#foxquinweek2023

[nhyhu]

Day 2 of @foxquinweek with the prompt dance with me!!

I love the image of quinlan spontaneously dragging fox into a dance haha

[ninjigma]

QuinFox Week Part 4/7 - First / Previous / Next

Day 4: Keeping the Other Alive + Fox find's Quin's Lightsaber Track: 'Escape From East Berlin' - Daniel Pemberton (Spotify / YouTube)

"You have to stay with me Vos, come on!"

He really was trying, promise.

"I know, just... focus on keeping up. I'll do the rest, okay?"

Quinlan took a slow breath, focusing on just putting one fast-paced foot in front of the other. His awareness was muted in his attempt to mask his pain, and at this point, all the energy he had was being expended in keeping ahead of whatever droids were left on their tail.

Suddenly he was being hauled up and forward, aware of the ladder only when its rungs were suddenly beneath his hands.

"Up!" Fox barked, shots ringing out after his words. 

Quinlan obeyed the sharp order without hesitation. He was around three floors up when his awareness flared and he wrenched backward, a hand flailing wildly as he lost his hold on the wet durasteel. A new slew of blaster fire came from the end of the alleyway, backup arriving and causing further chaos. Moving purely on instinct he reached for where his saber was clipped to his belt-

And found nothing.

The sound of his saber igniting drew his gaze downward, the green flashing and lighting up across the red of Fox's armor. The clone must have picked it up earlier when Quinlan had nearly collapsed, no time to do much more than grab the saber in one hand and pull Quinlan back to his feet with the other. Now Fox was moving with deadly accuracy, cloak fanning out around him, and Quinlan noted how even without Force sensitivity Fox was plenty skilled with the blade. He was precise and sly in his movements, expertly incorporating the blaster to dispatch another droid with a bullseye to the head, the sight inspiring some rather unique feelings in the base of Quinlan’s stomach.

"I said up Vos!"

Right, he was supposed to be climbing. Without another thought he continued moving, easily trusting Fox to cover him. That simple piece of knowledge that Fox was with him was enough to assure him they had a chance in all of this mess, was enough to motivate him forward.

He made it to the roof without further incident, slipping over the edge and sliding across the wet surface. The way it momentarily muffled the sound of the alleyway and how the rain thrummed against Quinlan's skin brought the Jedi a moment's respite, a second of clarity in the fog where he tried to parse out what they needed to do next.

He wasn't dead, not yet anyhow. But now they were on a rooftop and rather exposed to any air support the Separatists may have in the area. They needed cover, Quinlan needed medical attention, and most of all they had to get back to the ship and out of this damned sector.

All too soon Fox was joining him, Quinlan only having a few moments to breathe before Fox had grabbed his hand and yanked them both across slick metal and tile. Fox was still holding his saber, playing their escape purely on the defensive, and Quinlan was again truly impressed with how well Fox was handling the blade, continuous sweeps that blocked blaster bolts out of the sheer speed of the weapon's arc. 

Though Quinlan knew this wouldn't last long. Already he could see the end of the street coming up with a gap they definitely couldn't jump across. Fox had been guiding them as best he could, but they would be stuck with nowhere to go now, and would end up surrounded and outnumbered in seconds. They wouldn’t last long.

Unless...

Fox had begun to slow, head whipping around in search of some way out of this besides fighting straight back through the droids. Thus he was a bit surprised when Quinlan somehow found an extra burst of speed and began pulling Fox along after him instead.

Fox wasn’t dying like this, for something Quinlan had done, not while he was still drawing air.

"General?!" Quinlan managed a rather unhinged smile at the surprise in Fox's tone, though the commander followed without any other complaint. If anything he sped up, keeping pace directly toward the edge of the building, even when it became clear that was exactly what Quinlan was aiming for.

Trust me.

It may have been a trick of his mind, his single focus on getting them both out of this alive, but Quinlan could swear Fox squeezed his hand before leaping off that roof with him.

Always.

The feeling of free falling wasn’t unknown to Quinlan, but the struggle not to succumb to dizziness as he stretched out a hand and slowed them was an interesting first. He gave all of his attention to the presence of Fox, adding it to his own awareness and willing the Force up to meet them. In a rather graceless move the Force answered, just before they reached the street, and they were suspended perfectly in the air a moment before falling the last foot to safety. 

Quinlan staggered, would’ve fallen if not for Fox immediately tucking into his side and pushing them ever onward. Now the Jedi really was stumbling, his energy burning up faster than he could think.

Then they were stopped, hands were on his shoulders. Black spots dotted his vision, but things were quiet finally and Quinlan could swear he wasn’t standing any longer. All that really mattered was how he could still sense Fox, reaching out and focusing on that steady and clever soul in order to find the motivation to keep moving. 

Well, they must be safe if Fox had stopped them, had begun pressing something against where Quinlan knew his shoulder should hurt but only felt the dull sensation of Fox’s hands.

He always thought Fox had nice hands, strong and sleek with a small scar on his right palm.

Maybe Fox would let him kiss it, just once.

“Don’t- Quinlan!”

[lbibliophile-sw]

Uncovering Corruption

For a long moment Fox and Quinlan just look at each other.

“‘Sith Lord’ wasn’t on your list of potential crimes when you asked me to help investigate.”

“I was expecting him to be morally and financially corrupt, not spiritually.”

“That describes almost three quarters of the Senate.”

“Hence why I needed more evidence. I don’t suppose the Sith thing helps?”

“Well, it does make it Jedi jurisdiction. Which, with a bit of fast talking, should get us off the hook for murder.”

They finally acknowledge the Supreme Chancellor, lying on his office floor in several smoking pieces.

“Useful, that."

---

Also on AO3

For @foxquinweek - day 4 (altprompt 10): Fox kills Palpatine

[foxquinweek]

FoxQuin Week 2023 Fic Masterlist

Here's a list of all fanfics written for FoxQuin week. If there was a link to a work on AO3 I linked to there rather than Tumblr. Life's been a lot lately so I wasn't as thorough as I wanted to be on making sure this list was good. So please let me know if there's any problems or if I should change something. REMINDER: If you do write a fic with the prompts from the 2023 list in mind, do tag this blog or otherwise let me know, and I'll make sure it makes it here. Okay that's a lot of words before the actual list, so here it is!

Day 1, "Please don't take him from me"

One Last Moment by ninjigma

If I can't hold on by ouzoathena11

The Stars Aren't on Your Side by Legogirl22

Fic by 2amcheese

Day 2, Coruscant Guard General

Unspoken by LBibliophile

Feet Are Heavier than the Ground by Legogirl22

Voices in my Head by ouzoathena11

Day 3, Good Bye Message

The Toxic Thoughts of an Overachiever by Legogirl22

Final Goodbyes by coruscantguard

One Last Moment ch.3 by ninjigma

Now it's never too late by ouzoathena11

Through it all hold my hand by CmdrFoxsDriver

Day 4, Emperor Fox/Pet Jetii AU

A World Away by onionofmodesty

Day 5, Battle Couple

Rituals in You and Me by CmdrFoxsDriver

The Ending Changes Everything by ouzoathena11

One Last Moment ch. 5 by ninjigma

Day 6, Psychometry

The Thought that Counts by LBibliophile

I Can't Make Something Pretty When Everybody's Listening by Legogirl22

Feel my Love by CmdrFoxsDriver

Just out of reach by ouzoathena11

The Future's Up For Grabs by coruscantguard

One Last Moment ch. 6 by ninjigma

Day 7, Mistaken Identity

Better than Paperwork by LBibliophile

Distrust and Pain by ouzoathena11

Alternate prompts

Taungsday Blues by coruscantguard; Prompt: Groundhog Day

Say Yes to the Jedi by CmdrFoxsDriver; Prompt: First Date

One Last Moment ch2 by ninjigma; Prompt: First Date

Good Defenses by coruscantguard; Prompt: Fox kills Palpatine

Waking Up by LBibliophile; Prompt: Groundhog Day

You Cannot Hide the Darkness by Legogirl22; Prompt: Fix it

Uncovering Corruption by LBibliophile; Prompt: Fox kills Palpatine

First dates and secrets by ouzoathena11; Prompt: Royal AU

Finding Meaning by LBibliophile; Prompt: Fix it

In the Castle of Your Death by Legogirl22; Prompt: Fox kills Palpatine

Making a Happy Ending by 2amcheese; Prompt: Fox kills Palpatine

My Dreams Are of a Different Kind by Legogirl22; Prompt: First Date

Avoidance by LBibliophile: Prompt: Spicy

The End (Or the beginning?) by coruscantguard; Prompt: Fix it

One Last Moment ch.4 by ninjigma; Prompt: Fox finds Quin's lightsaber

One Last Moment ch.7 by ninjigma; Prompt: Fix it

[onion-of-modesty]

A World Away

Read on AO3

Summary: Is it time to eat or is it time to eat. Also affection.

Words: 552

Warnings: None

Event: FoxQuin Week 2023

Day #3   @foxquinweek

Prompts: Life After War | Emperor Fox/Pet Jedi AU

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

    "The tubers are nearly done. Did you grab the plates already?" Fox asks over his shoulder. The tubers sizzling as he stirred them around the pan.

    "I even grabbed the ones without the crack," Quinlan answers from where he is setting things down on their table.

    "Forks?"

    "Yep."

    "Cups?"

    "Already filled."

    "The salad?"

    "Getting it now," Quinlan says, strolling back to the kitchenette. He steps past the bowl of salad and leans onto the counter next to Fox.

    "You know maybe I should let you order me around more regularly, Commander. Keep you in practice. Can't let you get too easily run over by your men when you get back." 

    The smirk in Quinlan's voice was more than enough to tell Fox where his thoughts were going.

    Considering that he has the option to eat a non-ration dinner warm, Fox knows he can't let Quinlan get going. Particularly now that he finally learned how to cook himself.

    "Head out of the gutter Quin," Fox chides him, "I don't want to eat this reheated after sundown. Besides," He huffs out with a smile, "since when do you follow instructions as given?"

    "Don't worry I know your cooking is already so much better than mine," Quinlan assures him leaning a little further over the counter and into the corner of Fox's vision.

    A coy look starts to grow on Quinlan's face as he opens mouth, "Honestly, if you had took the rank of emperor after unseating Palps from his almighty throne I would have to listen properly."

    Fox glances over to Quinlan with a raised eyebrow. "If I wanted that I would have backdated some paperwork and claimed that bastard's position when I took him out."

    Quin watches Fox cook with a thoughtful look on his face.

    "I know you don't want anything to do with the Senate anymore, but if you'd been in charge you would have been real good at it. Especially at making the Senate more effective." Quinlan compliments him. "You've mentioned some plans before."

    "I have."

    Fox stirs the tubers around the pan one last time before shutting off the heating element. Lifting the pan he carries it over to the table and transfers the contents into a prepared serving dish.

    Setting the now empty pan back down into the sink Fox turns to Quinlan and reaches out to him. 

    Quinlan straightens up and steps into Fox's space letting Fox settle his hands on his waist.

    "The Vod still want me to be an advisor to whoever the representative ends up being," Fox reminds Quinlan. "So some of them may be implemented in one way or another."

    Quinlan gently backs Fox into the table behind him before reaching his arms around Fox's neck.

    Fox in turn rubs his thumbs into Quinlan's hips, leaning back a bit to observe Quinlan's face.

    "And if you remember I would have taken over while the Jedi were still being considered enemies of the state. Just what would your position have been under me if you would be around to listen to orders?"

    Quinlan's face becomes down right lewd as he leans within a breath of Fox's face and wiggles his eyebrows, looking more than a little ridiculous, suggesting, "You could have kept me as your pet Jedi."

