Chapter Text
Crosshair was gone when you woke in the morning. Though a little disappointing, you know that he made the right choice. Sleeping in the same bed on Kamino is not the same as the Marauder.
You have yet to see any of the other boys around, though that is mostly your own fault. Things have gotten insanely hectic in the armory, with new specifications and instructions sent out overnight for you to reinstate today. You and your crew have been busy trying to reorganize everything to the Empire's new standards, including fulfilling orders for more weapons and armor.
You haven't left the armory since early this morning, even opting to eat lunch there as you finalize new paperwork and help everyone understand their roles under this new and sudden government. But when a familiar order request comes across your datapad, you drop everything and rush to see it through yourself.
You grab a trolley and wheel it around so you can meet them yourself when they come to get their order before taking off. "Hiya, boys." You greet them with a grin as you lazily lean on the trolley handle.
"Ace!" Wrecker cheers. He rushes up to your side, enveloping you in a tight hug.
"You didn't think you could just enter my place of work without saying hello, did you?" You laugh as he places you back on the ground.
"Didn't know you were on shift," Wrecker says. A smirk quickly appears on his face as he elbows Crosshair's side, making him groan. "But I should have since Crosshair tagged along without complaining."
"Whatever." He huffs, rubbing his side as he glares at Wrecker. He then gives you a relaxed smile and removes the toothpick from his mouth. "It's nice to see that the newly created Empire has its prettiest supply specialist out on the floor to help with orders instead of locked away in an office. Makes me wish I would have just come down here myself." He nearly purrs as he eyes you up and down.
Wrecker gags and pretends to throw up in response as you feel your cheeks burn slightly. "Gross. I know you haven't seen Ace since last night, but keep it to yourself." He grumbles, making you softly chuckle and shake your head.
You then begin swiping through your datapad to pull up their file, wanting to keep things on task. "So where are you boys headed this time? Somewhere not too cold for Crosshair's sake, I'm hoping. We both know how whiny he can get."
Wrecker laughs at that while Crosshair ignores your comment. "Onderon. Tarkin's got some blasted mission for us. Apparently, there's a group of insurgents he can't get rid of." He says as you leans over your shoulder, taking a peek at your datapad.
"Ah, had to call in the big guns, huh?" You smile, making him huff in amusement as you look back at him. He's standing very close to you now, and you feel his hand begin to lightly brush against your waist. You find yourself freezing at this sudden display of intimacy. It's not that he hasn't done it before, but it's never been on base with so many others around.
You clear your throat and look back down at your datapad, trying to force your brain to think about work and not the path he's tempting you to follow. "When did you file this, Wrecker?" You ask as his fingers still trace your sides.
"Last night. Why?" He says, giving you a confused frown.
"Well, technically, this form is no longer considered valid under Imperial law." You say, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as Crosshair's hand now finds a resting place on your lower back.
"Aw, are you saying I have to fill the whole stinkin' thing out again?" He whines, his whole body sagging in disappointment.
"I could make you do that, but I was going to suggest something you'll enjoy a lot more."
"What?"
You shrug. "My crew is supposed to be recounting and restocking all of our weapons and supplies this evening. The Empire doesn't trust our files to be carried over from the GAR, considering the last person in charge here was discharged for inappropriate handling of GAR property."
You glance over your shoulder to see an actual grin grow on Crosshair's face. Wrecker makes a noise of confusion to get your attention, letting you know he still doesn't quite understand what you're implying.
"I'll let you have anything you want from here. No questions asked."
His jaw drops and he lets out a dramatic gasp. "You're serious?" He asks with quiet awe.
"Dead."
His face suddenly hardens and he actually looks terrifying. "No tricks?"
"No tricks, buddy." You assure. "I'll seriously let you have anything you want from here." You grin as he lets out a loud whoop. "I've even got a few new toys for you to check out just a few aisles down. They arrived this morning."
Before you can tell him anything else, he snatches the trolley from you, whips it around, and begins scanning the armory. "This is the happiest day of my life." He softly cries, his eyes filling with tears as he rolls past you.
You chuckle and shake your head in amusement before fully turning to face Crosshair. "Here, I grabbed these for you." You say as you hand him a thin package, excited to see his reaction.
He gives you a questioning look before taking it and examining it. His eyes go wide as he quickly realizes what you've just given him. "You're kidding."
You lightly laugh. "I figured you'd enjoy those reflectors disks. I stumbled upon the last pack of them a couple of weeks ago in one of our more secure units. These things are the best quality you can get, and let me tell you, they're not easy to find." You smile as you poke the package.
He turns it over, as if checking if it is real. Behind him, Wrecker throws a case onto the trolley and starts loading it up. "I don't deserve you, Ace." He says in disbelief.
