Chapter Text
Getting an invite to Dex’s from Skywalker surprised Rex. One, Rex had exactly zero credits to his name, and two, he had no idea what nat-born food tasted like. This was uncharted territory, but Skywalker had begged and pleaded and cried to him for hours.
“I don’t want to be an awkward third-wheel, Rex! They’re way more obvious than me and Padme. One time, I swear they were making out in the middle of the bridge!”
Rex scoffed when Skywalker compared his brother and General Kenobi to him and Padme. If there was any couple in the GAR, it was Skywalker and Senator Amidala. Their efforts to hide their relationships only made it appear more evident.
“Calm down, General. I’ll join.”
“Thank the force, Rex. You’re the best. Oh, also! When we get there, can you please remind me to tell Obi-Wan that the shipment of tea got sent to my quarters by accident? I can’t comm him because, technically, he’s not even supposed to have it. Life of a Jedi and all.”
Now, standing outside Dex’s in civvies from Echo that are a size too small and wash-worn so that the original black shirt is nearly white, Rex curses beneath his breath. General Skywalker was approaching from the opposite direction, but he wasn’t alone. Kriffing backstabber. Senator Amidala is walking alongside him. As usual, she looks radiant, carrying herself with a smile bright enough to blind a room full of prickly Senators and a mind as sharp as any jetii lightsaber.
“Rex,” Skywalker yells from approximately too far. “You came!”
Rex sways on the balls of his feet. “You asked me to, Sir. I hope I won’t be too much of an appendage this evening. Given present company.”
Anakin looks like he’s been given a test on Alderaanian parenting techniques. Which is to say, he’s absolutely clueless. “Rex, I’m just glad you came! It would’ve been so awkward just the four of us!” He nudges Senator Amidala in the side. “You know how they are, Padme!”
Senator Amidala sighs. “Oh, Anakin, I know all too well.” She turns to address Rex. “I’m sure it’ll be a lovely dinner, Captain. Have you dined at Dex’s before?”
Thankful for the shift in conversation, he replies, “No, ma’am. I have to confess, I haven’t tried nat-born food before. I hope that’s not an issue.”
“Of course not, Captain. The more the merrier! Plus, I’m sure Anakin would love to introduce you to his favorites.”
Beside her, Anakin nods. “The first time I was here, I didn’t know much either. Obi-Wan introduced me to Dex’s when I was a Padawan. We didn’t exactly eat Nerf burgers and panna cakes on Tatooine.”
Feeling more sure of himself, he follows the pair into the restaurant. It’s not late yet, so Rex assumes that the regulars haven’t arrived. Empty red booths line the walls, and a waitress droid is zipping back and forth between the only occupied booth, where a rather large family of Rodians is having what appears to be a feast, and the kitchen.
“Huh,” says Skywalker. “Obi-Wan’s never late. I wonder what’s wrong?” He double-checks the time on his comms: 1815. They’re a full fifteen minutes later than expected, and still, no Obi-Wan or Cody.
“I’m sure they’re perfectly alright, sir.”
General Skywalker laughs. “I’m sure they’re fine. I just hope whoever they ran into is prepared to face Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi when he has a time crunch.”
While they’re idling near the front of the restaurant, a large Besalisk arrives to greet them.
“Anakin Skywalker, as I live and breathe,” he chortles. “When was the last time I saw you? You must’ve been only about yea’ high.” The Besalisk raises one of his hands to around waist height, and Rex stifles the urge to giggle when imagining a little General Skywalker.
Skywalker smiles and goes a little red in the face. “Come on, Dex! I wasn’t that small.” The General takes his own hand and places it a couple of inches above the Besalisk’s. “This is more accurate.”
This seems to please the Besalisk, Dex, greatly, and he breaks out into a full-bodied guffaw. “You were always a funny one! Now, let’s get you three seated.”
“Five, actually,” Senator Amidala interrupts. “Obi-Wan and his Commander are supposed to be joining us shortly.”
“My most loyal customers,” Dex inputs. “Every time they’re on Coruscant, they come to see me. A couple of peas in a pod, those two. I can’t hardly ever get them to take their eyes off each other.”
Skywalker turns around and shoots Rex a smug look as they settle into their booth.