    Fox threw his head back and laughed.

[oathena11-writes]

My last fic for @foxquinweek ! I combined the day 7 prompt mistaken identity with the alternate prompt migraines/chronic pain.

This has been a fun week and I’m excited by all the new fics to read!

[2amcheese]

FoxQuin Fic

Not made for the week specifically but around that time so I'm submitting it anyway @foxquinweek

8,500 words TW: slightly suggestive content, major character injury

Prologue:

The first time Fox was assigned to work with Quinlan Vos, he had been skeptical.

He had never known any Jedi personally. They tended to keep to themselves on Coruscant, and while a couple of his brothers had built close bonds with their jedi generals (specifically Cody. Incredibly close bond. Fox tried to stay out of any gossip unrelated to the war, but he had his suspicions), the Coruscant Guard didn’t have a Jedi General, so he didn’t have consistent contact with one. 

That changed the day he met Jedi Shadow General Quinlan Vos.

Known for being an excellent undercover agent, the Jedi had been preparing for his next mission when Fox had been assigned to handle a separatist ship that had made it past the Republic blockade. This would be his men’s first real battle–and hopefully their last. They acted as a police force, not a full battalion for regular shootout battles. Hopefully their ships would shore up their defenses after this.

Quinlan had been told to go with them. Well, he had demanded it himself, citing boredom. Apparently researching local customs and politics on his next planet was boring. Fox had met the jedi earlier in the day. They’d shook hands and introduced themselves, went over tactics–pretty basic, the seppies had landed in an airfield area so as to have more room, so they were going to pick them off from a distance as much as they could before engaging. 

Vos agreed with the plan, seeming to be excited. Now they were on their way to the battle field, standing in one of the LAATs. 

“So, Commander.” Vos said. “You get out much?”

“No. I work here on Coruscant.”

“Sounds dull.”

“Occasionally.”

“Not very talkative, huh.”

“Have you said something deserving of my energy?”

“Goddamn! There we go, some personality!”

“Most people just call it sarcasm. Sir.”

“Quinlan is fine.”

“Not going to happen, General Vos.”

“Someday, Fox. Someday.”

“I doubt we’ll be talking much after this.”

“Cold. You must be a real pleasure at parties.” 

Thire butted in. “We threw one once. Tried to keep a secret from him, but he found out when no one came to yell at him to go to sleep. He walked in, looked around for a minute to take in the scene, grabbed a bottle of the strongest whiskey we had and left.”

Vos whistled. “My kind of man!”

They were wearing their helmets, but Fox had perfected the Disdainful Head Tilt years ago. “It was late. I did not want to deal with your o’sik.”

“Is that–Mandalorian?”

“It’s Mando’a for shit. Jango, our genetic base, was mandalorian, we use it sometimes. Not for battle commands though.” 

“Huh, cool. I’m multilingual, but I don’t know Mando’a. Maybe it’ll be my next language.”

Fox didn’t reply, keeping his eyes ahead of them. “We’re approaching. Get ready.” The ship dropped them off on the edge of the rest of the city. His men immediately began evacuating the civilians while they set up cannons and blasters. His snipers took the higher positions and heavy artillery the lower. Everyone was setting up perfectly. Fox couldn’t help feeling a spark of pride for his men. If all the battalions were like the Guard, the war should be over quickly. 

[cut to the 501st having a Who Can Punch the Most Droids? Competition]

“How long until we can charge?” General Vos asked Fox, surveying the men around him.

“The goal is not to. A lot of my men would die. My guess would be an hour or two. Only one ship got by, so there aren’t that many. We can get the B1s and B2s–the most basic ones, two-legged for some reason–with this strategy. If there are any droidekas we’ll be in trouble. Not much we can do about those without getting closer. We can rough up the ground near them, but they’re three legged, and can get across rough ground much easier.”

“Leave them to me then,” Vos suggested. 

“Bad idea. At least wait until we all go out.”

“You just said that they’ll shoot at your men without stopping. I can risk a little to get them down as long as you guys cover me from above.”

“You realize most of them will be shooting at you.”

“That’s what the lightsaber’s for, Commander.” The general winked. “I got this. Assuming they even have them.”

“I’ll attend your funeral,” Fox said drily, and turned to watch the droids advance.

They waited until they stood a reasonable chance of being accurate, and all the civilians had been evacuated, before Fox spoke calmly into the internal comm, “Fire.”

“Don’t people usually shout that command?” Vos inquired.

“Do you think my men would appreciate me shouting something in their ears that would be just as easy to say in a normal voice? Shouting is for the midst of battle.”

Vos nodded and turned towards the battle.

An hour later, droid corpses riddled the ground in front of the opposing army, and almost all of Fox’s heavy machinery was down. The separatist army continued to advance, and Fox could see droidekas rolling along the sides of the army. It was almost time to meet them head-on.

“General Vos,” Fox said, getting the Jedi's attention.

“Quinlan,” Vos suggested. First names were never going to happen. 

“We have droidekas on their way. Looks like three on each side. You want to handle them, or was that all false bravado?”

“I’ll take out the three on one side now, and the rest when we do the full frontal. Just get your men to cover me.”

“Yes sir.”

Fox watched Vos jump down the battlements, in leaps that would definitely break his legs. Some Jedi power no doubt.

Fox turned on his internal comm. “The general is going down to deal with the right droidekas,” he said. “When they see him, give him some cover fire. Everyone not actively shooting prepare to move out.”

He saw his men comply with his commands easily. Fox pulled out his macrobinoculars to watch the General, he had to admit he was curious as to his battle capabilities. Even the most skilled jedi could have difficulties with droidekas. 

Vos had veered wide to the side, and was creeping up towards them. No one seemed to have noticed him yet, even as he grew closer, which was made understandable by the fact that Fox’s eyes kept sliding past him. Some sort of force camo layer made him stand out less. He got all the way up to the outermost droideka, which noticed him just as he walked through its shield. Vos cut off its head before it had time to react, but every nearby droid noticed him as well.

The jedi deflected a few bolts before doing a high backflip backward, making it harder to hit him. Fox’s men were laying down cover, just as promised. Vos was deflecting and dodging many bolts as it was, he was lucky to have not been hit yet. He flung out a hand and seemed to yank one of the droidekas closer to him, a move that seemed foolish at first, but the point became clear immediately: the other droid’s blasts were only hitting the droideka’s shield. Vos held a detonator in one hand, and as he deflected bolts from the droideka right in front of him, he let the detonator go and used his Jedi power to move it in a straight line for the second one. Before long it was inside its shields. Fox realized again that droids really weren’t smart; any one of his men would have known to get away from that, but the droid didn’t seem to analyze it as a threat. 

The bomb detonated, destroying the second droideka.

With that done, Vos walked through the last shield and lopped off its blasters, then its central processing unit, and then threw it into the nearest battle droids as he ran back to cover.

Fox was deeply impressed. 

He had managed to sneak up to them unnoticed, develop a successful strategy, and deflect countless blaster bolts while executing the whole thing. Fox knew, of course, that the last was a big part of training for Jedi, as they liked to focus on defensive tactics, but had still been so many he didn’t know how he’d managed to catch them all on his blade. 

Fox ordered his men to start forming a real marching force, and headed down to the left flank where he met Vos. “Shouldn’t you have the right flank if I have the left?” the jedi asked. “Not that I object to your presence,” he added with a wink. Fox kept his face stony under his helmet.

“You’ll be distracted by the droidekas. Thorn and Thire have the right.” 

“You’re the boss!” 

Mostly Fox wanted to see how Vos would deal with these droidekas, and to back him up himself if he needed it. Fox had always loved watching a good fight. He blamed Jango. 

By then there weren’t an overwhelming amount of droids left, but they needed to prevent them from entering the rest of the city area, and this was the easiest way to do that.

“Attention!” Fox called into his internal comm. “And…March!” Everyone lifted on their right leg and stepped with their left in unison, except for General Vos, who walked out of time next to Fox.

They approached the army quickly, and when Fox judged the time was right, he spoke into the comms, “Fire.”

“I’m going to go deal with the droidekas,” Vos said, then made a giant leap over most of Fox’s men. Fox growled and jogged after him, his troops parting neatly for him.

By the time he got to the edge and could actually see the Jedi, one droid lay in a twitching heap on the ground, and Vos was using the other two as a shield against the lesser droids. Fox got as close as he could, trying to avoid getting shot. He pulled out a taser detonator and threw it underhand at one of the bots. He had gotten the velocity just right, and it slowed in time to roll carefully through the droid’s shield before detonating, leaving Vos with one. 

The jedi was concentrated in not dying, his face the most serious Fox had ever seen him in their brief time of knowing each other. Vos gave him a quick nod, the lack of the second droideka allowing him to focus on lifting the last one up with the force. It wasn’t firing, Fox guessed that it couldn’t. Vos was glowering up at it, and brought a second hand up. He concentrated for a moment, then tore it in half. The shield flickered out, and Vos cast it away into the crowd of droids, which was thinning by the minute. 

“Surround the remaining droids!” Fox shouted into his mic. “E-C command two!”

His sargents all called affirmatives and directed the Guard into the formation he had requested, wrapping around the droids to surround them. Fox followed Vos around to the back, downing droids easily with his dual blasters. Vos force-leaped to the center, where all the droids were being herded, re-ignited his lightsaber, and attacked with a new fervor. 

This time instead of the angry, concentrated expression from earlier, Vos was grinning as he whirled around, deflecting bolts back into droids, cutting heads off, and flipping around.

It wasn’t long before they had defeated every droid in the army. 

“And that’s a wrap!” Vos said, standing in the middle of the circle of dismembered droids. “Let’s go back, I’m hungry.” 

Fox’s troopers roared their assent, and they all traipsed back to collect their stuff from their temporary base. 

“You did well,” Fox said to Vos as they rode back to the Coruscant capital. 

“That’s a very good compliment,” Thire stage-whispered to Vos.

“Thanks, commander. I haven’t really gotten to do that, y'know, I’m a Shadow so I mostly specialize in covert missions.”

“It doesn’t show.” And that was enough complimenting the man. He already seemed to have an inflated ego.

“Well, of course! I’m incredible.” There it was. “In wars, in training, in bed… I’ve got it all, really.”

“Yes, you strike me as a professional sleeper,” Fox replied drily.

Vos gasped in overdramatic outrage. “How dare you! Your mother would say otherwise.”

There was a general snickering from around the ship.

“I wouldn’t say such things about Shaak-Ti if I were you,” Fox replied evenly, causing even more laughter as Vos went silent.

Fox allowed himself a small, private smile under his helmet. 

The next time he saw Vos, a couple weeks later the Jedi was lounging in his only chair. “Megs laam, jag?” he said. What’s up man?

Fox kept his face impassive. “Your pronunciation is o’sik. And how’d you get in here? I should arrest you for breaking and entering.”

“I have a particular propensity for getting into pretty men’s bedrooms,” Vos said with a wink. Fox was grateful for the helmet concealing his blush. “And I haven’t broken anything yet, so you can’t charge me for that. Also, I just started learning Mando’a recently, so give it a rest.”

“Hm,” Fox said. “Why’re you here?” 

“I was bored.” 

“I could always assign you a patrol with some of my men.”

“Only if you’re coming too, handsome.” Fox rolled his eyes.

“I have paperwork. You’ll have to live without me. Get out of my chair.”

“Just sit on my lap, Commander, I don’t mind.” 

Fox’s face grew redder under his helmet as he crossed his arms. “Move. Sir.”

“Quinlan.”

“No.”

Vos sighed and stood up, gesturing grandly to the chair. Fox eyed him warily, but sat down at the desk and started doing the work. 

