Technical Devotion, Part Thirteen: Leaving

technical devotion, part thirteen: leaving

a/n: this is kind of filler. kind of. not my best work also but alas

content warnings: none :)

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“Hey Captain” Kan smiled at the small hologram Rex that sat atop the kitchen table.

“Hey Kan, Echo, sorry it took longer than expected to get back to you - there's been a lot of back and forth about what to do” Rex sighed, “We've decided to pull you out”

“What?” Echo frowned deeply.

“I'm sorry Echo, but we’ve decided that there’s not much more that you two can do on your own, and the information you've got for us already exceeds what we expected when we sent you, so you should return by the next rotation”

“Are you sure there's nothing more we can do? There was a lot of data in that base that we could still access” Kan tried to bargain.

“You've done enough, and we could use you back at base to be honest” Rex scratched his head, “There's a possibility of returning with an infiltration team later but that's a conversation for another time”

“Rex, please, there so much-”

“Echo look, if it were just up to me I'd let you stay, but it's not, so I need you back” Rex cut him off, “And I don't want you sneaking behind our backs and going back in anyway, alright?”

Echo sighed and nodded.

“Do I have your word?” Rex asked, knowing his brother all too well.

“You have my word” Echo said begrudgingly.

“Okay. I'll see you two back here soon”

The connection cut out and Rex's figure disappeared. Echo sighed deeply and sat down at the table, going to say something before Kan cut him off.

“I know” She said simply, giving him a sympathetic look, “I know, but you gave Rex your word”

Echo bit the inside of his cheek as he looked up at her, “Maybe I shouldn't have”

“Echo…” Kan sat down beside him, “We'll get another chance, we can push to come back”

Echo sighed again and looked away from Kan. He didn't want to admit it, but he was more reluctant to leave because of the living arrangements rather than the possible data they could obtain from the Empire's base. He enjoyed living with Kan, always being around her, and just her. He didn't want to go back to the base when everything felt as if it had changed so much here, that he had changed. He was so hyper-aware of his shifting priorities, but he couldn't stop it happening. He now cared more to keep Kan safe than to bring the Empire to its knees. Of course, he would like to do both, but he worried that one would eventually come at the expense of the other, and he couldn't bare the idea of either outcome.

“I have an idea” Kan said, interrupting his troubling thoughts. Echo looked up to see a glimmer of mischief in her eyes.

“Will I like this idea?” Echo replied, his eyebrow arched knowingly.

“Maybe not at first… but hopefully I can persuade you”

Echo turned to look at her properly, “What does that mean?”

“I figure that, since it's our last night here, we should do something” She said, a smile creeping across her face.

“Something…?” Echo questioned.

“Well, when I went out with Cap- Commander Levy, we went to this really charming bar, and I thought maybe we could get a drink there?” Kan said, trying her best to stay confident, but she felt shy in even asking to begin with.

“You want to get a drink with me?” Echo asked, a little surprised.

“Yeah why not? It could be fun” Kan shrugged, as if it was just a casual request.

“Um… I can't really drink in my droid mask” Echo stated.

“Well I really meant for you to go without your disguise” Kan subtly chewed on her lip.

“But I-”

“I just thought, you were worried about people asking about your scomp right? And you don't have it on show anymore so maybe you could come out as… you?”

The look in Kan's eyes was so hopeful that Echo couldn't deny her, “Okay, but- um, what about my… head stuff”

“It's fine, I'm sure people won't think about it” Kan smiled, “Besides, if anyone wants to comment on it I'll tell them to kriff off”

Echo chuckled, “I can't say no now I suppose”

“No, you can't” Kan smiled and jumped from her chair, “I'll go get ready, see you in like… 10 minutes”

Echo stifled a laugh as Kan scampered up the stairs and slammed the door to her room closed.

He breathed out a deep sigh and took off his headgear. Kan just asked me to get a drink? Together? He tried not to read into it. Kan is just friendly, we're friends, going out to a bar to have drinks. As friends. No big deal. Safe to say, he was making a big deal out of it anyway. He looked down at the floor, his head feeling heavy and weighed down by the sheer amount of things popping into his head. Kriffing relax.

Echo was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of Kan coming down the stairs, and his heart stopped when he looked up at her. She wore a simple red dress that hung around her figure perfectly and ended mid-calf, her boots disappearing above the hem, with a lacey white tie at the waist. She had applied some makeup that accentuated her eyes and cheekbones, and Echo found himself completely mesmerised.

“I got this dress the other day at the market, do you think it's appropriate for the bar?” She asked, doing a little spin.

Echo couldn't speak. His words caught in his throat until Kan looked up at him nervously.

“You look beautiful M'aira”

It was the only thing in his mind, the only thing he could conceivably say.

Kan blushed furiously, “Oh, thank you Echo”

Echo couldn't stop staring at her, and Kan became more and more nervous under his gaze. He looked completely awestruck, and it made her feel completely alive and frozen at the same time.

“Shall we go?” She peeped out, sounding more weak than she had wished.

Echo shook his head slightly and cleared his throat, “Yeah, let's”

The bar was dark, as it had been the first time Kan had gone there, and Echo was thankful for that. Despite Kan's assurances, he was still nervous about how people would react to the cerebral parts of his cybernetic makeup. He could imagine the things they were thinking as he walked in beside her, the most beautiful person he had ever seen. What's he doing with her.

Kan had no such thoughts in her head, she was only glad that this time she was at the bar with someone she truly liked, someone she felt comfortable with. She looked up to him beside her and noted his discomfort immediately.

“What's wrong?” She asked, gently placing her hand on his new cybernetic arm.

Echo looked down at her beside him and felt his worries ease just a little. “Nothing” He smiled weakly, “What can I get you to drink?”

Kan smiled at the stark difference between him and the last man who had accompanied her here. She didn't mean to compare them, but it just reminded her of why she liked Echo so much.

Kan shook her head, “I'll get the drinks, I was the one that suggested it after all”

“I don't think so” Echo smirked a bit, and placed his new hand on the small of her back, guiding her towards an empty booth near the back of the bar. She was startled initially, but relaxed into his touch and sat down in the booth once they arrived.

“Now-” He placed his hand on the table and leaned down to Kan's level as he spoke, “What can I get you?”

Kan was flustered by his behaviour but replied with her order, “I don't know, um, wine of some kind”

“Some kind?”

“Yeah whatever, I'm not fussy”

“Alright, coming right up” He replied, and walked over to the bar to order.

Kan's heart felt like it was trying to escape her chest, beating so fast she could feel it throughout her body. She couldn't say she didn't enjoy it when Echo was more physically comfortable with her, but it sure made her body act up. She couldn't help but think about what it might be like to kiss him, what her body would do then.

She shook her head to banish the thoughts as she heard someone call out her fake name. She looked up to see her previous date to the bar walking towards the booth.

“Commander” She greeted him with a gracious smile, one that Echo could see was forced when he came back to the table.

“Where is your husband tonight my dear” The Commander asked, almost challenging her it seemed.

“He-”

“I'm right here”

They both looked over his shoulder to see Echo returning with two drinks in hand. He placed Kan's in front of her and sat down beside her, placing his arm around her waist.

“It's a pleasure” Commander Levy spoke with a tight jaw, holding his hand out to Echo, “You're a lucky man”

“I know” Echo didn't shake his hand and instead held Kan tighter, pressing his temple into hers.

Echo and Commander Levy exchanged a few more words, but Kan tuned them out, albeit unintentionally. She couldn't focus at all. Echo was pressed up against her, and drawing small circles on her waist with the thumb of the cybernetic she had made for him. The intimacy of that notion wasn't lost on her, and she felt her body heating up as she dwelled on it more.

She didn't even realise Commander Levy was gone, or that Echo was talking to her, until he squeezed her tighter for a second. She met his eyes with hers and with how close they were, he could see how startled she looked.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, fine” She said, a little more breathless than she intended, “You didn't have to do that by the way”

“It's okay, I just wanted him to leave us alone really” Echo shrugged slightly.

Kan smiled up at him and then looked away as her cheeks heated up, realising that he was still holding her tightly. She edged a little closer to him as she took her wine glass in her hand, and they began talking as if it were normal for them to be in this position.

They talked as they usually did, swapping stories from their pasts, and as they drank more alcohol, their laughter turned to giggling and they became even more relaxed around each other, and Kan found herself leaning into Echo and resting her head on his shoulder when she felt tired.

“Shall we head back?” He asked quietly, speaking right into her ear, which made Kan hum contentedly and close her eyes.

“I like your voice” She replied, opening her eyes to look up at him.

Echo just chuckled, “You mean, you like clone voices?”

She shook her head, “No, yours is different. It's… warmer”

Echo had certainly never had anything about him described as ‘warm’, and he realised that even through his slightly altered state of mind.

“Alright, I think we should get home now” He said, gently taking Kan's head from his shoulder.

Kan huffed slightly, but followed him anyway as he left the booth anyway, a little unsteady before she found her footing. They exited the bar and into the cool air outside, winding their way back to their dwelling to spend their last night there.

Kan slipped her hand into Echo's as they walked, and he looked down at her suspiciously. They had had the same amount of drinks, but it was clear that Echo could handle his liquor a lot better than her, which made sense as she was at least half a foot shorter than him.

He decided to let himself indulge in the feel of her hand in his, even if it was for just for the walk home and never again.

Leaving the house the next morning proved more troublesome than Kan had realised, or was initially willing to let on. As they walked away, she turned and stood looking back at it.

“I'll miss it here, I'll miss-” She stopped herself, looking up at Echo who had stopped next to her, “You're a good housemate Echo, I'd live with you again”

Echo gave her a warm smile, “Well, we do sort of live together back at the base”

She laughed, “I suppose that's true”

“You know, if you actually slept in your bed like you're supposed to then you'd even sleep next to me every night” He smirked a little.

Kan's smile faltered, before it then got wider, “You're right” She said and moved away from the house, heading towards where they hid the ship, “That's as good a reason as any to sleep there”

Echo bit into his lip to stop himself saying anything more, for fear of misinterpretation, or overstepping any boundaries, but he was starting to think it was possible that it wasn't just him that harboured more-than-friendly feelings in his and Kan’s relationship.

“I thought I ordered no interruptions!”

Lessons of the Heart

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Reader / Crosshair x Teacher!Reader

Words: 15,738

Tags/Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, strangers to lovers, soft!Crosshair, grumpy/sunshine dynamic, awkward flirting, mutual pining, kissing/making out, Crosshair's anxiety, reader has long-ish hair, Tech mentioned briefly

Summary: Over a year after settling on Pabu, Crosshair is still struggling to adapt to life without having something to fight, or fight for. When Omega comes home with a bad grade, he jumps at the chance to help. He doesn't expect to become so invested, and he certainly doesn't expect to fall for his sister's teacher.

A/N: This one got away from me! But since the poll indicated I should keep this all one part, here you go. I really enjoyed writing Crosshair's perspective and all the little sibling moments in here.

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"Again, Omega? We talked about this."

Crosshair stops dead in his tracks, one boot in front of the other, and stares straight ahead. The basket of dirty clothes in his grip hangs limp by his side as he stands in the hallway, listening. Hunter and Omega are in the kitchen, the latter having just gotten back from another day at school, and they’re clearly talking about something serious.

Crosshair doesn't dare to breathe too loud in case he misses a single word. It's hard not to notice how Hunter's voice drops low when he speaks, trying not to be overheard by someone. By someone like Crosshair.

"I know, Hunter," she groans. He can hear the sound of something hit the counter, likely a datapad, and Omega shifts on her stool. "I tried on this one, I promise."

Hunter hums in a tone that makes it clear he's not quite believing her, and Crosshair's eyebrows raise a little in curiosity.

"Let me see, please."

"Hunter—"

"Omega."

She huffs, but a few seconds later, the datapad slides across the counter with a quiet squeak, and Omega's chair scrapes across the floor as she sits back down. "There. Happy?"

"Thank you." There's a pause, and Crosshair can only imagine the face Hunter is making as he reads whatever it is that Omega is showing him. His voice is stern, a tone that Crosshair's come to know as the sergeant, not the brother. "What is this?"

"I told you," she whines.

"She gave you a 50%?" Hunter's voice raises slightly. "Why would she do that?"

Omega scoffs. She's getting better at that. It almost sounds natural now.

Crosshair peeks around the corner, and sure enough, Hunter has the datapad in his hands, reading over whatever report the teacher sent back. Omega sits next to him, her shoulders slumped, arms crossed, and she's not meeting his gaze. Her backpack sits unzipped, its contents strewn out across the countertop and the stool where she usually sits.

He knows he shouldn't eavesdrop, but he's been doing it for so long he's not sure how to stop. And besides, the look on Hunter's face is one he doesn't like.

They'd all known going into this that Omega wasn't going to have an easy time at school. She excelled far beyond her peers in most subjects — math, history, science, languages, you name it — but there were two subjects where her intelligence failed her. Art, for one, because it was hard to grasp the concept of drawing something when she had no frame of reference. And then, of course, there was literature.