"Probably not. But why don't you just take back what you said about me being incapable of getting you reflector disks and I'll pretend like I don't know that." You joke with a grin. He looks up, suddenly grabbing your head and pulling your lips to his.
You squeak in surprise, but kiss him back for a few seconds before parting and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Tongue? Really?" You say with pretend disgust though you feel yourself getting warm from the boldness of his kiss.
"Really. Got show my appreciation somehow." He says before returning his eyes to the package, reminding you of a child in a toy store.
Which you suppose this kind of is for them.
Wrecker comes back over and points at the pack of disks. "Woah! Where'd you find those babies?"
Crosshair protectively pulls them to his chest. "Don't even think about it." He growls.
"I wasn't! I was just— Wait, are you crying?"
"No!" He snaps, turning away from the two of you. "This place is just too bright for my eyes." He says, rubbing at his face with his free hand.
You and Wrecker share a silent look of shock and amusement, covering your mouths to hide your laughter as Crosshair rounds a corner to get away.
You both take some time to quietly collect yourselves, not wanting to upset Crosshair. Together, you continue gathering up items they'll need for their mission to Onderon, going through Wrecker's request form and adding a few fun extras.
With each item that you add to the trolley, you find yourself getting increasingly concerned for them.
These weapons pack a bit more punch than their usual ones.
You take in a deep breath, swallowing down your anxiety. They're well-trained soldiers and are expected to carry out dangerous missions. But, after how Crosshair was acting last night and his obvious fight with Hunter, you can't help but worry.
"Wrecker," you say, grabbing his forearm as he adds some thermal detonators to a crate. "Keep an eye on Crosshair for me, okay? There's something weird going on with him, but I can't figure it out."
"Sure thing, Ace." He promises while lightly patting your hand. "He's just in a funk because of the last mission. He'll get it over it soon."
"I know. I'm just worried." You quietly frown. You glance over your shoulder, trying to see if Crosshair is anywhere nearby. "He just wasn't himself last night."
"Did he tell you about what happened out there?" Wrecker asks. His burly body suddenly tenses and he begins to fidget with his hands.
Not a good sign.
You shake your head, your chest constricting with nervousness. "Wouldn't tell me. No matter how hard I pressed." You say, keeping your voice down in case he's nearby.
He groans as his hand comes up to rub against the back of his neck. He looks anywhere but at you. Again, not a good sign. "It's probably for the best. It wasn't pretty." He grumbles in a low voice.
Both of your heads snap to watch Crosshair round another corner. He gives you two a confused glare, completely unaware of what you're talking about, as he keeps his distance from you. This gives you just a few more seconds to talk. "I just know Hunter and him got in a fight involving the mission." You quickly say. "But he won't talk about that either. Not even to complain."
Wrecker's unusually stern. You take in his tight lipped face and furrowed eyebrows. It's not a comforting sight considering he's usually radiating positivity. "It hasn't been good, Ace. They've fought before. But never like this." He confesses.
You take in a deep breath. "That bad?" You quietly ask.
He nods, but finally, a soft smile appears on his face. "They'll be alright though. It happens. They're both just stubborn as hell, ya know?" He encourages, lightly punching your shoulder.
"Yeah." You absentmindedly nod while rubbing your shoulder from his hit. "Still, just watch over him for me. Please. I get nervous for you guys when you're out in the field. Especially him."
"Always!" Wrecker cheers before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. "Nothing bad will happen to him on my watch!" He chuckles deeply as Crosshair reappears.
He glares at the two of you but you can easily see isn't actually upset. "You finally done stocking up?" He asks as he joins you.
"Yeah, I got what we need and a few extras." He grins, shockingly able to pretend like the two of you weren't just discussing Crosshair and his unusual behavior.
After helping them add a few more items to their inventory, you watch them leave the armory to prep for their mission. As they go, you can't help but hope that Wrecker will keep his word and watch over Crosshair for you. Though you know he can handle himself, when it comes to conflicts with his brothers, Crosshair can't help but get himself into some messy situations.
X X X
You have little time to even worry about the boys on their mission. The amount of paperwork now piling up on your plate is insane. It's a struggle to get anything done, especially since everything is considered a priority at the moment. This transfer to an new form of government requires a lot more work than you think anyone planned.
Or else they probably wouldn't have done it in the first place.
You sit at your desk, rubbing your temples in a deep, circular motion.
You don't even notice Emilian entering your office.
"What are you still doing here?"
You jump, opening your eyes with a startle. He's pressing one hand against the doorway, preventing the door from sliding shut.
"Kriff me." You lightheartedly grumble as you lean back against your chair. You take in a long breath before gesturing him to enter. Once the door slides shut, you give him a tired smile. "If you're coming in for a pay raise, you're going to have to wait. I still have the opportunity to 'forget' to approve your incoming paycheck from the former GAR."