“Well, I’ll give you three a chance to look over the menu while you wait for your friends.” The waitress droid zooms over to the booth and deposits three pieces of worn flimsi onto the table. Looking at Rex, he says, “Have you ever been to a restaurant, soldier?” When Rex shakes his head, the Besalisk smiles and claps him on the back. “It’s always exciting when the Jedi bring in their units. You clones always have the best reactions. When Obi-Wan first brought his Commander in, I thought surely he was having an episode, but no, he just enjoyed the food so much that it brought tears to his eyes.”
Rex grins at that. He would be teasing Cody about that, later. If he was feeling extra mean, he might even send it to the Command Batch.
He thanks Dex, and the three of them peruse the menu, waiting for their companions. Rex and Anakin sit on one side of the booth, while Senator Amidala occupies the other. However, Rex is about 95% sure that Skywalker is playing footsies with her underneath the table, and sitting on opposite sides was his genius plan to fool the public about their relationship.
Anakin breaks the comfortable silence. “I think I’ll have the blue milkshake. What do you think Padme?”
She smiles at him from across the table. “You always get the blue milkshake, Anakin.”
Rex is about to ask what a blue milkshake is when the doorbell rings to alert them that someone has entered the restaurant.
His brother and General Kenobi walk to their booth, waving a quick hello to Dex on the way. Kenobi is dressed up in his typical robes while Cody has donned the most Cody civvies Rex has ever seen, a dark blue turtleneck sweater and black slacks. “Apologies everyone,” Kenobi says, “We got held up. Oh, Rex! I assume Anakin invited you. It’s about time. The food here is simply divine.”
Cody’s eyes widen from behind the General as he notices Rex sitting in the booth.
Kenobi begins to slide into the booth next to Senator Amidala, which leaves Rex’s brother in a predicament. Senator Amidala, considerate as ever, seems to catch on and begins to stand up so they might rearrange themselves. They end up sitting three on one side of the booth, Rex, Cody, and Obi-Wan in that order, two on the other, Skywalker and the Senator. Rex is visibly squished up against the wall, but at least Skywalker and Padme seem happy.
“Well, Obi-Wan,” Anakin begins, “What kept you two?”
General Kenobi looks a little offended at the accusation. “I’m not sure what you mean, Anakin. Cody and I arrived right on time: 1830.”
“No, you told us 1800. I know it. I’ll even show you the comm message.”
“Precisely, Anakin.”
Cody smirks at Skywalker with the same smug look that Skywalker had flashed Rex minutes earlier, and the realization dawns on Rex. That kriffing jetii .
“Master,” Anakin says, “I don’t understand. If you told us to come at 1800, why didn’t you get here at 1800.”
“Anakin, what time did you arrive?”
“Just after 1800?”
General Kenobi turns to Rex. “Captain Rex, what time did you three get here?”
Rex flushes from the attention. “Approximately 1815, General.”
“My point is made, Anakin.”
Skywalker is still confused. Senator Amidala, bless her soul, starts to whisper-explain into the General’s ear. His face gets progressively more red and angry as she continues to talk.
“Obi-Wan!”
General Kenobi sighs with all the exasperation of a weary parent. “Yes, Anakin.”
“You, you,” Skywalker groans in frustration. “Gahh! I can’t believe you!”
No one talks until the waitress droid comes to take their orders. The other four seem to immediately know what they want, leaving Rex to fend for himself. Cody senses this, and he points at something on the menu for him to order. “I’ll have the Khomm sliders, please.” He sends Cody his silent thanks.
“A good choice, Captain,” Kenobi says, “The sliders are always cooked to perfection.”
“I’m not too sure what a slider is, Sir,” Rex admits, “But I’m sure it’ll be delicious.”
Kenobi beams.
“Rex, the first time I was here, I was so confused. I tried to take a bite out of the napkin. But trust me, it’s so much better than the ration bars they give us in the GAR.” His brother is so different here, comfortable. Rex wonders how many times he and his General have been here.
“It was quite amusing, my dear.” Kenobi is still smiling; he nudges Cody in the arm in jest. When Cody responds with an annoyed look and then proceeds to nudge Kenobi in the side with even more mirth, Skywalker starts making obnoxious gagging noises.