Vos hung around for a while, generally being a nuisance, until he grew bored of it. “See you soon, Commander.” The stress on the last word turned it into something much more than a military title. 

“Kriffing Jetii,” Fox muttered. No one had ever flirted with him before. He could never admit he liked it.

Then next time General Vos dropped by to annoy him, there were two chairs in Fox’s office.

[months later]

Fox breathed in through his nose, and out through his mouth. Several times. His heart rate lowered. “Go. Away.” After a small pause he added, “Sir.”

“Absolutely not. I love seeing you this worked up,” Quinlan Vos said with a smirk, draped haphazardly across the second chair sitting in Fox’s office. For the third time this month.

How one assignment had turned into Quinlan dropping by every time he was on Coruscant, Fox had no idea. He complained about this frequently. He suspected that the Force had it out for him, especially since Vos had started having more and more assignments on Coruscant itself, trying to root out attacks on-planet. He was good at it too, and useful, but not at 22:48 at night. (10:48 if you don't want to bother)

In the privacy of his own mind, he didn’t entirely mind the visits. They broke up the monotony of Coruscantian life. Fox still didn’t enjoy the constant urging for him to go to sleep.

He ignored the obvious innuendo in favor of gritting his teeth and scrawling a messy signature at the bottom of a datapad. “Besides,” Vos continued, “who else could possibly annoy you into going to sleep? You’ve been working for far too long. Go to bed.” He snickered lowly. “I could join you…” 

Insufferable di’kuit. Anyone else who could never get away with that remark. Fortunately for Quinlan, they were friends. And had saved each other’s shebs a couple times. Not that Vos would ever know the respect Fox held for him, he’d never shut up about it. Fox had a reputation to maintain.

Fox took yet another deep breath and put down the datapad. “Do you get off on being an incredible annoyance, General?!” he snapped sarcastically, turning around in his chair. 

“Oh, I absolutely do,” Vos purred. “Go to sleep.” 

Fox crossed his arms. “The chancellor doesn’t pay me to do nothing,” he stated flatly.

“Our Esteemed and Holy Lord Sheev the Mighty Chancellor doesn’t pay you at all,” Vos reasoned, “but that’s a conversation for another night. I’m not kidding. Go to bed or you’ll be worthless in the morning.”

“Stop slandering the chancellor in my office.”

“What, you gonna turn me in?” Vos laughed lightly, rising and stalking over to Fox. “Unlikely.” His stupid pretty face held a challenge that Fox couldn’t help answering.

He stood up to meet Quinlan’s eyes. The action almost made him woozy. Fuck, he’d been sitting for longer than he’d thought. The general’s statements may have some merit, Fox admitted, but he’d never tell him that. 

He should invest in some platforms for his boots. He did not like the fact that Vos was taller than him.

“Go away,” he growled. Again. The jedi just grinned at him. 

“And leave you alone? You’d be so bored without me, Commander.” He stressed the last word as he liked to do, and Fox hated how he liked it. He hated Vos, he hated the war, and he hated his stupid traitorous heart, which couldn’t help but beat faster at the proximity of Vos’s face to his. Specifically, his lips.

“Believe me,” Fox said, glowering at the man, “I could find plenty of ways to entertain myself with you gone. Such as doing my kriffing work!” 

Vos sighed, and took a half-step back, his face turning serious. “We’ve been assigned to work together on a mission tomorrow. That’s why I’m here. Not just for your handsome face,” he said, adding the last part with a sly smile. “Someone’s trying to kidnap Amidala, again. I’m in with them, but the council wants me feeding information directly to you and your men to help stop them. Please go to sleep so you can actually be effective tomorrow.” He crossed his arms as well, mirroring Fox’s stance. “Good enough for you?” he asked, a challenging air emanating off him.

Fox considered this. “...Fine. For the sake of the mission. Not for you.” 

Quinlan’s usual good spirits returned immediately. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, sir,” he said with a wink, and then he was gone.

Fox pulled off his helmet and rubbed his face. Fuck. Now he had to deal with the flirtatious general all of tomorrow, too. 

He ignored the part of his brain celebrating it. He could never let the idiot Jedi know how well his innuendos worked on him. Wasn’t Fox’s fault Vos was hot as fuck.

Shit. He was in so much shit.

The next day he woke to curtains being thrown open. “Rise and shine, sleepy head!” a voice called, sounding suspiciously like a certain jedi Shadow. 

“Get out of my room!” Fox called back, blearily. He had been assigned quarters in the senate building to keep him as adjacent as possible. It worked for him, usually, but right now he wished he bunked with the other troopers in the barracks so he could have some backup. 

He slowly rose and then quickly pushed the general into his conjoining office and shut the door. He couldn’t let Vos find out his greatest secret: Fox was not a morning person.

He put on his armor as fast as he could, trying his best to ignore the general cacophony in the other room. As soon as he finished, helmet under his arm, he flung open the door (i am aware star wars uses clicky slidey doors. Fuck off.) and asked, “What the FUCK are you doing, Vos?” 

Vos grinned. “Got you breakfast!” he said. Indeed, there were two plates laden with scrambled eggs..sitting on his desk, which had previously been occupied by the many datapads which were now in a pile on the floor. 

Fox could easily get past his annoyance over the callous treatment of his possesions upon seeing any food that wasn’t fucking ration bars. “I’ll forgive you for now,” he said, hurrying over to the desk and wolfing down the food. 

“Damn,” Vos said, surprised. “Guess it’s true what they say. Quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

“Pretty easy when the man in question eats ration bars for breakfast lunch and dinner,” Fox said, around a mouthful of eggs. If he eats at all.

“No way. That must be a human rights violation of some sort,” Vos said, frowning. “I get it when you’re on missions and whatever but just sitting on Coruscant?”

“They don’t have the budget. It’s fine. Now, are you going to brief me on the mission details, or just sit there being useless?” 

“Anything for you, gorgeous,” Vos said with a wink, letting the previous conversation go and pulling up a document on his personal datapad.

“Comm check,” Fox murmured, checking that it was the right channel. 

“All good,” Vos replied. “As much as I’m sure you love hearing my voice–” “I don’t,” Fox cut in, “--don’t comm me unless it’s an absolute emergency or I tell you it’s safe.”

“Roger, sir. We’re in position.” Fox surveyed his men. They all held basic parade rest in the lowest levels of the senate, reportedly where the criminals were attempting their infiltration. The main goal was Padme Amidala–when was it not–but they’d be happy to bag any senator. They were planning to use some sort of new drill machine to get up through the floor.

“Heading toward the eastern quadrant as expected,” Vos said through the headset. Fox did not respond, but held his position. 

It was some time before he heard from him again. “Hallway G7,” Vos said, so quietly Fox could hardly hear him. 

“G7!” Fox barked out. “Let’s go!” Thorn directed the other 10 men–only so many could reasonably fit in the halls–as they marched quickly to set up the ambush. “Set blasters to stun, men,” he said grimly.

The hallway the perpetrators were going to use would lead into a square section with a four-way cross road. Fox had men outside the doors and in the two side passages, waiting for the enemy. 

Soon there was the faint sound of footsteps rapid against the ground. They stopped as they got almost within a good range. 

A shiny silver sphere flew into the room. 

“Get down!” Fox roared, hitting the deck immediately. 

But there was no explosion.

Not in that room, anyway. Fox’s stomach dropped to his feet when he heard the bomb go off in the hallway.

Abandoning all pretext of formality, he rose and sprinted to where Quinlan Vos lay in the middle of the hallway, groaning.

Quinlan POV [a few minutes ago]

Everything was going according to plan. They were in the eastern quadrant, creeping along the newly made tunnel. Judging by how they were going, they were going to reach the bottom of the senate building soon. 

And there it was, he was right, per usual. The criminal leader of this escapade, a rodian named Dolik pulled a vibroblade from his pocket and carefully cut out a hole. Quinlan had to admire his strategy; he cut most of the metal but not all, to ensure no one above could see. While everyone else focused on that, tense and ready to go, Quinlan hissed “G7” into the comm. Hopefully Fox would be ready with his men. The second in command busted into the hallway, quickly and ready to fight but still quietly. They really had planned this out well, Quin had to admit.

In the end it would come down to if he had planned better. 

The rest of the group went up through the hole. Quinlan mentally bemoaned the fact that he couldn’t force jump through the hole, and instead had to go to the disgusting trouble of clambering through. Baarsk, a trandoshan and his main contact within the group, clasped his hand to pull him up. “Thanks man,” he muttered.

And then the force tugged on him. Quinlan called up that pull, followed it…right to Fox. His heart hammered in his chest. Something was going to go wrong. 

He wove to the front of the group as they all ran down the hallway. Dolik abruptly stopped them just as Quin reached the front. He silently raised the tablet he’d been holding in front of him. A heat signature display clearly showed the clones in front of them.

Quin’s heart skipped a beat, and he barely had time to think before the rodian chucked a bomb into the upcoming chamber. 

Acting quickly, Quinlan broke out from the rest of the band, grabbed the detonator with the force, and yanked it behind him into the rest of the criminals. He was running toward Fox and the rest of them, but not fast enough–the bomb detonated somewhere between him and the band of bounty hunters. 

Quinlan felt himself fall to the floor. There was a loud ringing in his ears.

Fox POV

Fox fell to his knees next to Vos. “Vos! Sir! Are you okay?” The general stirred, groaning. “Call a medic!” Fox called to Thorn. Thorn nodded and barked out orders to the rest of the men. They were restraining the injured insurrectionists, whichever ones were alive. Fox didn’t care. 

“Sir. Can you speak?” There was shrapnel buried in his stomach. 

“Force,” Vos wheezed, “love it when you call me sir.”

Fox wanted to cry. “Fuck off,” he said, voice breaking. “We called a medic. You’ll be okay.” 

“Whatever you say, boss. Nice to know you care.” His voice was raspy. 

“Of course I care,” Fox said sternly. “Di’kuit. If you die I’ll never forgive you.”

“Everyone dies, Commander.”

“Fox.” 

Vos let out a rasping laugh. “Oh, now that I’m dying I can use your name.”

“You’re not going to die. You’re far too stubborn for that.”

“Not such a bad thing, Fox,” Vos said, his voice getting fainter. “Dying in the arms of a handsome soldier.”

“Don’t you dare pass out. Come on–Quinlan!” Fox ripped off his helmet. “Focus on me. Stay awake. Just until the medic gets here.”

“Aww, is this the first time you’ve called me by name?” Vos chuckled faintly, which turned into a cough. “Now I really can die in peace. Sorry babe, not sure this is something I can control.”  His eyes closed, but his chest still rose and fell, albeit faintly. “Sorry love,” he whispered. Fox stared at him. Of–of course he would do this. Only man alive who could flirt while dying. 

He shoved his bucket back on just in time for the medic to arrive. “Get him to the Halls of Healing!” Fox barked, standing up. “He’s a jedi, they’ll let you. Hurry up!” Vos was placed on a stretcher and rushed out. Fox fought the urge to race after them.

He took a couple seconds to collect himself before turning his attention to his men. Thorn put a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, vod,” he said quietly. “I know you were close.”

“He’s not dead yet.” Fox insisted doggedly. “If anyone can survive that, it’s him. He’s– he’s fucking impossible. Stubborn ass.” He took another deep breath. “Status?”

Thorn snapped to attention. “None injured save for the general. Out of the seven others, three survived. Leader Dolik is dead. Second in command is alive, with injuries. Both trandoshans are alive as well. All three are going to the prisoner infirmary, and then prison until the trial whereon they will likely be sentenced to life unless they cooperate with us, if so they may earn a lighter sentence.” He took a breath. “That’s all sir.” 