It's not her fault, and Hunter's well aware of it. Her education prior to the Batch adopting her was entirely focused on being the best lab assistant a Kaminoan could ever want. Over time, she soaked up anything they would teach her. Strategy, engineering, politics, even some basic medical training — Omega could do it all. But, as it turned out, there was a pretty big part of her education that she was severely lacking in, and it was starting to show.

Out of the three brothers, Crosshair was the only one who actually made a habit out of reading, though he'd never admit it to anyone. So he tried his best to teach Omega the concepts that her teacher was trying to instill in her, but sometimes it was difficult.

Literature was, by nature, subjective. It's always up for debate, and Crosshair found himself constantly questioning himself while helping Omega with her assignments. It usually ended with both of them frustrated, and Hunter or Wrecker stepping in to mediate the situation.

But still, Omega loved her classes, even if they were difficult. And Crosshair would never say it out loud, but he enjoyed spending time with her and helping her learn, even if it wasn't always the easiest.

It seemed, though, that her teacher didn't agree with his methods.

Hunter looks up from the datapad and places it on the counter. He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and reaches across to pat Omega's shoulder. "It's okay. We can work with this."

She shrugs him off and hops down from the stool, gathering her things and stuffing them into her bag. When she tries to reach for the datapad, Hunter snatches it up and holds it out of her reach.

"Give it to me, Hunter."

"No. We're going to talk about this, Omega."

"There's nothing to talk about," she mutters, trying again and failing to grab the datapad.

Crosshair takes that as his cue. He steps into the kitchen and drops the basket of laundry onto the ground by his feet, the force of the landing enough to get their attention.

"Oh, good," Hunter says, looking at Crosshair. "You're home."

"Yep." Crosshair pops the 'p' and folds his arms, leaning back against the wall. He meets Omega's eyes for a moment, and the look on her face is like a punch to the gut. She looks defeated, and it's not a look that suits her.

He hates seeing her upset, especially over something so trivial. It's a report, and not even a very important one. It's not like her grades in the other classes were suffering. She was passing every single one of them with flying colors. It's just this one assignment, this one class, this one teacher who seems hellbent on making her feel bad about herself.

Crosshair can feel the rage bubbling under the surface. How dare her teacher give her a score that low, and why? Because of his help? That was his job, and he was doing it.

"What's going on?" Crosshair asks. He's still staring at Omega, trying to get her to look up at him, to meet his gaze, but she's not taking the bait. She's got her arms folded, her shoulders tense, and her lower lip juts out as she pouts at Hunter.

"I told her we'd talk about it, and she doesn't want to." Hunter sets the datapad back down, sliding it across the counter.

Crosshair picks it up, glancing at the words on the screen before scrolling through the report. It's an analysis, one he's read a million times. He doesn't bother skimming it, because he already knows exactly what she wrote. It's a decent summary of the text, and her thoughts and opinions are written plainly and with an obvious understanding of what the author meant. It's not her fault her teacher wanted her to interpret the text the way a typical thirteen-year-old might, but that wasn't who Omega was.

He glances back up at Hunter. "And what is there to talk about?"

"Well, her teacher doesn't seem to agree with her analysis," Hunter says. He nods at the datapad in Crosshair's hand. "The comments."

Crosshair finds the section in question and reads over the notes. It's a lot of the same, just worded a bit differently, but one comment sticks out among the rest.

Please try to stick to the original meaning of the text, Omega. You did well explaining how your interpretation differed from the traditional meaning, but try to focus on the actual story. 

It's the most condescending, ridiculous thing Crosshair has ever read, and he has to keep himself from throwing the datapad at the wall. He has to remind himself that doing that would only make Omega feel worse, and he doesn't want to upset her.

Instead, he takes a deep breath and hands the datapad back to her.

"This is stupid," he says, and he can see Hunter's eye twitch at his choice of words. "I read the text. I know what it means, and you know what it means. What, are you supposed to go through the entire thing and find the most cliche, obvious way of reading it?"

"No," Omega mumbles.

"Right," he agrees. "So then why is she giving you a low grade for your own thoughts and opinions?"

Omega shrugs. She's frowning, staring down at the datapad like it personally offended her.

And Crosshair knows that feeling, intimately. It's the same way he'd stare at the training room floor whenever a drill sergeant would call him a failure. It grates on his nerves, and he's half-tempted to find the teacher's home address and tell her just how wrong she is.

"But I'm doing it wrong," Omega says, her voice small and defeated.

Hunter is glaring at him now, but Crosshair can't find it in him to care.

"No, you're not," Crosshair insists, and he takes a seat beside her at the counter. "You did your research. You did everything you were supposed to, and you wrote a report about what you think it meant. What's wrong with that?"

Omega shrugs again, and he can see her hands balling up into fists.

The sight alone is enough to set him on edge. His entire body feels like a coiled spring, his muscles tense and ready to go. He hates seeing her like this. She's a bright kid, always smiling and happy, and to see her so down on herself makes him feel ill, and the last thing he wants is for her to think she's failed somehow.

Crosshair doesn't know why the teacher doesn't understand that, doesn't appreciate how amazing it is that a girl her age is even capable of writing a paper like this. Maybe, somewhere deep down, the teacher does get it. Maybe she's just pushing her own agenda. It wouldn't surprise Crosshair in the slightest, and the more he thinks about it, the more annoyed he gets.

"Maybe I should comm her," Hunter says, interrupting his train of thought.

Crosshair snaps his head around, glaring daggers at his brother. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't comm her." He pushes himself away from the counter and stands. "I'll handle this."

Hunter stares at him, one eyebrow raised, clearly confused. "Handle it?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna talk to her."

"Cross," Hunter says, but he doesn't finish his sentence.

Crosshair doesn't stick around long enough to hear the end of it. He's already halfway out the door, pulling his jacket off the hook, and slamming the door shut behind him.

Crosshair is pissed.

He doesn't often get angry. Annoyed, frustrated, irritated, yes. All those are familiar. But angry? Angry is not something he deals with. He can't stand it, the way his chest feels like it's about to explode, the way his heart rate picks up and his stomach feels sick. Anger makes him feel out of control, and the last thing he wants is to lose the little self-control he does have.

But now?

Now, he's angry.

Omega doesn't deserve to be treated like this. She doesn't deserve the way her teacher is talking to her, telling her she's doing something wrong when she isn't. If anything, the teacher should be grateful that Omega is even bothering to read the texts in the first place, that she's putting in the effort to analyze the meanings behind them.

He's so caught up in his own thoughts, he barely realizes how far he's gone. It's only when he spots the school, the tall building looming in the distance, does he realize he's halfway across town, and the sun is starting to dip below the horizon.

He slows his pace, taking a moment to catch his breath, and glances around. He's only been here a few times, just long enough to drop Omega off at the start of the day or pick her up after. He's never actually been inside, never even met a single one of her teachers, and he has no idea where her classroom even is.

A sign points him towards the front entrance, and he follows it. There's a handful of other parents waiting around the main entrance, all of them talking and laughing and joking with one another. A few of them glance his way, watching him curiously as he approaches the doors.

He ignores them, slipping inside and letting the doors close behind him. The hallways are quiet, and the sound of his boots against the tile echoes throughout the empty halls. He's not entirely sure where he's going, but he figures it can't be that hard to find her classroom.

It isn't.

It takes him less than a minute to locate her name, next to a door decorated with bright colors and images of what he assumes are the characters from a few of the stories they've read. He doesn't stop to admire the decorations, though. He doesn't stop at all, really. He pushes the door open and walks right inside, his eyes scanning the room.

The rows of chairs and desks are empty, but the one near the holoboard at the front of the room is occupied. There's a human woman sitting there, head bowed over a desk as she writes, and Crosshair strides up to her without hesitation.

"I want to talk about the report you gave Omega," he says, his voice tight, barely able to contain his anger. The woman looks up, clearly startled, and blinks owlishly at him.

The anger coursing through his veins suddenly tempers as he locks eyes with you, and he finds himself at a loss for words.

You're not what he was expecting, not in the slightest. He'd expected someone older, a woman with graying hair and crow's feet, maybe, one who's lived enough years to become old and jaded. Not this. Not you.

Your eyes are wide and bright, and the expression on your face is nothing short of adorable. He's not sure where that word came from, thrust to the forefront of his consciousness with the force of a speeder, but he can't deny that it's accurate. Your hair is tied up in a messy bun, a few loose strands hanging over your face, and there's a small, pink stylus stuck behind your ear. Your lips are slightly parted, a pretty shade of pink that almost matches the color of the pen, and he watches as they slowly form into a small 'o' as you process what's going on.

And then, just as quickly, your expression changes.

The adorableness falls away, and you straighten your posture, your brows furrowing and your lips pulling into a tight line.

"You must be Crosshair."

He frowns. "How did you—"

"She talks about you." You nod, glancing him up and down, and Crosshair has to fight the urge to shrink under your scrutiny. His mouth feels dry, and the sudden change in tone catches him off-guard. He was expecting defensiveness, maybe a little bit of anger. Instead, you sound...

Well, he can't really place it.

Crosshair nods, and he can feel his cheeks heat up. It's probably because he's angry. It has nothing to do with the way you're looking at him, the way your eyes rake over him, or the way your lips are curled up ever so slightly in a hint of a smile.

You clear your throat and gesture to the seat in front of you. He settles in it, not because you told him to, but because it seems like the polite thing to do. And because he wants to sit down.

Once he's seated, you fold your hands and place them on the desk, giving him your full attention. "I'm glad you're here."

That throws him. "You are?"

"Of course," you say, and the smile on your face is nothing short of dazzling. "I've been hoping to meet you for a while now. Omega speaks so highly of you, and I have to say, I was looking forward to finally meeting the man who's been helping her with her assignments."

And then, you do something Crosshair wasn't expecting. You extend your hand, offering a handshake.

He looks down at your hand, your fingers spread out, palm facing up. Your nails are painted a bright shade of pink, and there's a small smear of what looks like ink near the tip of your index finger. He glances up at your face, and you're smiling at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling a bit as you do.

His stomach does a weird flip, and his chest suddenly feels a lot warmer. He doesn't know what it is about your smile, your eyes, your voice, but it's...nice.

You're nice.

He doesn't take your hand.

You pull it away, but the smile doesn't leave your face. You don't seem offended or hurt, and you're still looking at him with an expression that can only be described as genuine kindness.

Crosshair swallows the lump in his throat. It's getting harder to stay angry, but he does his best to cling to his resolve. 

"You graded her report wrong,” he hisses.

He expects you to get defensive, maybe even offended. After all, no one likes having their work challenged. But instead, you just sigh.

You look down at your desk, grabbing the stylus and twirling it between your fingers. The light reflects off the smooth surface, glinting off the tip of the tool, and the movement is almost hypnotic. He has to force himself to look away, to focus on your face.

For the first time since he barged into your classroom, he notices the tiredness in your eyes. It's subtle, and he doesn't think anyone else would notice, but the way your shoulders sag is a dead giveaway. You look exhausted, and Crosshair suddenly feels an odd pang of guilty for dropping in on you like this.

Your smile is tight when you look up at him again..

"I can explain my rationale, if you'd like," you say, and it's not a question. It's a statement.

He's not sure if he should be annoyed by that or not, but he nods regardless.

"Thank you." 

You reach for a datapad laying haphazardly across your desk and tap away for a moment, before you hold it out for him to take. His fingers brush yours as he accepts it, and the touch sends a tingle up his arm. He tries not to show it, though, and busies himself by looking over the file as you speak.

"I know Omega has been struggling in my class, and I've done everything I can to make sure she has the support she needs. But, unfortunately, there's not a lot I can do when the curriculum is so..."

You pause, and he raises an eyebrow. "So what?"

"Well, it's not exactly tailored for her," you finish, and the small laugh you let out is strained. You shrug, a gesture that's supposed to be nonchalant, but he can see the tension in your shoulders.

He hums, nodding along as you continue to talk.

"I don't usually get students like Omega, you know? Kids who've already seen the world and have lived through so much more than their peers. And that's great, I mean, it's awesome. She's a brilliant kid, and she has such a great sense of herself, but I'm not equipped to handle a student like her."

Crosshair stops scrolling, his thumb hovering over the screen. He looks up at you, and you're staring back, chewing on your bottom lip.

He swallows the lump in his throat and nods. "So, what does that mean?"

"It means..." You trail off, letting out a sigh and shaking your head. You look away, turning to stare out the window behind you. The sun is setting, and the last rays of the day are reflecting off the buildings in the distance, bathing the room in an orange glow.

He watches the way the light illuminates your face, highlighting the curves and lines. It's not the first time he's found himself admiring the way someone looks, but it's the first time it's left him feeling like his heart's about to burst out of his chest.

It's not until you turn back to face him, the light fading, does he realize he's been holding his breath.

"I'm sorry, what was I saying?" you ask, and he's not sure if it's the lighting or his imagination, but he swears there's a faint flush creeping up your neck and cheeks.

"You were talking about the report," he says, his voice a little softer than usual.

You blink. "Oh, right. Of course." You clear your throat, sitting up a little straighter, and Crosshair has to remind himself not to lean in. "I graded the report based on how she did against the curriculum."

"Which is stupid."