He shakes his head with a light chuckle as sits in front of you. "Well, in that case, I don't see the reason why I had to clock in tonight."
You turn in your chair to glance at the chrono. "Shit. Is it that late already?"
He nods his head. "I've actually been on duty for two hours now."
You groan and drag your hands down your face at the realization of how late it truly is. Being on a constantly dark and rainy planet has been messing up your already out-of-whack sleep schedule. Being in an office surrounded by important and demanding work is only adding to the struggle of calling it quits at a decent time.
"Have you eaten today?" He asks once you bring your gaze back to him.
"I had whatever the cafeteria considers edible a couple of hours ago."
His eyebrow arches. "Actual hours ago? Or your version of hours ago?"
You give him a smile and shrug. "You'd like to know, wouldn't you?"
This makes him shake his head in disappointment and disapproval. He quietly says your name, scolding you as if he's your father. "You need to start taking better care of yourself. You can't be working yourself this hard. Not for what they're paying you, anyway."
You scoff and gesture to your desk. "Well, I don't exactly see anyone else lining up to get this done."
He glares in response, clearly not liking that response. "That doesn't justify you working yourself to death."
You sit up in your chair and lean your elbows onto your desk. You give him a stern look, one that you reserve for special occasions. "Well, if you came in here to demand that I clock out, you're wasting your breath. I have at least three files that need to be proofread and sent out in by 6 tomorrow morning." You say, dropping your voice.
Emilian remains silent, not deterred from your deadly glare and tone of voice. Hoping he'll get the picture, you drop your head and get right back to what you were working on before your headache began. You force yourself to ignore him, hoping that eventually the old man will just give up and go back to work in the armory.
Instead, you find yourself caving to his obnoxious staring and lift your eyes to meet his. "Anything else?" You scoff, your voice a lot harsher than it truly should have been.
"You're running."
"I'm sorry, what?" You ask with an amused huff. This actually makes you set down your datapad and put your full attention on him.
He nods his head and leans forward. His elbows rest on his bony knees as he studies you. "I've seen this before. You're running from something. You want to avoid thinking about whatever has got you so stressed out."
You tilt your head. "Does it look like I'm trying to avoid work? The thing that's stressing me out?"
He doesn't lose eye contact with you. "Work isn't what you're avoiding. There's something else."
You shake your head with a dry laugh.
"Someone." He clarifies with a smile, as if he's gradually working out a puzzle and has connected a piece.
"Wrong." You quickly deny, looking back down at your work.
"Is it your mother?"
"No."
"Brother?"
"Nope."
He lets out a teasingly chuckle, wagging a finger at you. "It's a boyfriend. Isn't it?"
You glance up, giving him a sly smirk. "Oh, you wish I had a boyfriend, Emilian. But you and I both know I'm in a committed relationship to this lovely job."
That makes him burst out laughing. His lean body actually sways in his seat, bringing a genuine smile to your face as you watch him enjoy your joke. He eventually calms back down, still giving you a toothy grin. "Oh, honey, you don't know how badly I wish that wasn't true."
You fold your hands and rest your chin on them. "I told you, Emilian. There's no one I'm running from. No one that I'm avoiding. No thing either. I just seriously have so much stuff that I need to get done in order to keep everything running smoothly here and government officials off our backs."
"Then go to back to your barracks. Eat something. And go to sleep. Come back here tomorrow and finish it up." He says, meeting your eyes. His voice is a bit more serious and lower now that the air between the two of you has been cleared. "I'm serious. There's not a damn thing in this room worth killing yourself over. And you especially shouldn't do it for this job. Whatever you still have to do can wait."
You let out a sigh and run your hands through your hair. "The Empire doesn't quite share that opinion." You quietly say, though even you can hear the exhaustion in your voice.
"Well, you'll be no use to them dead either. So they'll just have to take their paperwork a day late. And if they have a problem with it, I'll just tell them right where they can shove it."
That makes you chuckle.
He then stands up and walks to your side. "Now get up. Come on!"
You let out a playful groan then rise to your feet. He leads you to the door and then lightly shoves you in the direction of your barracks. "Now scram! And I don't want to see you back here for another six hours."
"Sir, yes, sir." You reply before mockingly saluting him. You walk through the painfully bright hallways, wondering if you'll even make it to your bed. You had no idea you were so worn out from the day.
When you finally do make it back to your barracks, you don't bother removing your uniform. You just bury yourself deep into your covers, finding security in the scratchy, dull sheets. Because at least they still hold a faint scent of his aftershave.
And as you drift off to sleep, you can't help but shed a few tears for the person that is truly causing you so much stress.
Wondering if he's alright.
Wherever he is.
~~~~~~~~~~