“Thank you. Go back to the barracks once the prisoners are secured. I’ll report the mission as successful.”

“Sir–Fox,” Thorn said gently, “if you want me to do the paperwork for this one, that’s okay. I can.”

“Thank you for the offer. That’d be appreciated.” 

Thorn clapped him on the shoulder. “Anytime, sir.”  

Fox stared at the place where Vos had lain for a couple more seconds before robotically moving with the rest of his men.

It wasn’t long before he found an excuse to fill out some reports, giving him time to himself. He decided to at the least try to get some work done, to distract himself, but it was of no use. He would have to go through the excruciating process of figuring out his feelings. And where he and Vos stood.

So he’d fallen for the man. It was time to come to terms with that. He was fucking insufferable, stubborn as all hell, and incredibly caring. And hot. Fox couldn’t help the way his heart beat faster at all his little comments and winks and smiles, and when it came down to it, he trusted Vos. With his life. Yes, despite how stupid reckless he was. 

The thought flooded him with anxiety, and he stood up and started pacing. Maybe he should head down to the training halls. 

He scrawled a short letter on a piece of paper before he could convince himself not to, and walked briskly down to the training halls. He encountered Thire on the way. “Could you take this to the Halls of Healing?” he asked brusquely. 

“Yes, sir!” Thire said, then eased a bit. “Who’s it for?” 

“General Vos. Got hurt on a mission today. This is a basic writeup on it, he might like my words better than whatever the nurses have.” It wasn’t a basic writeup, but that was none of Thire’s business. 

“He’s your friend, right? At least, he’s in your rooms often enough for it.”

Fox gave him a stern look that quelled whatever almost-invisible smile was lurking on Thire’s face. 

“Yes,” Fox said. “He continuously attempts to annoy me into going to bed.”

“Is he ever successful?”

“He is… incredibly stubborn,” Fox replied, avoiding the question. “And I don’t have military power over him to make him go away,” he tacked on hurriedly, seeing Thire’s face light up, “so don’t go getting any ideas.” 

“Well,” Thire said, the hint of a smirk evident on his face, “I guess if it doesn’t work when I do it, I’ll have to point him your way in the future.”

Fox cleared his face. “Assuming he lives,” he said in a clipped tone.

“If he’s even half as stubborn as you make him out to be, he’ll be fine,” Thire assured him. 

Fox nodded curtly. “See to it that letter is delivered. Unread.” 

Thire shot him a snappy salute. “Yes sir!” 

Fox shook his head as he walked away. His men meant well, but they were the prying sort. Not that he was really complaining. He debated if it would be worth it to issue a statement to the Guard that if they heard any news about General Vos they were to report to him immediately. He didn’t think they’d be too suspicious, by now the Guard had practically adopted him as their jedi. He helped a lot, being able to go easily undercover to root out bounty hunter and separatist plots. When he wasn’t offworld on crazy Jedi missions, of course, which was always a danger for the Jedi Shadow.

He approached the Training room with little tension. It was about the only place where rank didn’t really matter–he’d practice like anyone else, wait his turn in any lines, and no one had to stand on attention for him. It was almost relaxing.

If anything could be such while Quinlan was in the medbay.

One hardcore punching bag session later, and after a couple of spars with some of his better men, Fox was satisfactorily bruised and exhausted. By the time he got back to his room, he just wanted to stumble into bed. But then he might wake up well-rested and ready to face the day, and there was no way he was doing that. If he couldn’t think straight tomorrow then he wouldn’t have to deal with his thoughts! Ingenious. 

He stayed filling out reports and doing paperwork late into the night, until he fell asleep at the desk. He woke up halfway through the remaining nighttime, just long enough to move to the bed and pass out again. 

The next day wasn’t much better. He spent it in a blur of paperwork and training, and a meeting with the Chancellor that he barely remembered. Not that Palpatine would notice his distraction, the attention stance had been beaten into him at Kamino and Fox’s was immaculate. Between that and the helmet nobody noticed anything was off.

Good.

He also spent some time avoiding Thorn and Thire, who would definitely berate him for not sleeping. And being generally unhealthy. He’d barely eaten, the ration bars tasted like dust on his tongue.

Vos hadn’t died yet, that he was certain of. He would have been alerted if he had. Fox had smothered all sparks of hope at the thought; he still could die. Quinlan would contact him when he was well enough to. That could take a few weeks though, with the amount of shrapnel buried in his stomach. Blood loss, broken bones, serious burns, possibly a punctured lung or other organ…it was a miracle he had survived this long.

It was the next day that Fox was actually assigned to do something.

He got up sluggishly, ate half a ration bar, put on his armor and walked to the barracks. 

A squad was already waiting for him. It was just a routine sweep, reminding the citizens of Coruscant that they were protected and safe. It wasn’t entirely true, crime on coruscant was rampant and the guard couldn’t get everything, but appearances were important. 

They set off on their basic patrol, which took about four hours.

They were on their way back, three and a half hours later, when there was a shout from the back of the group. Fox whirled, blasters in hand, set to stun. Always to stun when dealing with civilians. 

One of his men lay on the ground, and a bunch of poorly armed civilians stood behind the group. “We’ve had enough of the senate’s playthings!” a woman, who seemed to be the leader, shouted. “Enough of the threats! Get out of our streets!” There was a general cacophony around her. Force damn it, Fox did not want to have to deal with another one of these. 

“Ma’am, I request that you step back and lay down your weapons. I have to bring you in for the assault of an officer, but if you stop now the sentence will be light and the rest of you will get off. If not, we will stun you and take you in anyway.”

Some of the group behind her shifted uneasily, but she responded boldly, “I will not lie down and watch the republic ruin our homes! We did not need you before the war, and even now we don’t need the show of arms in the streets! We need an end to the war, not a police force!” She raised her rolling pin into the air and her scions roared, and attacked. 

Fox sighed and let out several stun bolts, downing her and the other insurgents along with the rest of his squad. The trooper hit earlier was fine and had stood up already, just knocked down by her surprisingly heavy rolling pin.

They all picked up one of the citizens as they moved on, someone called for a transport but they didn’t want to just sit and wait. Anything to get home faster. If Fox hadn’t been so tired he might have chastised the men for cutting corners, but he desperately needed to pass out. 

For once his body seemed to agree with his brain, because he stumbled over a curb and almost fell. “You good sir?” Lock asked, noting the misstep. 

Fox could feel himself growing weary, but he responded in a barely-slurred “Eyes up front, trooper.” Lock complied. 

The prisoner transport would be here soon, and then he’d be fine. Probably. He felt the man he was carrying slip some and hauled him up. He could get through this. He was used to exhaustion. 

And now there was someone blocking their path. Fox did not have the energy to deal with this o’sik. 

“Where are you going with those people,” the person asked, legs spread wide in a defensive pose. 

“Arresting them for assault of officers.” 

They surveyed the set of clones. “You don’t look very assaulted.”

“They were unsuccessful.” Fox carefully set the man he was carrying down and showed the video of the protestors he had taken. He always took recordings of these encounters for this exact occasion. 

The person moved aside. “Fair trial will be given?”

“Every time.”

“Good.” Fox bent to pick the man back up, and found it very difficult. 

He managed to hoist him up, and another minute or two of walking, before he swayed and almost fell. He would have if not for Lock, who steadied him. “Sir. I think you need a break.”

“I think the damn prisoner transport needs to arrive.”

“Thire ran into a problem and it’s over there. I’m going to tell them to bring him with them. He’s one of the only ones who can talk some sense into you.”

“Don’t. I’ll be fine.” Lock hesitated. “That’s an order, Lock.”

“Yes, sir,” Lock said, clearly disagreeing. 

Force. This had been a real shit week.

They stayed stopped. Fox did not sit down, but stayed still so as to not set off his growing headache. Despite his order, when the transport arrived, Thire was on it. Fox sent a glare around his men. The effect was only lessened somewhat by the fact that he still wore his helmet. 

“Fox!” Thire called, hopping off before the transport came to a full stop. “How you doing?” 

“Fine,” Fox responded through gritted teeth. What happened on your end?” Few prisoners lay in the transport. 

“Attempted theft. We got them and are taking them in. When was the last time you slept?”

“Last night.”

“For how long?”

“Eight hours.”

“Liar.”

“I hate you.”

“How long?”

“Three hours.”

The squad all made small noises of disapproval. 

“And the last time you had water?”

“Hour ago.” The rest of the squad confirmed this. 

“Food?”

“This morning.”

“How much?”

“Half a ration bar.” Fox was too tired to fabricate anything.

“Before then?”

“Qui–Vos sent me a pb&j for lunch two days ago.”

“That’s it, you’re going to the medbay.”

“Unnecessary. I just need sleep and food.”

“And you’ll be getting that at the medbay. Come on. You’ll have to walk back without our esteemed commander, men,” Thire called to the troopers. They all made sounds of affirmation and started walking as Thire pulled Fox onto the transport. 

“You’d know if General Vos was dead by now,” Thire said bluntly.

“Yes.”

“So he isn’t.”

“Yet.”

“Listen, Fox, I’m not going to pretend to know the nature of your relationship, but you were clearly friends. It’s okay to be worried, and it’s okay to need time for yourself. It’s not okay to neglect your body for it. Don’t think Thorn and I haven’t noticed that you’re always at the training center when we aren’t.”

Fox said nothing.

“Vos’ll pull through. You’ll figure your shit out. In the meantime, though, he wouldn’t want you to be like this. Take a few days off if you need. Maybe visit him. Whatever works. Thorn and I can take over the paperpushing.”

Fox didn’t want to admit that he was this thrown off just because his stupid jedi had gotten himself exploded. Unfortunately, he had gone off and acquired himself feelings for this jedi. Ones that he probably needed to work through. At some point.

Thire seemed to see that Fox was on the brink of agreeing. “And you’re no help like this,” he added. “You could endanger your squadmates, You could have dropped the man you were carrying, and that could be a lawsuit or something if he’d gotten injured.” 

“I hope you know that I’m only agreeing because I’m too tired to argue.”

“Excellent. You’re going to the medbay for the rest of today, then I’ll put you on medical leave for another three days. We’ll just say you got clipped by the explosion and we didn’t realize until you almost passed out on the field from bumping into something.”

Fox sighed, and resigned himself to his fate.

The next two days were uneventful. Fox spent most of his time in the gym, at the sparring mats, shouting out advice. Thorn wouldn’t let him participate, despite all the rest and food he was getting. Bullshit, in Fox’s opinion, but Thorn didn’t care.

It was his last official day of rest when Fox saw Vos.

He was on his way back from the mess hall, where he had eaten with the rest of his men for once. He’d figured he might as well since he was already in the area, at the training halls. Thorn had PROMISED to send him some paperwork today. Fox wasn’t excited about that, but the feeling of being useful would be nice. 

He unlocked and opened the door to find Quinlan Fucking Vos draped across one of his chairs, staring into space.

Quinlan’s face lit up as he saw him. Fox tried his best to ignore the fireworks in his chest. “How did you get in here? The door was locked.” 

“I have a particular propensity for getting into pretty men’s bedrooms,” Vos replied with a wink, reminiscent of the first time he’d gotten in. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Fox sighed. “I’m… glad you’re okay, Vos,” he said stiffly. 

“Oh, back to Vos again? C’mon, we bonded!” Quinlan tutted sharply. “I like it when you say my name. Stick to Quinlan.” 

Fox flushed under his helmet. “Fine. I’m glad you’re okay, Quinlan.”

“Ooh, following orders?” Quinlan raised an eyebrow. “I should almost die more often!”

“No,” Fox growled, taking off his helmet, “you shouldn’t.” He sat in the other chair, facing the jedi.