"Yeah, I know." You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and Crosshair tracks the movement. "But it's how it works, unfortunately. We have a certain set of standards we have to abide by, and unfortunately, Omega's interpretation of the story was outside those standards."

"So? Her analysis is solid, and you know it," he says.

"It is," you agree, and the corner of your mouth twitches up into a half-smile. Your eyes are soft and full of understanding, and Crosshair has to look away.

"Her argument was well-researched, and her points were valid," you say, and it's with an apologetic tone. "But she also failed to follow directions."

Crosshair blinks.

That's not right.

"What?"

"She was asked to write a report on her thoughts and opinions on a classic work, and her interpretation of the story was excellent, but..."

"But what?" He knows he's being defensive, and he's not sure why, but the thought of you grading her unfairly, giving her a low score because of something that was his fault, makes his blood boil.

He takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair, folding his arms and forcing himself to relax.

You don't seem bothered by his attitude, though. In fact, you just smile at him.

"Well, she did a wonderful job of explaining her interpretation, but she failed to stick to the author's original meaning," you explain. "And while I understand why she was interpreting the text the way she was, and I'm happy she's able to do that, she was asked to write a paper specifically about the author's intended meaning."

Crosshair doesn't respond. He stares at you, his lips pressed together, trying his hardest to stay calm.

He has to admit, it makes sense. You're just doing your job, and the fact that you're even taking the time to explain it to him is a testament to how hard you're trying. But that doesn't make the situation any easier, and the disappointment in Omega’s voice when she'd shown him her report earlier that day is still fresh in his mind.

"It doesn't change the fact that she's brilliant," you say, interrupting his train of thought.

He snaps his head up, staring at you, and the expression on your face is almost...tender. You're not just saying it to placate him, or to try and get him to leave. No, you mean it. He didn't realize just how much you cared about his sister, and he's taken aback by how sincere you are.

"Omega is an incredibly intelligent young woman, and I am in awe of her every day." You lean forward, your elbows resting on the desk. You're smiling, but there's a hint of sadness in your eyes, and the way you speak, the words that spill out of your mouth, are genuine. "I can't begin to imagine the things she's been through, and I know that's not an excuse for how difficult I've been, but I'm sorry. I really am."

The anger he'd been holding onto melts away, replaced by a strange mixture of pride and confusion. He's proud that you care so much about Omega, and confused by how much it seems to affect him. He'd expected you to be stubborn, maybe even rude. But this? This isn't anything like the image he'd conjured up in his mind.

It's...

Nice.

"So, what now?" he asks.

"Well," you start, and the smile on your face turns mischievous, "you're welcome to challenge my grade. You can go to the school board, or we can go to the principal's office. You could even submit a formal complaint, or—"

"No," he interrupts, and his cheeks flush when he realizes how fast the word came out. He clears his throat, trying to compose himself, and says, "I meant, what do we do? To help her?"

"Oh." You blink, clearly surprised.

He's not sure why. Does he come off as the type of person who would file a formal complaint over a grade?

Probably, actually.

"Right," you say, and you take a moment to collect your thoughts. "Well, there's not a lot we can do. This was her last chance to make up for her last test score, and I'm afraid she'll have to repeat the class next year."

"There has to be something you can do," he insists. The words fall out of his mouth before his brain catches up, and he's already cringing internally at how desperate he sounds.

"Look," you sigh. "You're not the first parent to come in here at the end of the semester and ask me to raise a grade. But, if I raised Omega's grade, then I would have to raise the grades of everyone else who turned in a similar report. And I can't do that."

"You can't be serious," he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"I am," you say, an edge to your voice. "It wouldn't be fair."

"Life's not fair."

"Yeah, no kidding." You huff a humorless laugh. Your lips purse, and he can tell you're holding back a glare. 

He knows he's pushing his luck, and he's starting to feel like an idiot, but he can't help himself.

"You can't honestly tell me that there's nothing we can do."

Your eyes flicker away from his, and your gaze drifts down to the datapad. He can see your mind working, can see the gears turning as you mull over your options. You chew on your lower lip, and Crosshair tries not to stare, but it's a struggle.

He's never met someone who could have him going from angry to intrigued in the span of a few minutes, and he's not sure why he's so fixated on you. Maybe it's the way you're not afraid to stand your ground against him, or maybe it's the fact that you seem genuinely concerned about his sister's wellbeing. Or maybe it's just the way you look, with your bright eyes and kind smile, and the way you're clearly trying your best to make a difference.

Whatever it is, it's working.

"There is one thing," you say, after what feels like an eternity.

"What?"

You take a deep breath, as if bracing yourself, and meet his eyes.

"I can't raise her grade, but I could offer her some extra credit, if she'd like. It's not a guarantee, and I'd have to see her improvement before I decided to give her the points, but it's an option."

"Yes." The word slips out before he can stop himself, and he mentally curses at his own eagerness.

You arch an eyebrow.

"She'd like that." He clears his throat and forces himself to sound casual, unbothered. "If you're willing."

"Of course." You smile at him, and the warmth that spreads through his chest is...weird. But not unpleasant.

He's not sure what he did to deserve that look, that smile, but he decides he doesn't hate it.

"I'll tell her," he says, and he gets to his feet.

You stand as well, and the height difference between the two of you is not lost on him. He has to look down to meet your eyes, and the way you have to tilt your head up makes him feel strangely amused.

He's used to looking down at people, and most of the time, it makes him feel superior. But right now, he just feels...

Well, he doesn't really know how to describe it.

"Thanks," he says, and the word sounds foreign on his tongue. It's not something he's used to saying, especially to a stranger. He's not even sure what he's thanking you for, exactly, but it feels appropriate.

"You're welcome," you say, a grin on your face that's almost too wide, too bright, too much. "Oh, one more thing."

He hums, and you take a step closer around the desk. You're a foot or so away from him, close enough that he can smell the perfume you use, the floral scent filling his senses. He swallows hard and tries to ignore the way his pulse is racing.

You're not making this easy for him.

"We had a chaperone drop out last minute for the end of the year field trip," you explain. "If you have the time, would you be interested in helping me out? We're going to the spaceport museum."

Crosshair has no interest in a bunch of kids running around a museum, and he's about to decline, but the look on your face stops him.

The pleading look in your eyes, the way your eyebrows are knitted together, the slight pout of your lips. He knows what you're doing, and he doesn't like it. He's not the kind of man who caves to pretty girls asking him for favors, and he's definitely not going to cave now.

He's stronger than this. He can resist the urge. He's a trained soldier, a skilled marksman, and he's not about to give in to the will of a cute teacher.

He's stronger than this.

"I'll do it," he hears himself say.

Fuck.

"Perfect." Your eyes light up, and your smile widens. You're practically beaming, and it's like looking directly at the sun. "I'll send you the details. Thank you, Crosshair. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah," he says, struggling to think of a clever response, but coming up empty. He doesn't have a chance to say anything else before you're practically shoving him out the door.

When he turns back to face you, he sees you wave, and then the door is shut, and you're gone.

The silence of the hallways is suddenly too much, and he has to force himself to take a deep breath.

He's in trouble.

The trip is a nightmare.

It's not your fault. If anything, you've gone above and beyond to keep the kids in line. Crosshair's watched you run after them, chasing them through the exhibit and reminding them that they're not allowed to touch things. And, for the most part, the kids are well-behaved. There are a handful of them that seem to have a problem listening, but you've got the rest under control.

He has to hand it to you. It's impressive, and a little endearing, how hard you're trying. He knows you're exhausted, can see it in the way your shoulders sag when the kids start talking over you, can see it in the way you sigh when one of them pushes their way past you.

But the kids are bored, and he can't blame them. It's a pretty lame field trip, and he doesn't really understand the point of bringing them here. What is a museum, anyway, if not a place to look at cool, old ships?

So far, all they've done is look at boring, historical texts, and listen to you drone on about the importance of space travel and the role its played in storytelling throughout the galaxy.

The whole thing is dull, and he doesn't have the patience for this. He wants to go home and do literally anything else, and if he has to listen to one more kid whine about being bored, he's going to scream.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

Really, he's not bored.

In fact, he's quite the opposite.

He's fascinated.

It's the way you speak, the passion and excitement in your voice. He finds himself watching the way your lips move, the way your eyes sparkle with amusement. It's the same sparkle they had the other night, when he'd confronted you in the classroom. It's the same one that's been haunting him for the past week, and it's the reason why he's stuck here, in a crowded museum, surrounded by dozens of prepubescent teenagers, all while his brothers are back at home, probably having fun without him.

And, as if things weren't already bad enough, you're wearing the cutest outfit he's ever seen. It's a dress, the kind that flows down to your ankles, and it's got tiny flowers all over it. Your hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, tied back with a pink ribbon, and it swishes back and forth as you walk.

Crosshair's not usually one for dresses, and he's definitely not a fan of the color pink. But on you? It works.

It's almost unfair, really.

No, it's extremely unfair.

He's spent the entire day stealing glances at you, trying his best not to be obvious, and Omega is catching onto him. She keeps smirking at him, her eyes narrowed, and he's pretty sure she's been teasing him. He'll get caught staring at you, and she'll elbow him in the ribs and wink at him.

It's annoying, and he hates it.

Not as much as he hates himself, though.

Because he knows better. He knows it's wrong, knows it's stupid, and yet, he can't seem to stop himself.

And the worst part is, you don't even seem to notice. You're so busy trying to keep the kids in check, to keep them from causing a scene, that you're not paying any attention to him. He's grateful for that, because he's not sure how he'd handle the embarrassment.

But, at the same time, he wishes you would look at him. Just once. Just a quick glance, a tiny smile, a small nod. Something.

He sighs.

It's been a long day, and he's tired.

He's standing near the entrance, keeping an eye on the group of students, Omega included. They're currently huddled around a holoexhibit, and he watches as you answer their questions and explain the significance of each ship. You have the patience of a saint, and he has no idea how you do it. The questions they're asking are ridiculous, and a few of them are just flat out wrong.

Crosshair's tempted to go over and tell them how stupid they are, to get them to give you a break, but he refrains. He's not supposed to be getting involved, after all. This is your job, and he's just here to make sure the kids stay safe.

But he's not about to let them cause a scene.

A flash of metal catches his attention, and he frowns. One of the kids, a Rodian, is standing on a platform, and his hand is hovering over a lever. Crosshair doesn't need to read the label to know what the kid is thinking. He's been watching this one eye this exact display all morning, and he's been waiting for him to finally get brave enough to try his luck.

The kid reaches out, and before he can touch the lever, Crosshair strides across the room. He grabs his wrist, his grip firm, and pulls his hand away. The Rodian squawks in surprise, and Crosshair glares down at him. He's not tall, not for a Rodian, and it's easy for Crosshair to loom over him.

"Don't touch that," he growls.

"I-I wasn't gonna," the kid stammers, and his eyes dart towards the exit. He looks ready to bolt, and Crosshair would find it funny if it weren't for the way the rest of the kids are staring at him.

"Bullshit."

"Language," you scold, and Crosshair turns his head to see you approaching him, an exasperated look on your face. You have your hands on your hips, and you look like you're ready to lecture him instead of the kid who was about to activate the simulator without permission.

He raises an eyebrow at you, challenging you.

"You shouldn't swear in front of children," you say, your tone matter-of-fact.

"Well, maybe they shouldn't touch shit that's not theirs," he retorts, and he shoots the kid a pointed look.

"Crosshair!"

You're glaring at him now, and he knows he should feel bad, but he doesn't. He can't. Your cheeks are flushed, and your brows are furrowed, and you're trying so hard to look stern and serious, but it's not working. He's not sure why, but seeing you angry is a lot more appealing than it should be.

It makes him want to push your buttons.

"If I catch you touching this again, I'll throw you out," he warns the kid, and he lets go of his wrist. "Got it?"

The kid nods, and then he's dashing back to the rest of the group, a look of fear on his face.

"What is wrong with you?" you demand, and Crosshair looks down at you, fighting the urge to smirk. You're still glaring at him, but the flush on your cheeks is a shade darker now, and he can't help but feel a little proud of himself.

"I'm just doing my job," he says, and the smirk he'd been fighting is making its way onto his face now.

Your eyes widen. "Your job is to make sure the kids are safe, not threaten them."

"I wasn't threatening him," he scoffs.

"Yes, you were."

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you—"

"Okay, fine, maybe I was. A little," he admits, and you shake your head, a huff escaping you. The glare falls away, and the look on your face is softer now, a little less annoyed, and a lot more amused.

"I had it handled," you tell him, and there's a hint of teasing in your tone now, too.

"Yeah, it looked like it."

"Crosshair," you warn, but the corners of your lips are twitching upwards, betraying the seriousness of your voice.

"What? I'm just trying to help," he says, and the shrug he gives is a little more smug than it should be.

Crosshair isn't trying to antagonize you, not really. He's just...testing the waters, he supposes. Seeing how far he can push you, seeing how much you can take before you crack, and he has to admit that you're holding up pretty well so far. Most people would've told him off, or stormed off by now, but not you.

No, you're still here.

You're standing in front of him, your arms folded across your chest, trying your very best not to smile at him.

You're enjoying this.

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut, and he has to force himself to breathe normally. He's not sure why that's such a revelation, but it is. You're enjoying his company, enjoying the back-and-forth, and it makes him feel lighter than air.