“Master,” he wails, “We are trying to have dinner!”
“Anakin! I am hardly scandalizing you.”
General Skywalker covers his eyes with his hands in mock horror. “Please, Master. Spare me from your horrible attempts at flirtation!”
Kenobi scoffs and tuts at General Skywalker. “I was not flirting with my dear Commander. If I was, it would be better than a simple nudge, Anakin. We were simply enjoying ourselves.”
Skywalker mutters something under his breath that Rex thinks sounds a little like, “But when I do it, it’s the end of the world.”
Cody’s fun demeanor shifts into a more serious tone at the jest. This is Marshall Commander Cody of the 7th Sky rather than Kote , Rex’s ori’vod . General Kenobi tries to put a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs it away, obviously uncomfortable at the implications.
They pass the time in relative peace until the food arrives, avoiding conversation topics that deal with the two very obvious, very secret relationships at the table. Blue milkshakes have managed to sneak their way onto everyone’s plate, except for Rex’s. When the plate with his sliders is shoved onto the table, his mouth drops open in shock. It smells delightful.
“One order of Khomm sliders for our friend,” Dex says. “Obi-Wan, Commander, how nice of you to show up. Skywalker seemed worried.”
Kenobi chuckles. “Oh, yes. Anakin thought I’d been caught in some firefight.” Anakin shoots Obi-Wan a look as if to say nuh-uh.
“Commander, how are you faring? The war seems to be picking up as of late.”
Cody nods his head. “The 212th is as successful as ever. Thanks, for the most part, to our illustrious General. However, you’re right, Dex. The war seems to be getting more intense. The battles are never clean like they used to be. We’ve lost a lot of good men to the Separatists. I hope that means it’s waning, but I can’t say anything for sure.”
The Besalisk nods his head solemnly. “I’m sorry for your losses. I know a good amount of clones that come in on leave. They’re good men.”
“Brothers.” Rex interrupts.
“My mistake,” Dex pauses, searching for an appropriate title.
“Captain Rex,” he supplies, “501st.”
“My mistake, Captain,” the Besalisk corrects, “Your brothers are always nothing more than wonderful when they visit. I’m honored to be serving them good food.”
“No harm done, Dex. I’m just happy to know someone appreciates our work in the war.” Rex smiles, something he finds himself doing less and less of these days.
Dex grins. “Well, I’ll leave you five to your dinner. Consider it on the house.”
When Obi-Wan begins to protest, he hears Anakin kick him underneath the table, and the conversation is settled.
The food is the most delicious thing Rex has ever eaten. It’s greasy and warm and full of flavor. Unfortunately, he doesn’t manage to escape embarrassment when he lets a moan of delight escape his mouth.
“It’s good, vod .” He nods his head at Cody, who is deep in a conversation with General Kenobi. Looking down, he realizes that he should be way more squished against the wall than he actually feels. The two of them, Cody and Kenobi, are practically sitting in each other's laps. Cody’s leg is draped over Kenobi’s, and Rex can imagine that they are intertwined beneath the table. General Kenobi has his hand on his brother’s thigh, high enough that it rules out normal physical contact between friends. Rex squirms at the implications, but he doesn’t say anything. He returns his gaze to the table and continues eating his sliders. He’s happy for his brother. If that means ignoring his obviously reciprocated affection for his General, he’s fine with it.
“Rex, you should try this,” Skywalker gestures to his blue milkshake. He slides the shake across the table. It’s the color of the 501st’s armor and frothy in an extremely appetizing way.
Rex gently sips the milkshake, and it’s even better than he imagined. The sweet sugary taste of the Bantha milk coats his tongue. “Wow. General, you weren’t kidding when you said this was good.”
Once again, Rex finds himself face-to-face with a brick wall. Senator Amidala and Skywalker are sharing her milkshake, looking at each other like it’s the end of the world. Their hands are on the table, closer than the hairs on Rex’s head.
“Oh, Rex, save me from being a third wheel,” Rex mutters to himself, “You need to come. I’ll be all alone.” He’s happy for his brother and his General. Really, he is. He couldn’t imagine going through this war without them, but sitting in Dex’s surrounded by people obviously very in love, he wishes they were a little more self-aware.