Quinlan let out a small hum of acknowledgement. They spent a few seconds in silence, until Quin said, “I touched your stuff.”

Fox raised his eyebrows. “And why, pray tell, did you do that?”

“Psychometry. You’ve been getting decent sleep. Minimal work. Doesn’t seem like you.”

Fox scowled. “Thorn and Thire put me on medical leave for a couple days. They won’t let me train, patrol, they’ve even been stealing my paperwork.”

Quinlan’s eyes lit up in alarm. “Did you get hurt?” he asked.

“No. I didn’t.” Fox paused. “I almost passed out on patrol.”

Quin settled back in his chair. “...and why was that?” he asked pensively.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?!” Fox finally exploded. “You could have died! You almost did! And I couldn’t even visit you! All for a bunch of clones! We’re expendable, Quin! One Jedi is worth far more than ten clones! Why the fuck did you put yourself at risk?” His breathing was ragged. “You were talking to me like you were going to fucking die! You–Force, Quin.” His voice broke. “You’re a fucking idiot.” He slumped in his chair. Clones were designed to not cry, but Fox felt like he might. 

“You’re not expendable. None of you are. I know people treat you like you are, but you’re not. All lives are equal in the force. I’d gladly give my life to keep you alive. Don’t say that kind of shit about you and your brothers.” Quinlan looked upset, one of the only times Fox had seen him like that.

He shook his head doggedly. “You know you’re not supposed to do that.”

“And I’m not supposed to leave the halls of healing as soon as I can move, but here I am.” Vox shrugged, a gesture far too casual for the situation. “I’ve never cared what the Council thinks. Or the Senate.”

“You aren’t fully healed? Kriffing di’kuit, I’m taking you back.” 

Fox went to stand, but Vos scrambled into a normal sitting position and laid a hand on his arm. “Wait.” He sighed. “Can we talk?” Fox paused. “I’ll go back after.”

“Fine.” Fox sat back down. “An hour, max.”

“Deal.” Quinlan sat back and looked at Fox in an evaluating way. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for almost dying.”

“Don’t apologize. Not your fault.” 

“I should have seen that they had a thermal scanner. I messed up the whole operation.”

“You can’t get everything. No one’s perfect.”

“You almost died because I fucked up.”

“But I didn’t, because you have a fucking hero complex.”

“It’s called ‘caring about other people.’” There was a silence. “I got your letter.”

Fox swallowed. “Mm.”

“Short but sweet.”

“One way to put it.”

Quinlan pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. “‘Quinlan,’” he began reading. Fox buried his head in his hands. “‘Nobody else died. Thanks to you. Idiot.’” 

“Is there any way I can convince you to not read the whole thing?” 

“Not unless you want to attack a poor invalid. What, you embarrassed?” Quin sent him a worried glance. “If anything here isn’t true, I can stop. We don’t have to bring it up again.” 

Fox’s face burned red. “No. You’re good. Just–bad with this stuff.”

“Really? Hadn’t noticed. Now hush. ‘Thank you for saving me and my men. Pull something like that again and I will kill you. I’m sorry for fucking this up, and I’m sorry that I haven’t told you before that I really care about you. I have difficulties saying it but I want you to know, because I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t tell you. You’re very important to me and your stubborn ass better pull through this so I can tell you in person. The mission went well aside from the obvious. Get well soon, Commander Fox.’”

Quin folded it up and put it back in his pocket. “Comments? Questions? Concerns?”

“Yes. Why did you read my own letter back to me?”

“In case you forgot,” Quin responded with a cheeky smile. “You made promises.”

Fox frowned. “Ones that you are making awfully hard to follow up on.” 

He let out a long breath. 

“Yes. I care about you. You’re nice and funny and shit. You’re… a great friend.” He looked at Quin. “Happy?” 

Quinlan had a kind of sad half-smile. “Yeah. Thanks man.”

Fox felt like he had messed something up. He’d done it right, right? The ‘telling him he cared’ thing? “I’d say anytime, but I don’t know if I can promise that. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. I’ll stop making my feelings your problem.”

Fox was definitely missing something. 

Quinlan stood up to leave. “I should head back to the halls of healing,” he said, walking toward the door

Fox stood up and grabbed his wrist. “Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“What do you mean? About your feelings being my problem?”

Quinlan sighed, smiling sadly. It was nothing like his typical grin. “Me falling for you isn’t your problem. I don’t want you to have to manage it.”

What.

“You have a crush on me?”

“Yes? Was it not obvious from the flirting?”

“I thought you were like that with everyone!”

“Not to this extent! I thought you might like me back, from the letter, but you obviously don’t. Don’t worry about it, it’s fine.” He made to leave again, but Fox held on.

“I… am really, really bad with my feelings, Quin,” Fox said. Kriff, was he really doing this? Force. No wonder the Kaminoans told them to avoid romantic attachments. Really does fuck up your brain.

“I’m aware.”

“So… even if I’m trying to be honest about how I feel, the extent may not come across clearly.” Force this sucked.

“What are you trying to say, Fox?” Quinlan said, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“You’re really going to make me say it.”

“Absolutely.”

“I… may… also have feelings for you.”

“May?”

“Oh, fuck off.” Fox folded his arms, unconsciously assuming a defensive stance. “Quinlan FUCKING Vos, I have romantic feelings for you. Bitch.”

“Wasn’t aware I’d changed my middle name to ‘fucking.’” Quin was grinning, despite his snarky words. 

“I take it back.”

“Too late bitch!” Vos said giddily. “It’s out there! Which pickup line was it? I know there were a lot but I gotta know which one it was.” He started listing some of them off. Fox rolled his eyes and pulled him in by the wrist he was still holding, until they were flush against each other.

“Oh.” Quin said, stopping. 

“May I kiss you?” Fox asked roughly, glancing at his mouth. 

“Uh, yes,” Quinlan said. “Please.” 

Fox closed the distance between their lips, smiling.

“I should probably walk you back to the halls of healing,” Fox said regretfully. 

“Fuck that,” Quin said, a small smile on his lips. The two were sitting against the headboard of Fox’s bed, arms around each other. “I feel fine.”

“Okay. But your torso is wrapped in bandages and you’re on pain meds. I think you need a little more time.” 

“Fine.” Quinlan sighed and pulled himself off the bed, Fox following suit. 

He checked himself in the mirror, glaring daggers at Quin seeing the marks on his neck. “Did you have to?”

“I absolutely did. Just put on your bucket, no one’ll notice.” Fox glowered at Quinlan and followed suit. 

“I hope you know,” Quin said as they walked out and started heading for the Jedi Temple, “Now that we’re dating, I’m still going to flirt with you. I’ll just be able to back up my words with actions.” He shot Fox a sly smile. 

“We’re dating?”

“Oh! Sorry. Only if you want to be.” His smile faltered some.

“No. I have romantic feelings for you, and I just made out with you, but I don’t want to date you. That sounds awful.” Fox’s deadpan was very good.

Quin punched him in the shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Just–keep it a secret for now? Don’t need every trooper I have trying to figure out who the kriff I’m kriffing.”

“I’m a Shadow. I deal in secrets.” 

“So dramatic.” 

“You know you love it.”

“Fuck off.” 

When they finally neared the halls of healing, Quinlan turned to Fox. “I’ll come by your room once I’m officially let off.”

“Of course you will,” Fox said with a roll of his eyes as a Jedi healer emerged from the room. 

“Master Vos! You have not been cleared to leave the Halls of Healing! Thank you, Commander,” he said, directing the last part at Fox.

“No problem, sir. And General Vos?” 

Quin turned around as the healer ushered him inside. 

“I’ll be waiting.” He turned briskly on his heels and started walking back to his rooms. Thorn had probably sent along the paperwork. Thank Force he hadn’t walked in on him and Vos. 

Fox smiled. Kriffing Quinlan Vos. He couldn’t wait for the war to be over.

Bonus:

[cut to an hour ago, when they were doing feelings]

Thorn approached his Commander’s door, holding a couple datapads that Fox had requested. He heard quiet voices from the other side. “Quinlan FUCKING Vos, I have romantic feelings for you.” 

Thorn backed away from the door.

He’d come back later.

[cut to a couple days later]

“So you’re telling me you can’t tell me you like me, at all, but you can just pull me close and ask if you can kiss me?”

“The kaminoans didn’t teach us how to process our emotions. My brothers and I tend to be more… physical people.”

Quinlan grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Show me.”

Fox pulled his boyfriend closer. “Yes, sir.”

[nhyhu]

day 4 of @foxquinweek with the prompts after the war and night on coruscant

it's not quite after the war, but they're just on the rooftops, imagining what it would be like without the war what they could do after the war.

[ninjigma]

QuinFox Week Part 1/7 - Next

Day 1: On Coruscant/Coruscant Nights + “Please don’t take him from me.” Track: 'Shallow' - Tommee Profitt, Fleurie (Spotify / YouTube)

Quinlan slowly opened his eyes.

Fox was still next to him, his eyes closed despite having protested the idea so much. The lights of Coruscant bounced off his armor, danced over the surface of the senate roof, and otherwise kept Quinlan's attention much better than the distant stars or muted noises of speeders below.

That was why they were here. Quinlan had managed to convince Fox to sneak on top of the senate roof under the guise of wanting to meet before their mission tomorrow. And he had wanted to meet, and they had talked a little (about Quinlan being sure he had packed good snacks and nothing ridiculous to wear, which he was mostly honest about, as he didn't think Fox could look bad in anything); but this moment was his end goal. He had ensured the Commander would be off duty for it, that there would be nothing to threaten the chance for a moment of peace. He had asked him to trust him, as the Jedi held out his hands to boost Fox up. And after Fox threatened to throw him off the balcony instead, he had relented, had admitted his trust without ever saying a word.

As he already had many times before, Fox let Quinlan guide him to another hair-brained facet of life.

He began to smile, watching Fox’s head tilt slightly further back and his face becoming more relaxed. Like some form of meditation even if he knew Fox would protest ever attempting such a thing.

Stubborn clones. Brilliant fighters, loyal men, and faithful people, which made for stubbornness in the best way. The way Quinlan could so easily begin talking with, worm his way into joking with, and eventually earn enough trust to convince Commander Fox to follow him up here.

Here, where they could steal a moment of peace in a galaxy so determined to destroy it. On the roof of a building as corrupt as it was good, above a city so large it had levels to its streets, where the leader of the Jedi shadows could try to offer the head of the Guard a moment just to breathe.

And as he watched Fox’s back bend and shoulders raise, felt the way his carefully guarded Force signature spread out and rest at the edge of his senses, Quinlan let his eyes shut again.

‘Please… don’t take him from me.’

The thought crossed his mind more like a prayer, some small hope that he hadn’t done too much wrong to be allowed this small joy. That perhaps the Force could grant him this one thing. However this relationship so new played out, Quinlan could at least be able to keep the Commander's careful friendship.

No matter his feelings, his wish was to stay long enough to see that familiar face live a life of peace they had never known.

And that in some way, selfishly, he could be a part of it.

@foxquinweek

[ninjigma]

QuinFox Week Part 7/7 - First / Previous

Day 7: Back to Back + Fix It Track: 'All The Right Moves' - OneRepublic (Spotify / YouTube)

“When you asked me to help those troopers disappear I didn’t think it would lead us here Foxie.”

“Like you haven’t taken us to worse places on less information.”

“Hey, I just know how to show someone a good time.”

“Maybe if I was a parasite of some sort living in these drains,” Fox scoffed. 