"Are you always this much of an ass?" you ask, and his eyes widen at the sudden vulgarity, but he recovers quickly. He likes it, actually. The bluntness, the honesty. It's refreshing, and a lot more than he expected from you.

Crosshair smirks. "Now who's swearing in front of children?"

"They're not paying attention."

"Oh, right, because the exhibit on the history of intergalactic trade is so exciting," he says, and you snort, shaking your head.

"Yeah, you're not wrong," you admit, and he chuckles.

"I know."

"Of course you do," you mutter sarcastically. But, the annoyance has faded, and there's a smile on your face as you turn to look at the kids, so Crosshair considers it a win.

You stand there, next to him, your arms folded, and you watch as the kids slowly make their way through the exhibit. They're talking among themselves, completely oblivious to the exchange between the two of you. It's a bit of a relief, because he's not sure what they would make of the fact that he's flirting with their teacher.

Is he flirting?

No, that's not right.

He's not flirting.

He's just being...friendly. He's just making conversation, and there's nothing wrong with that. It's not his fault that you're easy to talk to.

Omega is the only one looking in his direction, and he doesn't miss the grin on her face. He shoots her a look, a warning, and she winks at him. He glares, and she sticks her tongue out.

Great.

He's definitely going to hear about this later.

"You're not exactly what I was expecting," you say quietly. 

Crosshair looks back at you, his heart skipping a beat when he realizes just how close you are. You're standing next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and you're looking up at him, the same sparkle in your eyes as before. There’s a hint of a smile on your lips, and you seem...pleased.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he asks, and he's almost afraid to know the answer.

"A good thing, of course." You nudge him playfully with your elbow, and the touch sends a jolt of electricity up his arm. "I'm glad I was wrong."

"Yeah, me too."

You laugh at that, and he smiles, more than a little pleased with himself. It's an unexpected, but pleasant, reaction, and he finds himself wanting to make you laugh again.

"Anyway," you say, taking a step back. "Thanks for keeping the kids in line. I really appreciate it."

He shrugs. "It's nothing."

"No, really." You look up at him, your eyes bright, and you give him a sympathetic smile. "I know this isn't exactly what you signed up for."

"It's not so bad."

You raise an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

"I mean, it's boring as hell," he admits, and the way your nose scrunches up as you laugh is adorable. He clears his throat and tries to focus. "But it's not awful. The company's...bearable."

You tilt your head to the side, and your eyes narrow. "Thanks, I think."

"Don't mention it."

"So," you start, a slight hesitation in your voice, "does this mean you're not going to file a complaint against me?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Crosshair teases. The way your eyes widen is enough to make him chuckle. "But I guess I can let it slide. For now."

"For now," you repeat, and you let out a breath. You shake your head and look up at him, the ghost of a smile on your lips. "Well, I'll take it. Now, let's get back to the kids, shall we?"

"After you," he says, gesturing for you to lead the way.

He follows after you, and he tries his best not to stare at the sway of your hips as you walk. He fails, but only a little bit.

And, if he catches you glancing back at him every so often, well, he's not complaining.

Omega is practically bouncing on her heels as they make their way down the street, heading home from the school. She's talking a mile a minute, her eyes bright, and she's still somehow full of energy despite the long day they've had. Crosshair can't quite keep up with her, and he's having trouble focusing on her words. He has no idea how you manage to do this every day, and he feels a little bad for thinking that teaching is an easy job.

She's going on about the trip, how much fun she had, and she's not slowing down. Crosshair doesn't mind, though. He's content to listen to her, and he's not going to stop her from gushing about her day. He does the same thing for her he’s always done for Tech, humming and nodding in the right places, and he knows that it makes her feel good to talk.

Besides, he's too distracted by his own thoughts to focus on what she's saying.

He's spent the last hour replaying the events of the day in his mind, trying to make sense of everything. The way you'd looked at him, the way you'd laughed, the way you'd teased him. It's all a little overwhelming, and he's not sure how to process it.

Crosshair isn't the kind of person who gets all worked up over a pretty girl. He’s not even the kind of person who gets all worked up, period.

But something about you, the way you carry yourself, the way you smile, the way you look at him. It's different.

You're different.

He doesn't know what to do with that information, and he's not sure he likes it. For all he knows, you're just being nice, just trying to be polite so he doesn’t give you a hard time. It wouldn't be the first time someone's done that.

Crosshair has been told his whole life that he's difficult to deal with, and he's learned to live with that. He's used to people being afraid of him, and he's used to people not wanting to be around him. He used to take pride in the fact that people were scared of him, but lately, it's started to wear on him.

Maybe it's because of his brothers, the way they've started to change, the way they've become softer. Or maybe it's because of Omega, the way she looks up to him, the way she trusts him, the way she thinks he's capable of great things.

Either way, he can't deny that he's a little lonely.

And maybe a little curious.

"Crosshair," Omega says, and the sharpness in her voice catches his attention. She's stopped walking, and she's giving him a look, her eyes narrowed. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?" He blinks, and then he frowns. "Yeah, of course."

"Then, what did I just say?" she challenges, her hands on her hips, her head tilted up.

He pauses, and then sighs. "No, not really."

"I knew it!" she exclaims, throwing her hands up. "You were totally spacing out."

"I was not."

"Yes, you were," she argues, and she crosses her arms over her chest. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"Really? Because you look like you're thinking about something."

"Nope," he lies. Crosshair turns his head away from her, pretending to look at something else. There's a few vendors pulling in their stands in front of them, closing up for the evening, and he watches them, trying to avoid Omega's gaze. The florist is packing up his display, and the bright, colorful flowers draw his attention. He tries to ignore the fact that they remind him of your dress.

"Are you sure? You seem...weird."

"I'm fine."

"Are you thinking about the field trip?" she asks, and he can hear the smugness in her voice. "About Miss—"

"Omega." He snaps his head back towards her, his eyes wide, and he gives her a warning look.

"What?" she says, feigning innocence, and he groans.

"Just drop it," he mutters, and he turns to keep walking.

"I can't," she says, following after him. She has to jog slightly to keep up with his hurried pace, but it does nothing to deter her. "You like her."

"Of course I like her. She’s nice,” he replies. His tone comes out more defensive than casual, and he grimaces internally.

"No, you really like her."

Crosshair opens his mouth, ready to defend himself. There's no way that's true. It's impossible. He barely knows you, and you're just his sister's teacher. 

Just a pretty, sweet, kind teacher who cares about her students and isn't afraid to push the boundaries to help them learn. Who didn't back down when he challenged her, and didn't hesitate to stand her ground when he was being an ass. 

Who smiles at him and looks at him like he's worth something, like he's important, like he matters. Who laughs at his pathetic attempts at humor and makes him feel like he's not a complete waste of space, like maybe there's something worthwhile inside of him after all. Like maybe, just maybe, there's a chance for him.

Shit.

He shakes his head. "You're crazy."

"Am not," she insists, and she skips in front of him, forcing him to stop. "I won't tell anyone."

"Omega—"

"You know, she's single," she continues with a knowing, smug grin, and it reminds him so much of Hunter that he has to take a deep breath and count to ten before he can speak again. And even then, he's still annoyed.

"How the hell do you know that?" he demands, his eyebrows raised.

"I overheard her talking to the other teachers during lunch," she explains, and the smugness fades, replaced by a sheepish smile.

"You shouldn't eavesdrop," he chastises, though he's a little too preoccupied with the new information to put much force behind the words.

"I didn't mean to," she says with a shrug. "I was looking for her, and I found her, and they were talking about her, so..."

"So, what else did you hear?" he asks, trying his best to sound disinterested.

"Nothing."

"Omega," he warns.

"I didn't hear anything!" she insists, her eyes wide. After a beat, a smirk forms on her face, and her eyes narrow. "Why? Did you want to know something else?"

"No," he snaps, a little too quickly. "Just forget it."

"But—"

"It's not important," he says, cutting her off as he steps around her and continues walking. He hears her groan in frustration, and he smirks to himself. Serves her right.

"Wait!" She hurries after him, her hands gripping the strap of her bag tightly as she catches up. She's practically running now, trying her best to match his long strides, and her breathing is a little heavier than normal. "Crosshair, slow down."

"No."

She huffs. "I'm just saying—"

"Omega, enough."

"I think she likes you, too."

Crosshair stops walking abruptly, and Omega almost collides with him. He turns his head towards her, his eyebrows raised, and she takes a step back.

"What makes you say that?" he asks. He knows he's being foolish, letting her bait him like this, but he can't help himself. The hopeful note in her voice is hard to ignore, and he's suddenly feeling a lot more optimistic than he should.

"Because she kept looking at you," she explains.

"No, she didn't."

"Yes, she did," she argues. "She was looking at you, like, the entire time. The whole trip. I'm surprised you didn't notice."

"You're exaggerating," he mutters, trying to hide the flush in his cheeks.

"I'm not," she says, shaking her head. "I was keeping track."

"You know, if you paid half as much attention to your schoolwork as you do to gossiping, neither of us would be in this mess," he retorts.

"Hey! That's not true," Omega pouts. "I learned everything I need to know about intergalactic trade from Tech. I'm good."

Crosshair can't help but smile at that, and Omega grins back at him. They start walking again, this time a little slower, and she reaches for his hand, grabbing hold of his fingers.

"But you like her, right?" she asks, tilting her head up at him.

"She's...nice," he admits, and the look on her face tells him that's not enough. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck with his prosthetic hand. "I don't know. Maybe."

"You should ask her out."

"Yeah, I don't think that's a good idea," he mutters, shaking his head.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I barely know her."

"So? Just get to know her," Omega says, and he sighs.

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Because..." Crosshair hesitates, trying to think of a reason. The truth is, he's never really had to deal with this kind of situation. He's not exactly the best when it comes to social interactions, and his history with romantic relationships is...limited. It's not something he's ever bothered to think about, but now that it's staring him in the face, he feels woefully unprepared.

"What if she says no?"

"Well, what if she says yes?"

Crosshair doesn't respond. If he's being honest, he hadn't even considered the possibility of you saying yes. He'd been so focused on the negative outcome, the embarrassment, the awkwardness, that he'd completely forgotten about the other side of the equation. What if you did say yes? What would he do then? Would he be happy? Relieved? Or would he be even more nervous than before?

"I don't know," he finally admits.

"You should ask her," Omega urges. "At least, think about it."

"Maybe," he says, and she frowns, clearly not satisfied with the answer. He sighs, and then gives her hand a squeeze. "I'll think about it."

"Okay," she grumbles, and the two of them continue walking, falling into a comfortable silence. It's quiet between them all the way to the front door, and he's almost home free, his hand hovering over the sensor pad, when Omega speaks up.

"I'm just saying," she starts, and he groans, "you should go for it."

"I'm done having this conversation," he grumbles as he tugs her inside, slamming the door behind him. He can hear voices coming from the kitchen, and he freezes, holding fast to her wrist.

"You have to promise not to tell them."

"Okay, okay, I promise," she says, rolling her eyes, and she tugs her arm away.

"No, not okay," he says. "If you tell them, I'll kill you."

"Okay, fine," she huffs, and he narrows his eyes at her.

"I'm serious," he says, his tone low, threatening. It doesn't work on Omega, not anymore, and she just looks up at him, unbothered.

"So am I."

"Fine." Crosshair sighs, deflating, and then, before he can stop himself, the words are spilling out. "So, what do I do?"

Omega's face lights up, a grin so wide it nearly splits her face in two, and he regrets the question almost instantly. "I'll help you."

"What?"

"I'll help you," she repeats.

"You're kidding," he deadpans.

"No," she says, shaking her head. "I have a great idea. Trust me."

"Omega—"

"I promise, you won't regret it," she says, and then, she's gone, dashing off towards the kitchen where Hunter and Wrecker are arguing about dinner.

Crosshair watches her go, and then, with a groan, he drags his hand over his face.

What has he gotten himself into?

The next few weeks are a blur. Omega's been keeping him busy, asking him to help her with homework, walking her to and from school, and the whole time, he's wondering when she's going to bring up her big plan.

She managed to get a score high enough on her extra credit in your class to pull her grade up, and Hunter nearly fell over when he found out. You'd sent a letter home with her, letting them know how impressed you were, and both Hunter and Wrecker wouldn't shut up about it for days. Omega's been bragging about it, too, and Crosshair's heard her go on about how smart and amazing and brilliant and perfect you are, over and over again.

She hasn't brought up her big plan again, though, and Crosshair's grateful. She has, however, started dropping hints here and there, meddling in ways that she shouldn't, and it's getting old, fast. 

He's already had to stop her from inviting you over for dinner, twice, and he's not sure how much longer he can keep her from blowing his cover. More than once, Omega's forgotten her datapad at home, and he's had to drop everything to run it to the school. It's a pain in the ass, but at least it gives him an excuse to see you.

And he sees you, a lot more than he should.

He tries not to get too excited about it, tries not to think too hard about what it means, but it's impossible. Omega's made it her mission to get the two of you alone together, and he can't help but feel a bit like a pawn in her scheme, one that she refuses to share with him. Not that it matters, because it's working.

