Work Text:
Fox never planned for after the war.
He's seen how two sided senators were. He's seen just how little they cared about the clones who died in their stupid war. He's learned not to be optimistic because the only way that could end was getting his hopes shattered. So no, he didn't plan for after the war. He knew how low his chances at survival were.
When the war ended and he was still alive... It was a surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one.
The senate would have a long time deciding what to do with clones. There were many ideas, varying from decommissioning the entire army or using them as unpaid workforce to giving them citizenship and a monthly income of credits as a thank you for their services in the war. Luckily for the clones, the Jedi felt so guilty about the whole thing they somehow made the senate give them citizenship in less than a week.
Almost a month later, the question of the rewards for their services still wasn't clear but at least they were free. They didn't need the Republic to pay them, they could live with little and when they weren't too picky about their job, it was easy to find something. The Jedi order also provided the troopers in need with rooms in various temples and gave out food. All Fox's batchmates said it was because the Jedi were kind and charitable people. They were brainwashed, obviously. The Jedi were clearly guilty after letting clones be killed in a war that was orchestrated by the Sith lord who they just failed to notice. Like really, Palpatine wasn't even subtle, he kept Sith artifacts in his office.
Fox, fortunately, didn't have to accept any help from the Jedi. He lived in a luxurious apartment, drove an expansive car and ordered take outs instead of the terrible meal they served in the mess. His brothers always asked him how he got so successful. There was no way he could afford that from a Coruscant Guard commander's pay, right?
Fox never told anyone how he got credits. There were many theories of various levels of craziness. Fox's favorite was the one where he blackmailed senators for a living. Of course, there were also many rumors about him robbing a bank or secretly selling Intel and much more. None of that was right.
The main source of Fox's income was lying on his chest, effectively preventing him from getting up. And while Fox would love to stay in bed like this, he needed to get ready for work and listen to more crazy theories about how he made money.
"Good morning, love," he whispered as he threaded his fingers through purple hair. "Will you let me get up."
The only response is a tired grunt.
"I really need to get up."
"No you don't."
"I need to work."
"No you don't."
"Darling, I really-"
"Stay."
Fox wished he could. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered before pushing her away so he could get up. He really should stop taking morning shifts.
"At least make me some coffee."
"Of course, love!" He liked his post-war life.