The two were bickering as they moved, using it to ease the tension. Fox had been stressed for weeks handling this alone, and it had come to a head when Quinlan finally broke and confronted Fox, reminding him that they had agreed to no more life-threatening risks without the other right alongside them. They were to stay side by side, back to back. Putting space between them only left them both more vulnerable.

And so today Fox had shown him, taken him to a run-down apartment attached to a much nicer music studio, and explained it all. 

This led the duo to some new conclusions, as Vos’s information suddenly had a lot more pieces of the puzzle to snap together. Some realizations that they needed to act now, as soon as they could.

But for now, they bickered, because discussing how to take down a Sith lord running the entire government when you were a single clone commander and a Jedi not even well trusted by his own peers was a thought that needed a breath. Just some time floating around them in the storm drains they flitted through.

“You are a parasite, one I quite enjoy having around.”

Fox shook his head. “Only you could say something like that and think it is positive.”

“Oh?” Quinlan’s smirk was damned near audible. “Is that because I’m such a sweet romantic?”

“Quinlan Vos,” Fox slowed and turned, headlamp lighting up bright tattoos and twinkling eyes. How he could be so happy still, after everything they’d been through and all they still had to face, Fox didn’t know. But he was grateful for it. “You are an utter sappy romantic with a death wish, a brain cell for taste, and a drop of luck. Sweet is much too docile for how you love, and of everyone, I think I am very qualified to say as much.”

Quinlan’s smile grew wider. Even in the midst of everything, he always offered Fox a smile. And now, almost a year after offering a lot more than just that, he reached forward and took Fox’s hand as well.

“When it comes to me, I think you are definitely a leading expert.”

Fox had a retort, soft in its meaning but sure in its stressed humor, but it was cut short as keen ears picked up other footsteps. Because of course nothing would be simple. Even just walking through drain pipes was going to end as chaotically as they always did for them. 

Hunched down and still holding hands, Fox peeked around the corner in the junction. And immediately groaned.

“Remember that gang you’ve been pissing off digging into the Black Sun?”

He could hear Quinlan swear quietly. Because of course that slip-up the other day had the lower Coruscant gangs on the alert for them. There had been no way to avoid it, having to take more risks as so much of Quinlan’s trails had gone dry recently, but it left a little too much information on them out in the light for the Jedi shadow’s liking. 

“Fox, you know we’re going to have to-”

“We stay together as long as possible,” Fox cut him off. He wasn’t looking at Quinlan, but there was no immediate protest. It was a general agreeance anyhow, but Fox knew exactly where Quinlan was really going with all of this. 

“We have to reach the surface as fast as possible, and you know it is smarter for me to head to the senate-”

“Quinlan, I know!”

More voices, coming from different points around them now. They were moving as quietly as possible, talking in rushed whispers; but Fox’s voice grew a bit colder, angry in how Quinlan reminded him of how there was nothing different he could do. They pulled up short in another junction, this one opening upward and giving them a faster route out. But Fox wasn’t going one step further without making sure Quinlan understood exactly what was happening.

“I know, I’m to find General Koon and you’re going to shadow your ass through the senate to make sure nothing else happens before he and anyone else he can convince can get there. But we stay together as long as possible because I also know you will get yourself in trouble somehow, and you should know that if you die while I’m not there I will drag your spirit back from your Force osik and then kill you myself. Because I am coming back with them, I don’t care what you say about the safety of the chips or anything, you promised.”

Fox had rounded on Quinlan and crowded the taller man against the wall, close enough to still see his pained expression with the filter on his helmet. The gang was circling, and they would most definitely be fighting before they got out of here, so Fox knew there wouldn’t be another time after this point. That they would fight together now, at least one more time before Quinlan went off to shadow a Sith Lord that still made Fox’s chest tighten and nerves ache. Because he knew this was right, but parts of him still felt it was so wrong.

Hands reached out, gently caught the bottom of his helmet and lifted it like it had many times before. His eyes didn’t have time to adjust before soft familiar lips pressed to his and Fox put all of his focus into committing that feeling to memory as he always did, just in case.

“As long as possible. I do promise, with all that I can control Fox,” Quinlan's voice was clearer, close and no longer filtered through the helmet he held just above Fox’s head. “You’ll find me, and I’ll be there. I promise.”

Another soft press, noses bumping lightly. Then it was back as they were, Quinlan replacing the helmet that was so uniquely Fox, and then drawing his saber and a blaster.

“Ready Commander?”

The footsteps were louder, a shout came from the direction behind them and the whole tunnel system seemed to come alive.

“More than you ever seem to be, General.”

Smoothly they moved, back to back as the shots began and they took off down another tunnel, Quinlan trusting Fox to know where to go and Fox trusting Quinlan to guard his back for as long as he could.

Because that was what they did now, two wild souls in search of a peace born of thrill and trust, finding each other by chance and staying together by choice. That if anyone asked Fox he wouldn’t have any better answer than this was his Jedi, his best friend, his trusted partner. That there was at least one person in this whole galaxy they could trust within the cage of their ribs, that they would risk the pain it could cause for the chance at the joy they had found.

Because that is what they did now.

Loved wildly, trusted blindly, and guarded softly, all for the hope of just one more night under the stars together.

[ninjigma]

QuinFox Week Part 6/7 - First / Previous / Next

Day 6: Sleep/Nap + Psychometry Track: 'Touch' - Sleeping At Last (Spotify / YouTube)

This time it was Quinlan’s own racing heart that woke him. 

His dreams had been filled with blaster fire, flashes of his parents blending into recognized red armor. The screams of his Mother echoed around him as he picked up the broken helmet, saw his own reflection in the visor, his eyes burning yellow- 

The screams became his own. 

He heaved in air, awareness spreading out with the Force into the dim room in search of the threat. He had tried to sit up, felt pain flare in his abdomen and caused him to stall halfway, curling to lean on his uninsured right side. 

“-nlan, focus on me. I know you recognize my voice you joke about it being familiar all the time-“

“Fox?”

He hadn’t even noticed Fox come in, or maybe he had been in the bunk next to him? He hadn’t sensed him in his panic though he had been searching for threats, which Fox definitely wasn’t. If anything Quinlan latched his focus on Fox now and felt only safety, a comfort in the strength of another. 

“I’d say who else could I be but I guess there are at least a couple thousand possibilities,” Fox’s voice became sharper again, falling back on familiar humor at the sign that Quinlan was successfully anchoring himself. 

Another few breaths and Quinlan managed to croak out “Lucky guess then.”

Fox snorted, standing from where he had been kneeling in front of Quinlan. Slowly he reached out, hands barely brushing Quinlan’s shoulder in a clear direction for the Jedi to lay back down, which he did with a soft groan. 

“You should drink something,” the clone Commander pointed out. “Can probably eat now too if-“

“My mother. It was about my Mother.”

Fox pulled up short, half a step from turning away to grab the mentioned water and food. It was the middle of a sleep cycle, so he hadn’t been far when Quinlan’s choked scream woke him, but now he felt almost disconnected as Quinlan opened up in a very rare moment. 

A moment he was sharing, though quietly, as if Fox would push it off- no. As if Quinlan was giving Fox the option to push it off, that he didn’t need to stay and listen. 

But Fox had always listened before, even to things he definitely knew were ridiculous from the man before him. Why do anything different now?

At least, that was the reasoning Fox used as he returned to his spot from earlier, sitting and eyes tracking over Quinlan to check no bandages had come undone in the panic. 

“Your… Mother?”

Quinlan’s head gave the shortest nod but hadn’t managed to look to Fox yet. “She was… murdered. Both of my parents were, sacrificed by my great aunt to Anzati. I was four. They gave me her medallion, the one she wears in every memory I have. And-“

At this, his eyes closed, and Fox watched the signs of Quinlan slowing to find a semblance of control and balance, something honestly quite rare for the straightforward man to do. 

“And they gave it to me knowing full well I was what they described as ‘the best example of psychometry they’d ever seen’. I held the medallion and I relived their deaths like they were my own until Master Tholme found me.”

Fox blinked. He didn’t know truly what to do with any of that information. Surely he couldn’t change the past and had no similar experience of even having a parent to begin with. This wasn’t something he could fight physically or even parse out verbally. But before he could grow any more uncertain with the want to help but no path to understanding how, Quinlan continued with all the calm he shouldn’t have if Fox was to believe he was okay. 

“Sorry if that is a lot. You asked about her and it’s only an explanation of why I panicked. It was long ago, and I deal with it as best I can. I’m telling you not because I think you change anything about it Fox, but just cause you asked,” dark features finally pulled away from the ceiling to land on Fox. “All you had to do was listen, which you did. So, thank you.”

Fox didn’t feel like he should be thanked. Like he hadn’t done anything to actually help, though Quinlan always made it clear that Fox didn’t ever owe him anything. Thus he found himself nodding, agreeing as best he could in the heavy silence. 

Fox could be snippy, strong-headed, and fiercely loyal, pointed himself in a direction and slipped and fought his way to the end with everything he had. And though Quinlan told him thank you, Fox decided he could definitely do more than just sit here looking dumb to receive it. 

He didn’t owe it to Quinlan, he wanted it for himself. 

He reached out, fast before he could rethink it, and took Quinlan’s hand in his own. The Jedi didn’t even flinch, simply gave a short inhale and let his eyes flutter close. Fox had no idea how anything Jedi truly worked, but Quinlan had explained his need for gloves and how his psychometry worked before. Recalling that, he had wondered if Quinlan was strong enough to pick up memories or imagery, and decided he at least wanted to try. A chance to help Quinlan in some way even if it wasn’t with a blaster or armor. 

Face scrunching up slightly in concentration and a thought of how insane this all truly sounded if he thought too long, he pictured Dex’s. He thought about how it had been one of the first places Quinlan ever convinced Fox to eat at. He even recalled some of that meeting, how excited Dex had been, how the food quickly become something Fox loved, and then how it ended with Fox dangling off a speeder while Quinlan attempted to help him and also steer with the Force. 

He really did collect the insane one this time didn’t he? Maybe even give Rex a run for his money in the crazy General department.   

Quinlan suddenly laughed, choked but a laugh nonetheless. So perhaps it wasn’t that insane to think that even without being able to use the Force, Quinlan could reach out and find Fox instead. Like he always seemed able to do.

“Cody is the one with the crazy General,” Quinlan murmured. “But thanks for the nomination.”

Fox thought of some of the stories Cody had told him and snorted softly as Quinlan laughed again.

“I- I can’t tell what you are thinking exactly, it is more an impression and imagery thing, and people are always complicated. But you definitely have no contradictions in the feelings of ‘you’re crazy’.”

Fox rolled his eyes, though at least he hadn’t thought of anything too embarrassing or made a mockery of holding Quinlan’s hand for no reason. “It’s because it isn’t complicated, just a fact. You are crazy.”

“Crazy about you.”

It had been said teasingly, familiar in Quinlan’s antics of flirting playfully with Fox, in which the commander would normally quip back at him. But after everything, Fox being confronted with how much hearing Quinlan say goodbye hurt, how his heart plummeted when Quinlan had collapsed so lifelessly in his arms, how every step carrying him back made him fear he may never again hear those flirting comments again, and thus never feel the resulting small flutters of hope that they could be true; after all of it, he finally put a few thoughts to his feelings. A few realizations that his priorities and wants may have shifted without him ever really noticing. Like the shadow he was, Quinlan had slipped in close and before Fox knew it he found he didn’t want to be left alone in the dark again.

In a blink, he decided he wanted Quinlan to stay with him.

“Fox?” 

And in another blink, he realized his mistake.

“Sorry, I-” he pulled his hand back, every intention of moving away, under the guise of getting Quinlan or drink or maybe even an excuse to check the ship again. But he had barely let go before Quinlan’s own hand wrapped around his, anchoring the clone in place.