You're talking to him.

In fact, the two of you have spent so much time together over the last few weeks, that it's almost weird when he doesn't see you. Every morning, when he drops Omega off at school, he makes sure to walk her inside. You're always there, and he doesn't miss the way you look up when the door opens or the way you smile when you see him. You're usually sitting at your desk, grading papers, or helping a student, and he's quick to leave before anyone notices how long he's standing there. 

But every once in a while, when he's lucky, you're standing at the front of the room, and the two of you are able to exchange a few words. It's nothing too special, and it's not as if you're exchanging life stories or anything, but it's enough. It's more than he could've hoped for, and it's better than the alternative, which is absolutely nothing. He even brought you coffee one day, after you'd stayed late to work on a project with Omega, and you'd blushed.

Blushed.

For him.

Crosshair would be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed that. It's nice, having someone to talk to, and it's nice, being able to see you smile. Even if it's only for a minute or two, and even if his brothers are constantly giving him shit for it.

He's not an idiot. He knows they're all watching him, waiting to see how this plays out, and he's doing his best not to give them any ammunition. Omega's already told him, several times, that they're rooting for him, and he's not sure how to feel about that. The last thing he needs is everyone butting into his business, and he's hoping that Omega will keep her word and keep her mouth shut.

He's not going to say anything, not until he's absolutely sure. And, even then, he'll probably wait. The only problem is, he's almost certain he's run out of time.

Crosshair has been keeping a mental countdown, counting down the days until Omega's finished with school, and it's come up a lot sooner than he'd expected. The semester is over, and it's officially summer vacation, which means you're no longer Omega's teacher. And with that, comes an end to whatever small shred of hope he'd had that something might happen, that whatever plan Omega had in mind would work, and the two of you would end up together.

Which is fine.

Really, it's fine.

He's not hurt. He's not disappointed. He's not anything. He doesn't care, not one bit, and he definitely isn't sulking, not at all, because that would be ridiculous.

It's just a crush. A silly, stupid, fleeting thing, and it's not worth getting upset about. It's not like anything would've happened between the two of you. You're way out of his league, and he knows that.

But still.

He can't deny that he misses the daily interaction, the brief exchanges, the occasional smiles. He can't deny that he'd enjoyed it, and now that it's over, he feels a little lost. 

He jumped at the chance to go to the summer festival with everyone, partly because he didn't want to be home alone, and partly because he was hoping to run into you there. Which is stupid, and foolish, and pathetic, but he can't help himself. He'd overheard you telling Omega that you'd be there, and it's the closest thing he has to a sign, and so, he's taking it.

Besides, Hunter practically ordered him to go, so it's not like he had a choice.

So, here he is, standing off to the side, watching the rest of the family enjoying themselves. It's still early, and the real festivities won't begin until the sun starts to set, but everyone is already in a good mood. He tries his best not to ruin it with his attitude, but he knows he's doing a shitty job of it, and it doesn't help that they're teasing him relentlessly.

"You're moping."

Crosshair sighs and rolls his eyes as Hunter bumps him with his elbow. He's been standing next to him, staring out into the crowd, and he doesn't turn his head when his brother speaks.

"No, I'm not," he replies.

"Yes, you are," Hunter says. He takes a sip of his drink, and then, nudges him again. "Is this about your girlfriend?"

"Shut up," Crosshair grumbles, and he elbows him back, a little harder than necessary. Some of Hunter’s drink spills, and he feels a small flash of satisfaction.

"Ow."

"Leave me alone," he says, and Hunter snorts.

"No, I'm not gonna do that," Hunter says, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's too easy."

Crosshair groans, and turns his head away, trying his best to ignore him. It doesn't work.

"Come on, just ask her out," Hunter urges, and Crosshair glares at him.

He can hear Wrecker snickering behind him, and when he turns around, the look on his face tells him everything he needs to know. He must've been listening in the whole time.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Hunter continues.

"I could make an idiot out of myself," Crosshair replies.

"So? You already do that every day," Wrecker jokes, and he winces when Hunter smacks him.

"Not helping," Hunter mutters, and Wrecker just shrugs.

"Look," Hunter says, turning back towards him, "if she says no, at least you'll know, and you can stop worrying about it."

Crosshair doesn't respond, too caught up in the sight of you weaving your way through the crowd. You're wearing a sundress, a cute little thing that ends just above your knees, and a flower crown sitting atop of your head, and he can't take his eyes off of you. 

You're walking with Omega's art teacher, a Rutian Twi’Lek laden with jewelry, talking and gesturing animatedly. She has her hands full with decorations for the festival, and you're trying to help, but she keeps shooing you away. He can see the pout on your face, and he can't help but smile, just a little, and then you turn your head and catch Crosshair staring.

He doesn't have time to look away.

He doesn't even have time to try.

Instead, he watches, frozen, as your eyes lock with his. Your face lights up, a bright smile on your lips, and you wave at him. He feels his hand lift in acknowledgement despite himself, and he can't stop the way his lips quirk up into a half-smile. 

He can see Omega trailing after the two of you, a stack of posters in her hands, and she's saying something, but he can't hear her. The only thing he can hear is his heart pounding in his ears, and the only thing he can see is you, your face flushed, and a look in your eyes that's far too soft for him to know what to do with.

"Wow," Hunter says, breaking the spell, and he blinks, the image of you in front of him fading, replaced by his brother's annoying smirk.

"What?"

"I knew you liked her, but I didn't know it was this bad," Hunter says.

"Oh, come on," Wrecker teases, a big grin spreading across his face. "He's in love."

Crosshair can't stop the growl of frustration that leaves him, and the sound makes his brothers laugh. He wants to shove them, or punch them, or something, but he doesn't have the chance.

You’re walking over.

You're heading in their direction, and Crosshair panics, unsure of what to do. He doesn't know how to be anything other than aloof and rude, and he's afraid he'll say something stupid and embarrass himself. He doesn't want to mess this up, and he's terrified he'll ruin everything if he says the wrong thing.

He looks at Hunter, a desperate plea in his eyes, but his brother is no help. Instead, he just smirks and shrugs, nudging Wrecker.

"We should go check on Omega," he says, his tone is casual. "C'mon, Wrecker."

Wrecker doesn't argue, and he doesn't hesitate, following Hunter without a word. Before he can blink, they're gone, and it's just the two of you. Crosshair's not sure if it's better or worse.

"Hi," you say, your voice soft as you come to a stop in front of him.

Your cheeks are flushed, and you're fidgeting. He finds it endearing, and the fact that you're just as flustered as he is makes him feel a little bit better.

"Hey," he says, his voice coming out a bit raspier than he'd intended. He clears his throat, and then nods towards your companion. "Are you having fun?"

You tilt your head and look back over your shoulder, and Crosshair doesn't miss the slight roll of your eyes.

"Yeah, I'm having a blast," you deadpan, and he can't help but laugh. He's grown used to your particular brand of sarcasm over the past few weeks, the kind that only seems to come out when he's around, and he's come to enjoy the way it sounds when it's aimed at someone else.

"Don't worry," he says, "we can be miserable together."

"Well, that's not very festive," you reply, and there's a teasing edge to your voice. "What did the festival ever do to you?"

"Nothing, I just don't like people."

"Fair enough," you say with a laugh. "So, what brings you here?"

"Omega."

"Ah." You nod, and a soft smile forms on your face. "Of course. She told me you'll be helping us out later. Thanks, by the way."

Crosshair raises an eyebrow.

This is news to him.

"Uh, yeah," he says slowly, his eyes narrowing. "What did she say, exactly?"

"She said you'd be helping with the games." You tilt your head and look up at him, confusion in your eyes. "Is that...not true?"

He stares back at you, unsure of what to say. He's never agreed to anything like that, and the idea of working with children is...unappealing, to say the least. He can't imagine why Omega would've said that.

The realization hits him, and his eyes widen.

That little brat.

She set him up.

She's been planning this, and he was too distracted with moping to realize it. He'd let her walk all over him, and now, he's going to have to play along. Because there's no way in hell he's going to tell you the truth, not now, not when you're looking up at him, expectant and hopeful.

"Yeah, no," he lies, shaking his head. "She's right. I'll be there."

"Great," you say, and he's pretty sure you actually mean it. "I'm running the scavenger hunt. And, if you wanted, I could use a partner."

Crosshair blinks, brain stuttering over the word partner, and he must look like an idiot, because you start to backtrack.

"But, you probably have better things to do. I'm sure there's someone else who would love to help. I just thought—"

"No, no, I'll help," he interrupts, and you stop, giving him a grateful look.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Your smile is so bright, so radiant, that it makes his heart ache. He can't remember the last time someone was this happy to spend time with him. He's not used to feeling wanted, and the knowledge that you enjoy his company fills him with a sense of pride he's not quite prepared for.

"But," he starts, his eyebrows raised, "you owe me."

"I know, I know," you say with a laugh. "Anything you want."

"I'm serious," he insists, though the smirk on his face betrays his words. "I'm doing this under duress. I'm being held against my will."

"I'll make it worth your while," you tease, and the way your eyes flash, the playful look in them, is almost enough to make him forget how to breathe. He tries not to focus on it, tries not to dwell on the way his mind immediately goes to some very interesting places, but it's a losing battle. He's sure his cheeks are red, and the knowing look in your eyes doesn't help.

"Uh," he says, his voice strangled, and he has to clear his throat again before he can continue. "Good.”

"Good," you repeat, and the smile on your face turns shy. You take a step back, and then another, and the look in your eyes is...different, softer, and a little more vulnerable. It makes his stomach twist. "Well, I should probably go. But, I'll see you later, right?"

He nods, and you grin. You wave goodbye and walk away, and Crosshair watches you go, a small smile on his face. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes at himself, but he can't stop smiling. It's a dumb thing to be happy about, but it's nice, knowing that you're looking forward to seeing him. And the way you'd looked at him, the hopeful look in your eyes, the shyness, the blush on your cheeks. He can't stop thinking about it.

It's just a crush, and it'll go away eventually. It's just a silly little thing, and it'll fade away. You'll be gone, and he'll be left behind, and everything will go back to normal. He'll get over it.

But, as he stands there, watching you laugh and smile and talk to the others, the sight of you making him feel things that he's not quite ready to admit, he can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he doesn't want it to.

By the time the sun sets, the courtyard is packed. The vendors have all set up their stalls, the games have begun, and the music is blaring. Crosshair stays close to Wrecker, using his bulk to help him avoid the crowds, and does his best to ignore the children running around. Wrecker's not much help. He keeps wandering off, getting distracted by the food or the games, and Crosshair is left to wander around alone.

It's not all bad, though.

He's able to keep an eye on Omega, and that's enough to keep him occupied. He knows she can take care of herself, but it's hard for him to relax when she's not within eyesight. And, every once in a while, you catch his eye. You're busy, running from place to place, and he knows that you don't have time to stop and chat, but the small, shy smiles that you give him are enough to put him at ease.

It's a nice distraction, and it helps him stay focused, which is a good thing. Because, before he knows it, it's time for the scavenger hunt. Omega drags him over to the table where you’re waiting, and he can't help but smile at the enthusiasm in your voice.

"I'm so glad you could make it," you say, and the look in your eyes tells him that you really mean it.

At his side, Omega looks far too proud of herself. Crosshair narrows his eyes at her, and she gives him a toothy grin in return.

"Me too," he mutters, and you laugh.

"Come on," you say, grabbing a basket from the table. "Let's get started."

Crosshair nods, and he stands back as you hand out datapads and explain rules to the crowd that’s formed around them. He's not paying attention. He's watching you, listening to your voice, enjoying the way you look in the light of Pabu’s setting sun, and it's a nice moment. That is, until Omega elbows him, and he startles.

"What?"

“She likes you," she whispers conspiratorially, her hand cupped over her mouth.

"Shut up," he hisses.

Omega giggles, and he glares at her, but it does nothing to wipe the smirk from her face.

"I'm not talking to you," he growls.

"Yeah, you are," she says, her voice laced with amusement. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Before he can say anything, you announce that the scavenger hunt has started, and the kids are off. Omega joins the crowd, and soon, she's lost among the swarm of children running past them. Crosshair watches her go, his eyebrows furrowed, and then, he turns his attention to you.

You're smiling, waving at the kids, and he can't take his eyes off of you. This was a bad idea. He should've said no. He should've done something, anything, but instead, he'd let himself get roped into helping, and now, he's standing here, watching you, wishing he had the courage to just say something, and it's driving him crazy.

"Thanks again for helping," you say, turning towards him, and he startles, caught off guard.

"Uh, yeah, no problem," he replies. "I was going to be here anyway."

"Yeah, Omega mentioned that."

Crosshair nods, and the two of you settle into an awkward silence. He shifts on his feet, his hands shoved in his pockets, and he stares out into the crowd. You're quiet beside him, and the longer the silence lasts, the more uncomfortable he becomes.

It's not like you to be so quiet. Usually, you're chatting his ear off, asking him questions, trying to get him to open up, and the fact that you haven't said a word is concerning. You’re shuffling datapads and small trinkets around as if looking for something to keep yourself busy, and he's starting to wonder if he's done something wrong.

He's trying not to worry about it, but the longer the silence stretches, the more his mind races. He knows he's overthinking, and the more he thinks about it, the more anxious he becomes.

It's just a crush, he reminds himself.

He doesn't want anything from you. He doesn't need anything from you. He doesn't expect anything from you. But, as he stands there, trying not to dwell on the way his heart is racing, the way his stomach is twisting, the way his breath catches in his throat, he can't help but feel like a bit of an idiot.

He can't help but wonder if you've figured him out. 

Maybe you know, and that's why you're acting so strange. Maybe you can tell, and you're waiting for him to make the first move. Maybe you're nervous, or maybe, you just don't want him to say anything, because you don't feel the same way, and that's why you're keeping your distance. He knows that's a long shot, but it doesn't stop his brain from fixating on the thought. He can't help but think about how much worse it'll be if you do know.

So, he stands there, and the silence stretches on, tension thick in the air as you cast glances at each other. 

It's not until a couple of kids come up and ask for help with the next clue that the tension breaks.

The two of them are young, maybe eight or nine, and they're struggling. They're a cute pair, brother and sister, and they remind him a lot of his siblings. Their parents are nowhere in sight, and they're arguing, bickering, and it’s not until you crouch down to speak to them, taking the datapad from the boy's hands, that they calm down. You explain the next clue to them, and Crosshair watches as the siblings nod, their faces lighting up with understanding.

He wants to keep watching you, but a second pair of kids approach, and then a third. He can see you’re starting to get overwhelmed, and so he picks up a datapad and gets to work.

Soon, the two of you have a rhythm. You help the younger kids while he helps the older ones, and the system seems to work. He finds himself enjoying the task, and he doesn't even realize that an hour has passed until the scavenger hunt is over and the sun has nearly set. The two of you gather up the datapads, and the kids line up in front of the table, ready to receive their prize.

They're all so excited, and they're smiling and laughing and cheering, and it's a nice sight. Crosshair has never been the biggest fan of children, but these ones aren’t so bad.

He doesn't even realize that he's smiling until Omega runs back over to him, her arms outstretched, and she flings herself at him. She grabs hold of his waist, and she squeezes him tight.

"Thanks for helping," she says, her voice muffled, and he has to swallow past the lump in his throat.

"No problem," he replies as she lets go. She's still grinning at him, her eyes bright, and he can't help but reach out and ruffle her hair. "How'd you do?"

"I won," she boasts and slaps his hand away, and he rolls his eyes, unable to keep from smirking.

"Of course you did."

"It wasn't easy," Omega continues, her eyebrows raising as she speaks slowly. "But I had a great partner."

Crosshair sighs, and he gives her a knowing look, which she ignores.

“Don’t screw this up,” she whispers, and then, before he can say anything, she turns on her heel and heads back towards the others.

You're still sitting at the table, and he takes a moment to compose himself before heading over. You're organizing the datapads, sorting them into a bag, and he takes a seat next to you.

"Thanks for the help," you say, and he nods, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Not a problem."

"You did a good job," you tell him. He ducks his head, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as you continue, “You’re good with them.”

"Well, you're welcome," he says, his voice low. "I have a lot of practice dealing with little brats."

You laugh, and the sound makes his heart swell. You continue sorting the datapads, and he watches you work, his eyes trailing over your features. It's not until you clear your throat that he realizes how long he's been staring.

"So, um," he begins, trying not to think too hard about the fact that he's been caught. "I was thinking..."

You look up. "Yeah?"

"You owe me."

"Huh?"

"You said anything I want," he explains, and the confusion on your face clears.

"Right," you reply, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. You stop what you’re doing and turn to face him fully. "And what would that be?"

"Dinner.”

"Dinner?" you repeat, your eyebrows raised, and he nods.

"With me."

"Are you asking me on a date, Crosshair?"

"Yeah," he says, and his heart leaps into his throat when your eyes light up. "I'm asking you on a date."

"Oh," you say, a soft smile on your lips, and he can't help but mirror it. "Well, how could I say no?"

"Great," he replies, and then, after a pause, he asks, "is that a yes?"

"Yes, of course it's a yes,” you chuckle. You shake your head, and then, a teasing smile forms on your face. "Did you think I was gonna say no?"

"Uh," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was prepared for it."

You snort, and the laughter that follows is almost enough to distract him from the way his cheeks are burning. Almost. He looks away, embarrassed, but he can't help but smile.

"Sorry," you say, stifling your laughter, and he shrugs.

"It's fine."

"No, no, I'm not laughing at you," you say. You're biting your lip, trying to stop yourself from smiling, and his eyes narrow. "It's just..."

"What?"

"This whole time," you begin, and you have to bite back another laugh. "I've been trying to figure out how to ask you out."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah," you admit, and the shy smile on your face is almost too much for him to handle. He can't believe what he's hearing. "I've been waiting for an excuse to spend some time alone with you, but I couldn't think of anything. So, when Omega mentioned you'd be helping out, I figured it would be my chance."

Crosshair shakes his head, trying to process the words. It's a lot to take in. You've been trying to ask him out? All this time, he's been wondering, worrying, and it was all for nothing? You've wanted this, too?

"Oh," is all he can manage, and it's enough to make you laugh again.

"Yeah."

He doesn't know what to say, so he stays silent. You shift next to him, and you place your hand on his arm, the contact sending sparks through his skin. Your touch is light, but it makes his breath catch, and he doesn't miss the way you smile at his reaction.

“So, do you want to watch the fireworks with me?” you ask, your voice soft.

"Yeah, sure," he says. He's trying not to let his excitement show, but judging by the grin on your face, he's not doing a very good job of it.

"Good."

He's expecting you to let go of his arm, but instead, you slide your hand down, and your fingers brush against his, a subtle gesture that makes his heart race. He turns his hand palm up, and you slide yours into it, your touch warm and gentle. His fingers curl around yours, and the smile on your face makes him feel bold.

Crosshair stands, pulling you up with him, and the two of you walk to the edge of the courtyard, hand in hand. It’s quiet now, save for the music playing over the speakers and the soft murmur of conversation, and the sky is dark. There are only a few people left nearby, mostly parents picking up their children, and no one pays the two of you any mind. You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back, a smile forming on his face.

You lead him down a set of steps, and the two of you make your way towards a spot overlooking the bay. The breeze is cool, and the smell of salt fills the air. Without the lanterns and torches and strings of lights, it's dark, and he can just barely see your face, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon.

There’s a tree behind you, and it offers a bit of privacy, and the two of you settle against it, sitting on the grass. He can see the bay spread out in front of them, and the waves crashing on the beach, a steady rhythm that helps slow his racing heartbeat. 

He's still holding your hand, and he gives it another squeeze. You lean against him, resting your head on his shoulder, and the two of you watch as the fireworks begin. The explosions are loud, and bright, and colorful, and you point out the best ones, and the ones that remind you of him, and the ones that make you laugh. And, as the fireworks continue, as the colors fill the sky, you lean closer, and he pulls you into his arms.

He's not sure how long it lasts, but the longer the fireworks go on, the closer you get, and the more content he becomes. You're sitting between his legs, leaning back against his chest, and his arms are wrapped around you, holding you close.

You turn your head, the movement catching his eye. Your eyes meet his, and the two of you stare at each other, and the fireworks fade away, forgotten.

"Hey," he whispers, and the corner of your mouth twitches.

"Hey."

"This is nice," he says, his voice low.

"Yeah, it is."

You shift, turning towards him, and your face is so close that he can feel your breath on his lips. He knows he should wait, should give you a chance to change your mind, should give himself a chance to talk himself out of it, but he can't. 

"I—"

"Yes," you interrupt, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and he has to laugh.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say," he teases, and you shrug.

"I'm sure it's something good," you say. You reach up, cupping his cheek with your free hand. "Whatever it is, the answer is yes."

He can't stop the smile that forms on his face. He doesn't even try. He just leans in, closing the gap between the two of you, and he kisses you, a soft press of his lips against yours. He feels you sigh against his mouth, and his eyes flutter closed as he loses himself in the kiss.

The fireworks are still going off, but he can barely hear them, and the cheers and laughter and music are distant, a soft hum that fades away. All he can focus on is the feel of your lips against his, the warmth of your body pressed against his, and the soft sound of your breathing.

He feels you smile, and his heart races, and he has to pull back to catch his breath. He opens his eyes, and he's met with the sight of you, your face flushed, and the most beautiful smile he's ever seen.

"That was nice," you say softly, and he scoffs.

“Just nice?" he asks, half-joking and half-serious. He’s just had the best kiss of his life, and if you think it was just nice, then he's got some work to do.

"Well, maybe it was a little more than nice," you tease. The look in your eyes has him leaning in again, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your lips and back.

"Only a little?"

"Yeah, a little."

"Hmm, well, let's try that again," he murmurs, and you laugh, a soft breath against his lips.

"Alright."

Crosshair kisses you again, and this time, the kiss is deeper, slower, and more deliberate. His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you onto his lap, and you don't hesitate to follow his lead. He runs his tongue along your lower lip, and when you moan into his mouth, he feels a thrill rush through him.

Your hands are on his shoulders, and you're straddling his lap as you kiss him back, matching his pace. The feel of your tongue sliding against, and the soft whimper you make when he bites down on your bottom lip, nearly drives him crazy. He grips your hips, and he tugs you closer, the pressure of your weight against him drawing a groan from his mouth into yours. It’s a sound so low and raw that it surprises him, but you don’t seem taken aback by it. If anything, you seem pleased, and it suddenly occurs to him that there’s a lot he doesn’t know about you.

And, for once, he's excited to learn.

He doesn't want this to end, and when you break the kiss, his lips chase yours, unwilling to part just yet. You're gasping, your breath coming in shallow pants, and he rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his fingers digging into your hips.

"You're right," you say, breathless. "Definitely better than nice."

Crosshair laughs, and he opens his eyes. The sight of you, your eyes dark and your cheeks flushed, lips swollen and red, is almost enough to make him let go of the fragile grasp he has on his control. He wants to kiss you again, and again, and again, but the sound of cheering startles him and reminds him of where he is.

He blinks, and he looks around, and then, he lets out a breath. The fireworks are over.

He hadn't realized.

You're still staring at him, a dazed look in your eyes, and when your lips twitch into a smirk, his grip on your hips tightens.

"Don't look at me like that," he warns, his voice raspy.

"Why not?" you ask. Your hand moves from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, fingers brushing against the hairs there, and it sends a shiver down his spine.

"Because I'm trying to be good," Crosshair explains. "And you're making it very difficult."

"I'm sorry," you say, but there's a hint of laughter in your voice that tells him you're not sorry at all.

"Don't be," he replies, and then, with a groan, he continues, "you're worth it."

Your cheeks flush, and he has to fight the urge to lean in and kiss you again. He knows if he does, he'll never be able to stop, and he'd prefer not to scandalize the locals. Or worse, have his brothers catch him in the act. So, instead, he takes a deep breath, and he moves his hands from your hips to your waist.

"Come on," he says, giving you a gentle nudge, and you pout.

"Fine," you sigh, and you give him a quick peck on the cheek before sliding off his lap. You stand and dust yourself off, and then, you offer him a hand. He takes it and lets you help him to his feet. You're still holding his hand as the two of you start walking, heading back up the stairs.

"So," you begin, breaking the silence, "when should we have that date?"

"Are you free tomorrow?"

"You don't waste any time, do you?" you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’ve wasted enough time," Crosshair says, his tone serious, and you give him a look of understanding

"Yeah, me too."

"So, tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow.”

The two of you share a smile, and he leads you back through through the courtyard. You walk slowly, and you let go of his hand, but the loss of contact is quickly forgotten when you lean into him, your shoulder brushing against his. He's tempted to wrap his arm around you, to pull you close, but the idea of having an audience for that makes his stomach turn, so he doesn't. Instead, he just enjoys the feeling of you at his side, and the easy way you fit into his space. 

It doesn’t take long to make it to the point where you part ways, and the two of you linger, neither one of you ready to leave the other.

"I guess this is goodnight," you say, your voice soft.

"I guess so."

You reach out and grab his hand, and you squeeze it, giving him a shy smile. He squeezes back, and then, without thinking, he raises your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of it.

The flash of embarrassment that follows is enough to make his face heat, but it's worth it for the way your eyes light up, and the faint blush that colors your skin. You duck your head, and the small, pleased smile on your face has his heart racing.

"Goodnight, Crosshair," you say.

"Goodnight."

You turn away, and he watches you go, his eyes lingering on the sway of your hips, and the way your hair dances in the wind. You don’t make it very far before you turn around, a mischievous grin on your face.

"By the way," you begin, your voice raised, and the smirk on his face fades. "Tell Omega I said thank you.”

Crosshair's eyes narrow, and his mouth opens and closes, his mind stuttering as he tries to process the words.

Omega set him up, and you knew, and this entire night was her idea. He'd known, in the back of his mind, that she'd been plotting something, and yet, it hadn't occurred to him until now just how much that entailed.

That little brat.

He can't decide if he's proud or embarrassed. He settles for a combination of the two, and the amused look on your face tells him that he's doing a poor job of hiding his feelings.