“No, Fox, it’s okay. You don’t have to leave,” Quinlan’s voice was low, raw in a way Fox had never heard before. “I want to stay, want you to stay, if you do too.”

Quiet. Neither of them was known for being quiet, especially not when they were together. But now it filled the small room, cushioned them both in silence that spoke louder than any words. Shifted to still and watched as they both took soft breaths.

Fox moved first.

Slowly he slid towards Quinlan, who moved the blanket back like he had been expecting it. And maybe he had with whatever Jedi nonsense Fox still scrunched his nose up about, but what was important is actually how his own stomach flipped over itself as he was now on his side, one arm naturally stretching out along the bed which Quinlan quickly accommodated, laying still on his back to not agitate his injuries.

Again they stilled, Fox’s eyes drifting over the dreadlocks splayed out across the small bit of pillow between them. Now he was close enough to pick apart the smallest scar almost hidden by Quinlan’s eyebrow, how those yellow tattoos complemented the deep color of his skin, a complexion even darker than Fox’s. 

“Don’t forget to breathe, Commander.”

A joke, one that shocked a scoff out of Fox as he tried not to show how he began to consciously breathe again. “And don’t you dare irritate your wounds. I spent way too long patching them up for you to aggravate them again.”

Quinlan’s eyes had shut and left Fox the illusion of privacy even as he could watch the rise and fall of Quinlan’s bare chest. The hand that had come to rest between them looked wrong now that it was empty, and there was still that little space between them.

Fox shifted closer, fingers drifting over the back of Quinlan’s hand. The Kiffar man hummed quietly, shifted his hand above Fox’s and moved closer as well. Naturally, they tucked close together, and Fox found his nose pressed to soft locks and Quinlan's head turned slightly to ghost breath across the low hollow of Fox’s throat.

“So, you really carried me all the way back?”

Fox steadied himself in the note of humor, even if Quinlan’s own voice still had those unsure feelings hidden in it. It didn’t phase Fox, especially because of how his own emotions were still as confusing as ever and thus he focused on that familiar banter.

“Yeah, dragged your self-sacrificing Jedi ass back here and I still haven’t heard a thank you.”

“Awe, would my clone in shining armor like a kiss for his efforts?”

Fox rolled his eyes and sank a bit closer. “I think the painkillers are still affecting you, you sound delusional.”

“Not at all, Fox,” Quinlan hummed. “So much not that I may actually pass out from the pain.”

Fox tried to hide his smile. “Can’t be that bad if you didn’t say anything, di’kut.”

“You would’ve gotten up, and I didn’t want you too.” Quinlan's eyes opened lazily to glance towards their entwined fingers, smile small but bright. “Not a chance Foxie, not for anything.”

“You’re so stupid.”

“All for you Fox. A true menace or you wouldn’t like me.”

Fox felt the other man sag against him. His voice had slurred, being awake finally becoming too exhausting for him. And Fox selfishly accepted the moment, relished in the touch of someone he found he trusted explicitly for the rare seconds he would have it.

Only to realize… he didn’t have to steal the moment. Vos had gifted it to him. Was giving him the chance, the choice, the option. Told him exactly what he wanted, and gave the Fox the moment to back out or get up and leave. To keep the distance they had carefully crafted with their quips and side missions and drunk sabacc games. 

Quinlan’s thumb brushed over the back of Fox’s hand.

Fox stayed.

[ninjigma]

QuinFox Week Part 5/7 - First / Previous / Next

Day 5: Healing + Battle Couple Track: 'Deep Water - Acoustic' - American Authors (Spotify / YouTube)

He woke up to the sound of a ship.

A low hum told him they were in hyperspace, that somehow he had gotten back. All he had were fleeting moments of clarity, starting with the jab of something sharp into his arm and the distinct voice of a clone swearing. 

Fox. 

He groaned trying to remember more, blinking blurry eyes and trying to sit up.  He stopped startled when a hand on his shoulder stilled him.

“Don’t, Quinlan, just- just rest okay?”

Quinlan breathed deeply, trying to relax at the knowledge that he was with Fox and Fox wasn’t panicking, so surely they must be safe wherever they were. 

“Fox?”

Vision clearing further he picked out that familiar profile, lined with worry and beautiful gray hair spreading from his temples. 

“Yes, I’m still here Quinlan.”

“Where’s here?”

“Back on the ship, en route to Coruscant using the pre-made flight path you set.” Fox was speaking like he had already said the answer before, eyes locked on the data pad in his hand. “I’ve already forwarded the information we received and updated the Council on your condition. You don’t need to contact them again until you reach the temple in a few days.”

Quinlan slowly lolled his head to the side, carefully taking in Fox’s tense posture as he sat at the edge of the bunk by Quinlan's hip. He was only in his undersuit, the special regulating fabric hugging his lean and lethal form. Quinlan had always found that interesting about Fox, how he seemed almost sleeker than other clones. Minor differences that just spoke of how he had tapered himself to what he was skilled in, and, combined with how he swore Fox could be a Jedi shadow in a different life, really just fit that namesake so well. 

Before he could say anything in response though, Fox had continued on, answering unasked questions. “Yes, it’s our ship, I wasn’t leaving my helmet behind. Yes, I have your lightsaber. And yes, I brought you back. I carried you, you aren’t misremembering. Yes, I know you think my hands are pretty, and finally, yes, I am very much okay. Only minor injuries.”

Quinlan felt a blush rise to his cheeks just as much as the smile that began to lift his cheeks. “I guess I was saying those things out loud then huh?”

Fox’s head snapped up, eyes turning to the Jedi. Finding whatever he required to recognize Quinlan truly had awoken, his brilliant first statement was “Quinlan?”

“Did I add the part about wanting to kiss your scar then?”

Fox’s nose crinkled, stubborn, and as adorable as usual, in Quinlan’s opinion, especially when he caught how there was now the smallest hint of a blush on those cheeks. 

“Yes, yes you did. You weren’t exactly of a sound mind though, so I won’t hold it against you if-!”

At this, he tossed the data pad on the counter across from them, then turned fully to Quinlan with one accusing finger wagging at the bedridden man. 

“If you never, ever, do that to me again, got it? I don’t care that it wasn’t GAR business, that was too close, and I refuse to have you collapse like that again.”

“I did it because it's you.”

Fox blinked, stilling. 

Quinlan took it as his chance to continue, head still a bit unfocused and heart somehow untethered. “Yes, your hands are pretty. Yes, I would kiss the scar. No, I’m not joking. Yes, I’m coherent, I have done this enough times to know. So yes, it's because it is you, and you are brilliant, can even handle my lightsaber better than most Jedi I have seen, so I trust you. And as for GAR business, I understand, because it wasn’t GAR business, but… well…”

At this he smiled, eyes a tad heavy again and knuckles weakly brushing out against Fox’s leg. “It’s me, and it’s you. And though it wasn’t GAR business, I have definitely made myself your business, just like you’re mine.”

Fox’s hand fell slowly, landing on the bed just shy of Quinlan's forearm. He looked like he was debating something, and Quinlan figured it was a moment of truth. If Fox would deem him unwell and they would drop whatever was happening, or if he would give in and push forward. 

Fox’s own worn knuckles gave the softest brush to Quinlan’s arm. 

“Yes, yes you are my business. You… you are my friend. So you should very well know by now I’d fight every droid the separatists have to get your ass out of trouble, you jerk. That I wasn’t going to let you make me go back to the Council alone. General Kenobi would be all sad too and Cody would be a blasted pain about it. So don’t ever go doing risky things without me. I’m not falling for the Jedi business line anymore, got it?”

Dark eyes locked on his, and despite his weariness, Quinlan was able to pick up the pain there and tried to prompt Fox further. “Don’t like me leaving you out of all the fun?”

“I don’t like hearing you say goodbye over a comm, Quinlan, damn it-“

Fox heaved a heavy breath, and for once Quinlan stayed silent. He let Fox work through what he needed and gave him the mercy of silence to make his decision on his next words. 

“Who else is gonna actually challenge me in sabacc? Poke and prod at me every chance they get? Or even drag me out to do insane things, drink and bitch with me? Smuggle me in different and new foods, even if it’s late at night, just cause you're so excited for me to try it that even your tattoos look like they are smiling? Well, I’ll tell you what, it doesn’t matter who else, because none of them would be you.”

This time the back of Fox’s hand pressed against his forearm was clearly intentional, Fox’s gaze turning fully to Quinlan, who was feeling a dozen different things from within himself and in the Force surrounding Fox. 

“They wouldn’t be you, and so it wouldn’t be the same. Because it’s you, Quinlan Vos. It’s all you, and I refuse to go on in this galaxy without… that, if I can help it.”

“And what is… that?”

Fox’s hand was flippant, gesturing in Quinlan’s general direction with a huff, and the blush was now very clearly there for a reason that Quinlan suspected he could finally piece together. 

Softly, with a hint of their usual banter but enough heart to be clearly different, Quinlan spoke. “I think you’re gesturing to all of me.”

Eyes flickering up quickly, then away as Fox turned to try and hide the smile Quinlan could practically feel. “Yeah, all of… that.”

Quinlan snickered, quiet and childish. “Well, I think we make a great couple then.”

Before Fox’s mouth could finish whipping back around Quinlan cut in again. “Because I don’t want to face the galaxy without all of… that, either. Dream team, best battle couple, taking on the galaxy and all the idiots in it together.”

His eyes were slipping closed, but not fast enough to miss the rare soft gaze Fox gifted him and the gentlest murmur of “Yeah, a… great couple…” from those beautiful lips. 

Quinlan fell back into the dark without a single ounce of fear.

[ninjigma]

QuinFox Week Part 2/7 - First / Next

Day 2: Dance With Me + First Date Track: 'Paint It Black' - Wednesday Addams (Spotify / YouTube)

"This is not part of the plan."

Quinlan grinned. He couldn't help it, the situation and the way Fox was trying so desperately to figure out how to dance without admitting anything was too amusing.

"Maybe, but every good plan is adaptable."

"And what exactly are we adapting for?"

Quinlan's hand gently pressed against Fox's side, encouraging him to begin a movement that would carry them left. Learning quickly, Fox followed, his feet starting to fall more naturally as they continued.

"Here, you have to follow my feet, not mimic them," Quinlan slowed to a half pace, still fast enough to blend in with the fast stringed music but slow enough that Fox would have a chance.

He was unable to see any blush or real expression past the mask Fox wore, but he could sense the slight tension of the Commander trying to do as directed. That and the lack of a quip showed that this was something Fox did not want to dwell on long, though Quinlan noted he followed the instructions perfectly.

"Overheard something was being unveiled tonight and I have to stay and find out," Quinlan offered in a rushed voice, trying not to get lost in watching Fox move. "You head out, can wait at the safehouse if you want, but this is Jedi related, so you don't need to be involved and one of us needs to make sure that information gets back."

The way Fox tilted his head forward and looked up through thick lashes was filled with fire. In short, he was not pleased at all.

"The mission-"

"Doesn't include putting you at risk for something unplanned and unrelated." Quinlan shrugged, kept a smirk plastered in place as he spoke the official line with ease. A way to keep Fox out of things.

"This room is filled with more Separatists than our intel informed us, and they already seem suspicious. Plus, we are already running out of time until they notice the information is gone. You can't stay. We have what we came for, we should leave."

Fox was correct, but Quinlan knew it couldn't be so. He had to get his hands on what he overheard. Failing that he would destroy it. Kept in a museum or not, he knew the artifact would be too dangerous to just leave behind, especially in separatist and therefore Sith territory.