"Goodnight, Crosshair," you call out, a teasing lilt to your voice.

"Goodnight," he calls back, his tone flat.

You wave goodbye, and then, with a final, knowing look, you turn around and walk away.

He waits until you're out of sight before letting out a groan. Crosshair runs his hand down his face, and he shakes his head, trying not to think about how many times he'd made a fool of himself tonight. His siblings were never going to let him live this down. He sighs, and then, with a roll of his eyes, he starts walking.

When he makes it home, he finds them already gathered in the living room, talking amongst themselves. Omega’s chosen a chair that faces the front door, and her head snaps over toward him as soon as he walks in. Wrecker and Hunter catch on quick, and the room falls silent, the three of them watching him.

"So, how'd it go?" Omega asks innocently.

Crosshair glares at her, his eyes narrowed. She meets his gaze, a challenging look on her face, and he closes the front door with more force than necessary.

"It went fine."

"Fine?" Wrecker repeats. "That's it?"

They’re all staring at him now, and he can feel his temper rising, the heat of embarrassment rushing to his cheeks, and his fingers twitch, aching to shoot something. He forces himself to calm down, to remind himself they’re only asking because they care. Crosshair relaxes his shoulders, his jaw unclenching, and then, he lets out a sigh.

"Yes, fine," he says, his voice low. "We're going out tomorrow."

The room erupts into cheers and laughter, and Wrecker stands, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Crosshair squirms, trying to escape, but it's useless.

"Wrecker, let him go," Hunter orders, and Crosshair breathes a sigh of relief when his brother finally releases him.

"Thanks, Wrecker," Crosshair grumbles, only to let out a grunt when Omega barrels into him, her arms wrapped around his waist.

"I told you it would work," she says, and Crosshair reaches down and ruffles her hair.

"Yes, you did," he concedes, and the look of triumph on her face has him rolling his eyes. He sighs and extracts himself from her embrace, and he clears his throat. “She says thanks.”

Omega beams, and Wrecker and Hunter laugh, clapping him on the back. They congratulate him, teasing him, and he bears it as best he can, trying not to show how happy he is even as his heart races, and a warm feeling spreads through him.

He hadn't thought he'd have this again, a family, people who cared about him, and he hadn't dared to hope that he'd find something else, something more. He hadn't even known what he was missing until he met you.

And, for the first time in a long time, he's excited for the future.

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@marchingviolinist @deerspringdreams

technical devotion, part fourteen: changes

a/n okay so I have no restraint, I uploaded the last chapter and then immediately wrote this and am posting it immediately. also I am sorry I cannot write lingering conflict, I have no backbone. also new banner!! bc I'm indecisive. now that you know all my issues, enjoy!

warnings: depiction of a panic attack, smoking

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Echo had expected things to be different when him and Kan got back to base, but he hadn't expected it to be so immediate.

They had barely set one foot inside before they were whisked into command, where Kan was informed that her skillset would prove useful for mission planning, and that she would take on more responsibility from now on, gaining the unofficial rank of Sergeant. She had been honoured, of course, but it felt like something that was very much out if her comfort zone. She wasn't a leader, she was a follower, and that's how she liked it. Though, if Rex had faith in her, she trusted his judgement.

Echo was happy that he'd be working with Kan more regularly now, but so was almost everyone else in the room. He couldn't blame his brothers, she was gorgeous, and almost elusive to most of them, having never spoken to them. He watched on painfully as she reunited with Howzer, jumping into his open arms and hugging him tightly, and as they stayed touching each other, catching up excitedly.

Then he watched her reunite with her other friends from across the mess, Oscar ruffling her hair as he hugged her from the side, and Teddy high-fiving her and embracing her for good measure for beating Howzer to a proper command position.

Echo felt so foolish.

Foolish that he thought he was special because she was kind to him, foolish that he thought he was lucky to get to experience her touch, and foolish for ever even entertaining the idea that she could possibly harbour feelings for him.

Kan was kind, but she gave out her kindness to everyone without exception. That's what made it so hard for Echo to feel negatively about her - it wasn't her fault, it was his. His mistake.

And now it was too late to do anything about it.

He had fallen for her. Hard. And now he would have to carry on as if she was any other person at the base. He didn't know if he could, and so, reluctantly, he tried to distance himself from her.

Kan noticed immediately when Echo started pulling away. For one, whenever he had to address her in the command centre, he would call her ‘Kan’. She didn't mind of course, it was her name after all, but she had got used to him calling her ‘M'aira’, and she much preferred when he called her that. He was the only one who did, and that's what made it special.

He also never came to see her in her office, never said a word if she ever sat with Rex and Gregor at meal times, never spoke to her before bed, and she hadn't looked into his eyes since the day they got back. It hurt her a lot, and the only logical conclusion she could draw was that he was embarrassed of her. Embarrassed to call her M'aira, embarrassed to talk to her, and embarrassed to even look at her.

She didn't know why he felt that way, but it was obvious that whatever bond they had created during their time away from base was just a one sided thing. That it hadn't meant anything to Echo.

Between that and her new command position, Kan was extremely stressed out.

Her brain was going at a klick a minute, unable to shut off from either mission plans or Echo. She couldn't focus, and the only respite she got was sleep but that would elude her because the cause of half her problems was sleeping right next to her. She had begun sleeping in her office again, though her back certainly wasn't happy about it.

Teddy was a perceptive clone, and he could see how haggard she had become. He contantly asked how she was, but she would always just say she was tired, that was it. She had none of the usual spring in her step, and after a couple weeks of it not going away, and only getting worse, he finally did something.

He dragged her outside after dinner, with the aim of getting her to relax. He took her over to the edge of the platform, and they sat down, looking out on the view of the deep reds and browns of the rocky terrain that surrounded the base.

“Here” He offered her his cigarra after he'd taken a drag, “To help you relax”

“No thanks” She said simply, accompanied by a weak smile.

“Kan…” Teddy began. He didn't really know what to say, but he tried his best, “What's going on with you? And I want a real answer this time”

Kan looked up at him sadly, her eyes glistening, before looking out to the view again. “I don't know, everything is just too much at the moment” She took the cigarra from his hand and took a long drag before passing it back.

Teddy watched on in worry, “What is? It might help to get it off your mind”

Kan sighed deeply, exhaling the smoke, “It sounds so ridiculous when I say it out loud though”

“I'm sure it doesn't, come on” Teddy urged, and he could see her cracking, beginning to open up.

“Well… for one, being a Sergeant is absolutely no fun” She said pointedly, and Teddy chuckled.

“Why not?”

“It's so much responsibility, I can't stop thinking about how my actions affect everyone here, how I could be the reason for someone being killed or captured by the Empire” She explained, her shoulders slumping with each word.

“Have you talked to Rex about it?” Teddy asked.

“No” Kan laughed, “I couldn't, he's such a natural, he wouldn't understand”

Teddy shook his head, “Just because he's a natural doesn't mean he lacks empathy. I'm sure he'd be able to help ease your worries”

“Maybe about that” Kan mumbled, loud enough for Teddy to hear it.

“What else is going on then?” He asked, taking another drag.

Kan looked out at the view despondently, slumped forwards onto her knees. He gave her the time to answer the question on her own time, which took longer than he was hoping.

“It's Echo” She finally whispered.

“Echo? What about him?” Teddy hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary with him.

“It's- We-” Kan sighed aggressively, “We were getting on so well during our mission, but when we came back, it's like he hated me or something. He never talks to me unless it's regarding a mission but even then it's more talking around me to other people, and he never looks at me anymore, I just-” She stopped herself before she could get choked up.

“You just what?” Teddy pressed.

Kan chewed on her lip, “I really thought he might like me back, you know?” She said quietly, and Teddy understood immediately.

He placed his arm around her shoulders and hugged her into his side. “I know, I know” He spoke soothingly, rubbing her arm.

Kan rested her head on Teddy's shoulder, “It's just embarrassing, to be wrong”

“Yeah, but hey, that's on him. If he doesn't like you, he's a di'kut”

Kan looked up and saw the small grin on Teddy's face, and her own lips curled up, “Yeah?”

“Absolutely, you're a catch” Teddy said, earning a small giggle from Kan.

“Thanks Teddy, so are you”

“I know” He smirked, resting his head against hers as they looked out again.

“Thanks for bringing me here, I really needed this” Kan spoke sincerely.

“No problem K” Teddy squeezed her slightly before standing up, “Let's go inside yeah?”

Kan didn't respond immediately, looking over the setting sun, “I think I'll just stay here for another moment, watch the sun set”

“Alright, I'll see you later then” Teddy said, giving her shoulder a supportive squeeze before walking away.

When she knew Teddy had left, Kan finally let herself cry.

She let out a choked sob, the product of bottling up her frustration, anger, sadness and embarrassment for weeks. Now that she had popped the cork, she couldn't stop the flow of tears that fell from her eyes. She pulled her knees to her chest and buried her head in them, her vision blurred and her breath ragged.

She thought of her mother and father. She wondered if they would be proud of the work she was doing. She thought of Master Unduli, she thought of Spider, she thought of Senator Organa, she thought of Rex, Howzer, Gregor, Oscar, Teddy, and finally, Echo. Every insecure thought, every nasty thing she ever had to say about herself clogged her mind in an instant, and she felt as if she couldn't breathe.

She let her legs hang over the side of the platform again and gripped the edges tightly. Her eyes were screwed shut and her breathing was only becoming more unstable, no matter how much she tried to calm it. Her stomach was in knots, she was choking on the tears that wouldn't stop falling, and her body was shaking involuntarily. She knew what this was, she had experienced them enough, and she just hoped that if she could grip the platform hard enough that it would subside quicker. She had no such luck.

She heard her name shouted, but to her it sounded feint, like she was underwater. She curled up again, facing away from the voice. She heard them again, and felt someone touch her back gently, though they might as well have struck her with lightning for how she reacted.

She flinched away, trying to find her voice, managing to choke out “Go away”

Her own voice sounded foreign to her ears in this altered state of being, but she couldn't think about it for too much longer before she was enveloped by a pair of arms. She rested her forehead on the person's chest, heaving and trying to calm herself. As she came down from the worst of it, something about the person felt so familiar, and she soon realised exactly who it was when they brought a hand to the bare skin on her back, and it was exceedingly cold and smooth.

She knocked herself backwards, falling onto her backside as she looked up at him, the catalyst of all her problems. Echo was looking down at her with worry painted on his face, and she frowned as her breathing evened out more. She scrambled from the floor and uttered apologies as she ran away from him, back towards the base.

Echo followed after her, catching up to her quickly and moving around her so he could stop in front of her.

“M'aira, what's going on? What's the matter?” He asked, placing his hands gently on either side of her arms.

Kan didn't say anything. She just stared at him, her chest heaving and a deep frown settled over her features.

“M'aira?” Echo said quietly, stepping towards her, but Kan stepped back a few paces.

“Why are you calling me that?” She tried to speak plainly, but her voice was still thick with emotion.

“What?” Echo asked, confused as to why she would ask that.

“Aren't you worried someone is going to see us talking?” She asked, her voice breaking.

Echos heart fell from his chest, “What do you mean?”

Kan could feel her bottom lip begin to quiver and she instinctively dug her teeth into it to stop it. She wasn't going to let Echo see her cry. Well, anymore than he already had.

“What’s going on M'aira, why are you upset?”

The use of the nickname once more sent her over the edge, “Because of you!” She shouted, though her anger was swallowed by embarrassment as she barged past Echo and made her way inside.

Echo stood frozen on the spot.

Because of me? But I haven't even spoken to her in… oh.

He quickly followed after her again, not entirely sure where she was headed but he hoped it was towards her office. He saw the door close from the end of the hall and heard the lock engage immediately after, something he didn't even know the door was capable of.

He knocked a few times, and heard Kan sniffle but she didn't reply.

“M'aira, please open up” He said gently, leaning his forehead on the door.

“Go away Echo” She replied, and Echo sighed deeply.

“Kandam'aira… please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you”

The door then zipped open and he fell forwards slightly, finding himself in the room as Kan closed the door again.

“What did you mean to do?” She looked up at him sternly, her cheeks stained by tears.

“I-” He couldn't admit to his feelings right now, that would only confuse her, “I just thought you might want some space”

“Why would you think that? I thought we were friends, Echo. Friends at least look at each other from time to time”

“I know, I'm sorry, I guess I just figured that we'd been together for a while and you might be sick of me” He stated, though it came out more like a question.

“Well I don't” Kan crossed her arms, and Echo blinked at her.

“Don't what?”

Kan rolled her eyes, “I don't want space”

“Oh, right” Echo said awkwardly, and Kan felt her undeniable fondness for him returning as she looked up at his blushing cheeks.

She then quickly wrapped her arms around his torso, hugging him tightly, “I missed you”

Echo could feel his heart ache as she gripped him tightly, and he matched her hold, resting his cheek on the top of her head, “I missed you too”

Kan pulled back, looking up at him sheepishly, “I'm sorry you had to see me all…” She wiped her cheek, “Panicky”

“I don't mind, I'm just sorry that I caused it” He said, bringing his own hand up to wipe the wetness from her cheek.

Kan sighed, “It wasn't just you”

Echo gave her a questioning look and she shook her head slightly, “I'm just stressed, but I'll be fine”

“What are you stressed about?” Echo pressed.

“Nothing, I think I'm going to get an early night now” She said, opening the door.

“Hey” Echo gripped her shoulders lightly, “We can talk about it if you want?”

“Another time maybe” She smiled up at him, “Goodnight Echo”

Echo sighed with a worried smile, “Goodnight M'aira”

Kan's smile grew at the use of the nickname as she stepped away from Echo, hoping its return was permanent.

hey guys !

i'm going to be deleting my posts for my story 'the forgotten clones'

it will be back though!

i've planned out so much for it and I love my OCs soooooo much in that story, but rn my mind is preoccupied with the Echo fic, and i'm going to finish that before I start forgotten clones back up again.

I also want to do some rewrites on the chapters I have posted bc i'm a perfectionist hehe, (partly the reason i'm deleting it - i hate the fact that it's just sitting there unfinished)

even if no one cares now or when I post it in the future I honestly don't care heh I love some of the ideas I have for it

but alas

that's it! have a nice day! <3 <3

technical devotion, part fifteen: promises made

a/n: I think I'm gonna start aiming to get a chapter of this out every thursday roughly. I have everything planned out apart from how it's gonna end lmao, but rest assured, it shall be happy. I'm looking forward to you guys seeing what's in store! also, I did not realise how slow burn this would be lol, we're still a way off from first kiss territory, buuuuut... this chapter is one I've been waiting to write since the beginning ! hope you enjoy it (sorry for the long a/n)

warnings: injury & pain (not in any great detail) insecure echo :/

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In the weeks following Kan and Echo rekindling their friendship, Kan slowly began to get a grasp on her new role in the ranks, which was mainly because Echo was now there to support her. He was there to remind her not to let her worries overtake her, and a hand on her arm, or an encouraging smile, usually did the trick. Echo's presence calmed her in an instant, and the task of leading didn't seem as daunting with him around. Not that it was always so simple.

Kan stepped out of the command room, rubbing a hand over her face and sighing deeply. Echo was quick to notice as he exited behind her.

“Have you been sleeping?” He asked, stopping her in the corridor.

“I've been sleeping fine yeah, its just… My mind. My mind is tired” She admitted.

“What's wrong?” Echo frowned.

Kan exhaled a long breath, “I really don't know if I'm meant to lead people. It's really outside of my comfort zone even now, and it's just got my brain going into overdrive. I can't stop thinking about… What if something really bad happened under my watch? Or because of a decision I made? I don't think I could cope Echo”

Echo's expression softened the more Kan spoke, a silent admiration of her showing on his features. He placed his hands on her shoulders, something he noted that helped to ground her and gain her focus entirely.

“M'aira, you're doing a great job, and you'll continue to. Rex wouldn't choose you for this if he didn't think you could do it or handle it, and if it means anything to you, I believe in you too”

Kan let a shy smile lift the edges of her lips, “Thanks, it means a lot yeah”

Echo returned her smile, “Now, come with me, I have a small surprise for you”

“You do?” Kan looked up at him with slightly widened eyes.

“It's nothing special” He said as he took his hands away from her shoulders and began walking towards her office, “I just figured that since you seem to insist on sleeping in your office every night…”

Echo opened the door, showing his handiwork to Kan.

“…That having your bunk in here might be the way to go. That way I can stop worrying about you as well”

Kan grinned up at the clone, wrapping her arms around his waist and giving him a quick tight squeeze, “Thank you Echo, you're too kind to me”

Echo shook his head with a smile, resisting the urge to pull Kan back towards him, “Not really, if I was kind I would have tidied up in here too”

Kan looked around her office, still messy as ever. It seemed that Echo had just pushed the worst of the mess aside to make room for the bed.

“It's fine, I don't mind it like this anyway, the mess doesn't really bother me” She shrugged.

Echo huffed a small laugh, “I don't think I could cope if my office was this messy”

Kan hummed thoughtfully, her eyes darting across the mess.

“When do you leave for your mission?” Kan asked, looking back up into his honey eyes.

“We leave early tomorrow morning” Echo gave a sad smile.

“So I won't see you before you go?” Kan questioned, and Echo shook his head. Kan chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, “I wish I was going with you”

Echo could feel the words tugging at his heart, “I don't”

Kan gave him a stern look, her eyebrows drawn together.

He chuckled, “You can't get hurt if you don't go at all”

“You think I can't handle myself?” Kan asked, minorly offended but mostly confused.

“Oh I know you can, I‘m just happier knowing you're safe” Echo confessed, and he could feel his cheeks heating at the slightly vulnerable admission.

Kan just huffed, “Well it doesn't get much more safe than sitting around in the base all day”

“You'll get your chance to go into the field again, don't worry” He assured, a hand on her shoulder.

Kan smiled. Her eyes didn't meet his for a few seconds, but when they did he could tell there was a certain sadness laced within the gentle expression.

“Be safe, yeah?” She urged quietly.

Echo smiled softly, the edges of his eyes crinkling, “I will”

Without warning and much thought of her own, Kan wrapped her arms around Echo again, more tenderly this time. Echo could feel his heart beating out of his chest as he gently wrapped her in his own arms, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

In the past weeks, Kan had become more physically comfortable around Echo, and though he enjoyed it thoroughly, it was still always a little startling. Especially with a touch so gentle and tender as the hug she was currently giving him, it was hard to not be overwhelmed.

“Don't do anything stupid. Don't get yourself hurt” Kan spoke into his chest, and he was certain she could hear how furiously his heart was beating.

“I won't” He replied, hugging her tighter into his body to reassure her, “I promise”

Kan nodded along, listening intently as Rex detailed the upcoming mission. She was a little disappointed to not seem to be going on this mission, as they were going to be infiltrating the base that she had discovered through listening in on the Empire's long range comms. It was a dangerous job, they knew nothing about what this prison would be like once they were in, but that was the reason they were set on going. There were clones being imprisoned there, and they wanted to know why.

“Now, while all that is going on, me and Kan will be on a separate directive, looking to garner any information about this prison” Rex continued, and Kan's ears perked up, her posture straightening at the mention of her.

Rex hadn't discussed this with her before, but she was more than happy to do it, particularly with him.

“That's the plan as of now, but we'll have to wait until more men are back here to enact it” Rex moved away from the central holotable and crossed his arms, “I suggest getting some good rest tonight, they could be back at any time and I want to get this done as soon as possible”

Rex dismissed the clones, and Kan was immediately at his side.

“Rex, about the-”

“Sorry to spring that on you, I was hoping to speak with you earlier but your door was locked” Rex explained.

“Ah right, yeah, I was… tidying”

“Tidying?” Rex raised an eyebrow, a small smirk quirking his lips.

“Yeah, anyway, I wanted to ask you-”

Kan didn't get the chance to finish her question as the door to the command centre zipped open and her focus was drawn towards it. She did a double take, the sight she took in not registering in her mind at first.

It was Echo. He was back from his mission, but something was wrong. His form was alarmingly straight and rigid, his forearm resting against the door frame and holding him up. Each small movement sent a twitch to his face, his teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut, nostrils flared.

Kan's heart leapt to her throat, and she rushed over to him.

“What happened?” She spoke hurriedly, paying no mind to the other clones around them who watched on.

Echo exhaled shakily, “Got… shot, in the back”

Kan tried so desperately to remain calm despite the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. She turned to look at Rex over her shoulder, hoping for some kind of support.

“We haven’t got a proper medic” He said, clearly shaken by his brother's condition.

That snapped Kan into gear, “I've got medical training, I've got it”

Kan took Echo's arm and threw it over her shoulder, pulling a pained groan from him. She quickly led him to her office, which was only just down the hall, and smacked the door panel in a frantic hurry. She set him down on the bed gently and instantly went about rooting around in the draws of her desk looking for her medkit. When she had found it, she looked up at Echo, who was trying to take off his armour, and failing as his wound cried out in pain.

“Stop, let me do it” Kan spoke instantly, standing in front of him and shooing his hands away.

Her fingers got working on the clasps, starting with his arms and working her way up, exactly as Echo did it.

“How do you know how to do this?” He asked, fighting through his pain.

“I've watched you do it enough times” Kan replied, a small shrug in her shoulders as she focused. Echo would've smirked but his chest plate dug into his wound as she took it off. “Sorry” She whispered.

“S'fine” Echo managed to hiss out as Kan climbed over the bed to sit behind him cross-legged. She tried to survey the damage, to see how bad it really was, but to no avail.

“Could you take this off?” Kan asked, her fingers playing with the hem of his blacks.

If it was possible, Echo’s body seized up even more. He nervously fidgeted his own fingers along the hem, letting out an exasperated huff. His blaster wound was sending small shocks through his body with every movement, but he was single-mindedly focused on not letting Kan take off his top.

Kan noted his discomfort immediately, and let out a sigh.

“Echo” She spoke so gently from behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder, “It's okay, please let me help you”

Echo relented with a slump of his shoulders, “Okay”

Kan helped to peel off the tight base layer, several pained noises escaping the man she was helping. As she saw the wound, she couldn't help but suck a sharp breath between her teeth. Three blaster bolts scorched into his lower back, creating a cluster of open wounds.

Echo assumed her reaction was to seeing the cybernetic attachments he had in his back. His breath was shaky as he tried to calm himself, but it only became more unstable as Kan traced around the outside of his wound.

“I told you to be safe Echo” She whispered, “You promised not to get hurt”

She sounded so solemn, and Echo couldn't find it in himself to say anything. Thankfully, she then got to work on the wound, but it wasn't without discomfort. She first administered a pain relief injection, and his breath caught in his throat as she cupped the side of his neck to do so. She warned him every time she was going to touch him, the antiseptic wipe against his wound making him flinch and grunt more than he wished, stinging even with the pain relief. She placed a bacta patch over the area when she had cleaned it appropriately, and it stung for just a second before the bacta started working it's magic.

“Does that feel better?” She asked quietly, and Echo just nodded

Kan ran her fingers along the edge of the metal apparatus that climbed up his back, causing Echo to shudder under her touch. The feeling of it was so intimate, yet so tainted by sadness and clouded by self-concious thoughts that Echo couldn't focus on the warmth of Kan's fingers against his bare back.

“You're lucky, they almost hit your spine” She spoke, sounding resoundingly serious.

Echo could only hang his head. He felt so ashamed. He had worked hard to get past this mindset, but with the woman he desired like no other sitting behind him and inspecting the damage done to his body, he couldn't help it.

Kan could understand a little of what Echo was thinking, she just hoped she was wrong. She slid from behind him and knelt in front of him on the floor, but he wouldn't look at her.

“Echo” She said as gently as she could, placing a hand on his knee, “I'm glad you're okay”

Echo looked up to her, and the emotions she saw swimming in his eyes were almost enough to bring her to tears.

“What can I say to make you feel better?” She asked in a whisper, for fear that speaking louder would cause him to break.

“There's nothing to say” He said firmly, looking down to his lap.

Kan couldn't help but reach out. She placed a hand on his face, lightly rubbing her thumb along his cheekbone.

“Please talk to me” She pleaded.

After a moment of painful silence, Echo sighed, “I don't show people my cybernetics for a reason”

“Echo it's okay-”

“But it's not” He frowned, his eyes snapping to Kan’s once more. “It's not okay. The attachments, they- they're not exactly desirable, and no one wants someone with all… this. I-” He puffed out a sad breath, the next admission feeling daunting, “It makes me feel like I'm half a man”

Kan's heart broke.

“That's not true” She said sternly, both hands now on his cheeks, forcing him to pay attention to her words, “You're every bit of a man as any other, and even more than that, you're a good man Echo. Anyone would be lucky to have you”

“Anyone?” Echo asked, a hopeful look in his eyes.

Kan wasn't really sure what he was asking. Was he asking because he just wanted confirmation that she was telling the truth? Or was it something more? She weighed her options of what to say, biting into her bottom lip with her eyebrows pinched. She couldn't just admit to her affections for him right now if that wasn't what he was after.

Instead, she took her hands away from his face, sitting back of her heels with a shy look on her face, “Yes, anyone”

Kan stood up and grabbed the medkit, taking it back over to the desk and placing it in the draw.

“You stay here tonight, I'll take your bunk” She said, turning around to meet Echo's intense gaze once more.

“No, I'm fine, I'll-” He was interrupted by his own sharp intake of breath as he tried to stand.

Kan smiled at him knowingly and walked over, placing her hands on his shoulder to keep him rooted to the bed.

“Please, stay here” She insisted.

She found herself lost in Echo's eyes. So many emotions were flitting through them and she couldn't keep track. She absent-mindedly began rubbing her thumb along his bare collarbone, before she realised what she was doing and pulled away.

“I'll see you tomorrow” She nodded to him, leaving quickly and shutting the door behind her.

Echo let out a breath that he didn't realise he was holding and laid back on the bed. His mind was full to the brim with every thought he’d had about Kan since meeting her.

Her distinct scent enveloped him as he crawled into her bunk. He inhaled deeply, letting it take him over and overpower him, washing away his troubled thoughts, and eventually letting it lull him into a peaceful sleep.