"Fox," he sighed, face becoming uncharacteristically soft. "I am sure I'll be fine. You can wait in the safe house then and I will be quick. For now just enjoy being my date, yeah?"

Fox was quiet.

Quinlan watched him sway, curving and moving easily in sync with him now. He was assessing things, weighing options that Quinlan knew from experience he should not say a word about until Fox was done, which also meant until Fox had made his decision and wouldn't be swayed anyhow. It spoke of the man's determination and wit, and Quinlan thought highly of him for it, respecting how the clone choose to do things. And more privately he thought it matched the Fox inspired outfit he had chosen quite handsomely.

"Just so you know, before you rush off to be an idiot," Fox's voice was even, measured, didn't truly allow Quinlan a read besides Fox was potentially agreeing to do what Quinlan said. "This is a lousy first date."

Quinlan snickered and spun them a bit faster with the tempo, eyes subconsciously watching for any new signs of his quarry. "What do you mean first? What about all the times I bring you food or travel with you?"

"You sneak me food," Fox corrected, nose now turned upward. It was the much more familiar dance between them, and Quinlan was privately relieved for it and this meant Fox had fully relented, he would be safe soon. "And I only travel with you for missions. This is the first time you have deviated so far it is a whole different direction, and have specifically used the word date. So I am telling you, a double heist in a museum's masquerade gala full of separatists that would love to see us both dead is not a good first date. Horrible even."

Quinlan swayed closer, pressed more fully into Fox like he had his own gravitational pull. "Come on Foxie, we both know the only issue you really have with this as a date is because I called it one."

Commander Fox, the brilliant, cunning, mischievous man he was, didn't offer any response. But Quinlan noted with pride the slightest upturn to his lips.

@foxquinweek

[ninjigma]

QuinFox Week Part 3/7 - First / Previous / Next

Day 3: Knight in Shining Armor + Goodbye Message Track: 'Now - Connor' - Nima Fakhrara (Spotify / YouTube)

Vos's lungs burned.

He was racing down side streets, slipping and sliding around corners in the heavy rain, and trying not to think about Fox going in the opposite direction.

"You have to leave Fox! Get the information back-"

"I am not leaving you-"

"Now Fox!"

He could feel himself getting dizzier, and a shot finally made it past his saber as he rounded a corner. He was forced to jump and run along an alley wall past more of the deadly droids, managing to decapitate two of the four, for what little it will do with the three still tailing him.

"Quinlan-"

"No Fox, I'm sorry. I'm giving you the chance to get back. You have to take it."

"But I-!"

"Goodbye Fox." Voice soft despite his pain, with a weight Quinlan spent most of his life always hiding. "Thanks for being my... my friend. One of the best."

The way the holocron shattered as his lightsaber ignited through it had been gorgeous in and of itself, red shards flickering to dullness around the green blade. He wished he could have kept it but there had been no time for anything more as in an instant the museum had been swarming with droids. Much more than had any right to be there, and the feeling it had been a trap itched at the back of his preoccupied mind.

He hadn’t prepared enough, had gone after the prism on a whim and with no aid or plan. He had rushed the display and in his haste the droids had managed to land a sharp blow across his thigh that left him now struggling with blood loss. He hadn't made it far before they had cornered him again and swung at him with electro staffs glowing and blasters firing with no hesitation. But despite as much pain he suffered escaping and the certainty of death he faced now, he knew he would make the same choices in a heartbeat.

His only regret had been those final words to Fox before he destroyed the mask and the link to the Commander.

That in the end he hadn’t lied, but he still hid the truth.

Quinlan stumbled to a halt at the end of an alley, the roof line too far for him to jump in this state. And that wasn’t his goal now anyhow. It was to die giving Fox enough time to make it off the planet, to get the information that would help the Republic back safely. Specifically to Obi-Wan and the 212th, which may have selfishly been the reason Quinlan had volunteered so easily in the first place. He may have his own issues and reservations about this war and how things seemed to be going for the Jedi in it, but he would take on the droid army all by himself if it meant protecting what little family he felt he truly had.

So as he turned to face the droids hot on his heels a hand fell to the deep wound on his inner thigh and tried to keep a pressure strong enough to allow him one last fight. It was wet, hot, and burned at the touch, but he barely registered it as his saber blazed to life and his heart set itself in stone.

He supposed he had gotten his wish of not having Fox taken away. But as he blocked blasters and watched the droids advance he regretted that he had been too vague about not leaving Fox behind himself. That, as sure as he was in the decision to destroy something that could bring the Sith to greater power, he regretted the pain he had inflicted on Fox, knowing the man well enough that he would agonize over how this all could have gone better, things he could have done to save him as if it hadn’t been Quinlan’s choices every step of the way that brought him here.

As another shot landed on his shoulder and his lightsaber fell, he found one last moment to close his eyes and revise the wish he had made only a few days before.

‘May he find peace, even if I am not there to see it.’

The sound of blaster fire-

-then the snap of metal.

Quinlan's eyes shot open in shock and watched Fox, who had dropped in front of him with a foot landing perfectly on the weak point of the droid's neck seconds after shooting it in the chest. The droids were unprepared and Fox was as precise as ever, taking out the squad in quick and deadly movements. Faced against the last and most recovered droid they exchanged fast hand-to-hand before Fox dropped to a knee and delivered a final shot to the chin of the droid, the heavy thud drowned out by the shuddering of rainfall.

As Fox turned to look at Quinlan, careful and taunt, all the adrenaline and joy rushed out of the Jedi and he dropped fully to the ground.

He was safe. Even as his vision went black and the pain flared, Quinlan knew, with Fox, he was safe.

@foxquinweek

[lbibliophile-sw]

Better than paperwork

It’s below his paygrade, but not infrequently Fox spends the evening covering shifts at the Judicial holding cells. Not the drunk tank where intoxicated and belligerent Vode end up, thankfully, but the cells where the overnight patrols bring arrests until the natborn courts can process them in the morning.

It makes for a change of scenery as he completes his own paperwork during lulls, and it is refreshing to deal with honest criminals occasionally instead of just those with a seat in the Senate. They are certainly more engaging.

A certain charming kiffar springs to mind; dark locs, golden tattoos, sharp grin. Fox may get rather less paperwork done than usual on the unfortunately-frequent occasions that the man is brought in. Their conversations ride the line of what is appropriate, particularly for a GAR Commander, but at this point Fox is willing to take genuine positive interactions wherever he can get them. It says something about his job when those evenings become the highlight of his week.

He is working in his office, however, when the Guard on desk duty knocks on his door.

“Commander, there’s a Jedi here to talk to you about assistance for an investigation.”

He groans and pushes aways his datapad, really not in the mood to deal with a Jedi swanning in and ordering his men around.

“I hope this isn’t a bad time?” There is a figure peering over the Guard’s shoulder. It takes a moment to place the familiar face coupled with the traditional Jedi robes, but then it clicks. “Jedi Knight Quinlan Vos. Nice to meet you properly, Commander.”

Maybe this mission won’t be so bad after all. He’ll have to assign himself to it to make sure.

---

For @foxquinweek - day 7: undercover

[lbibliophile-sw]

The Thought That Counts

For @foxquinweek - day 6: psychometry Also on AO3 (1000 words)

Quinlan and Fox don’t show their love by giving gifts. Neither of their lives have been conducive to hoarding things, and they feel no particular desire to try now. Instead they show their love in time spent together, carved out of their busy schedules, and in sharing experiences new and familiar.

All of this means that Quinlan is surprised – touched but slightly confused – when Fox gifts him a jar of marbles for their first anniversary.

Later back in his rooms, Quinlan empties the jar onto his bed, wondering if there is something else – an explanation – hidden inside. There isn’t. Just a rainbow cascade of glass balls, brightly coloured, but the sort that can be found at any number of places on Coruscant or across the galaxy.

He picks up a marble with cheerful yellow and pink swirls for a closer look.

Fox is hooked from the smell alone, strange and delicate and enticing. Then Quinlan hands him the still-warm pastry and he takes a bite. He doesn’t know what to focus on. The pastry is light and flaky and decadent, the fruit is rich and thick with just a hint of tartness, the white powder sprinkled on top gives surprise highlights of further sweetness…

The marble slips from his bare fingers in his surprise, the taste of sugar lingering on his tongue. It’s been a while since his psychometry has blindsided him like that, but the simple glass ball is positively dripping with the impression.

He eyes the marbles sitting innocently on his covers, smiling as a suspicion forms. He retrieves a solid red one from the pile.

“Hurry up Fox. We’re about to show, and you need to be here to appreciate my win.”

The grin on Quinlan’s face welcomes him back to the group clustered at one of the tables in the Guard messhall. He settles into the seat at his side and peers at his partner’s cards. It is a good hand, not great but solid, and the confidence Quinlan exudes has already driven both Hound and Zontal to fold, leaving only Stone watching him across the sizeable pot.

He eyes his brother, noting the subtle tells in the set of his shoulders, the way the Guards behind him can’t quite hide their anticipation.

Oh, Quinlan is going down.

He laughs at Fox’s point of view of the memory. Stone had won the game, but he had won something much more important. That was the first time he had spent any real time with the other Guards off-duty, and the first time they came to see him as Quinlan not just General Vos.

Placing the red marble to one side, he reaches for another in green and orange.

It is still dark in Fox’s shoebox of a private room, with its tiny excuse for a window. But the chrono shows that his shift starts in less than an hour, so he has dragged himself out of his unusually-enticing bed to strap on his armour.

Fully dressed, he pokes the lump huddled under his blankets, receiving only a squirm and wordless grumble in response.

“Quinlan. I need to go, but you’re welcome stay and rest. I’ll lock the door behind me so no-one disturbs you.” There’s a noise that might be an affirmative then the figure stills, breathing steading back into sleep.

Fox has to take a few deep breaths of his own, resisting the urge to crawl back into bed himself. In all the months they have been dating, he has never seen Quinlan so relaxed, so vulnerable. And it is here, in Fox’s bed, that he feels safe enough to relax his watch.

With effort, he turns to the door. Alas, duty calls.

Another in striking black and silver catches his eye.

His nerves are alight. He doesn’t know whether he wants to lean into the hands tracing his sides or twist away from the intensity, but he can’t move anyway, won’t move, because moving might make him stop ---

And… that would be the evening before. He quicky puts the marble to one side, noting the colours, embarrassed to feel a blush staining his cheeks. He’ll come back to this particular memory later.

A grey and blue ball finds its way to his fingers.

Fox’s office isn’t much to look at. Standard issue chair, standard issue desk, standard issue datapads, standard issue Clone Commander… By far the most interesting feature is the battered couch against the back wall. It is big, green, squishy, and absolutely not standard issue.

Thorn found it during the first few months of the war, and it is without a doubt Fox’s favourite piece of furniture. He has lost count of the number of nights he has sacked out in its embrace, or sat watch over a younger brother doing the same. More are the number of times where he has curled up there with one of the other Commanders after a hard shift or just multitasking cuddling and paperwork.

That is the position he finds himself in now, almost. Leaning against one end, legs stretched out, a pile of datapads gradually reducing beside him. Only, instead of Thire’s warmth at his back, it is Quinlan sitting across from him, frowning at datapad of his own, their legs entwined.

It has been well over an hour since either of them broke the focused silence, but Fox treasures these moments almost more than their conversations. Just being, together, sharing each other’s space. It’s almost… domestic.

Smiling gently, he replaces the marble in the jar, then uses a fold of the bedcovers to sweep the other marbles back in as well. Sealing the lid he places the jar carefully on a shelf, feeling a warm glow of anticipation at all the marbles he has yet to test.

Oh his clever Fox.

They don’t show their love in gifts of things, but in experiences and time together. And that is exactly what Fox has given him.