Chapter Text
Cody wiped the sweat from his brow before readjusting his hat. He squinted down at the soldering equipment in his hands and shifted where he was kneeling, the sand long since having filled his boots and made its way beneath his clothing. It was uncomfortably hot beneath the bright suns but all things considered, Cody was in a good mood.
This was his third or fourth job for Owen on his moisture farm and he found that he quite liked the practical element of it, more than he’d anticipated. With tasks like this, using his hands, Cody was able to see the visible, tangible, results of his labour as soon as it had occurred — unlike his command role where any improvements had been nebulous if they’d been there at all. Unlike his water-delivery role, too, where once he’d made his delivery, that was that.
In another life, Cody thought — or perhaps, this one now — he would have loved to have been a mechanic. If only he’d been selected for it on Kamino… But then again, if he’d been part of the engineering corps, he never would have met Obi-Wan. No. Cody might not have been dealt the best hand in life but he wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
He held up a long, metallic sheet to the hole he’d been patching up. It (eventually) would make up part of Owen’s speeder shed which had been battered to pieces by a recent sandstorm. Since then, sand had been pouring in through the gaps, getting into the speeder’s engines and reeking havoc. Those were a problem for another time; however, and for now Cody needed to focus on plugging up the holes as best he could. He and Owen could talk about building an entirely new shed afterwards.
With one hand, Cody picked up the soldering gun whilst holding the sheet in place with the other before setting to work. Steadily, he began to fuse the two pieces of metal together, working his way around the edge. It was by no means difficult work, but the focus it required, the steady hand, had Cody’s brows knitting together in concentration.
He managed to get half-way around before he noticed a slim strip still exposed, the sheet not quite side enough to plug the hole completely. Cody couldn’t quite stop himself from sighing. It wasn’t a large hole, but it was certainly big enough for sand to pour through the moment the wind picked up. He bit his tongue and continued soldering.
He’d have to go into Mos Eisley again now to pick up another mental sheet. It felt like such a long journey for something so small, but Cody knew he’d be thinking about it for the rest of the rotation if he didn’t get it sorted quickly. Besides, if Owen was paying him for his work, the least Cody could do was finish the job. Perhaps he could pick up some parts to repair the damaged speeders whilst he was at it.
He wasn’t sure he could make the trip there and back before the sun set, though, so likely the final repairs would have to wait until the morning.
After doing what he could, Cody set the tolls back down in his toolbox and clasped it shut. It had been the first thing he’d bought with his initial paycheck from A’dden once his debt had cleared — perfect for these sorts of jobs and any maintenance Obi-Wan needed. He’d leave it inside with Owen so it didn’t get too sandy whilst he was away.
Just as he made to push himself back up onto his feet again, there were quick, crunching footsteps from behind. He saw Luke’s shadow before he turned.
“Cody?” A voice asked. “Do you have time to look at the gonk droid today? It’s been acting up again — says it’s charging but when you go to take it out, it’s never more than a quarter full.”
“It’ll have to wait until I’m next over, sorry.” Cody shot him an apologetic smile. “I need to go into Mos Eisley and grab some stuff to finish this off first.” He motioned to the hole in the shed wall and Luke gazed at it, nodding. “Think you’d be able to tell your uncle that? That I'll be back to finish it off tomorrow? The sheet was too damn short.”
“Sure, no problem.” The boy nodded.
“Great, can you give this to him to keep for me?” Cody handed over the tool box, securely closed to ensure that Luke couldn’t get into too much mischief between the shed and the main house.
The moment Luke had it, he immediately took off across the sand at a sprint.
“Careful! Don’t run with it!”
“Sorry, Cody!” He wasn’t, but Cody didn’t have it in him to be angry at the child. He smiled as he watched Luke speed-walk away. He had so much energy. Just like Leia, really, both of them wild spirits.
In another life, he would have loved a child of his own to care for, to teach, to protect. He supposed Luke was the closest he’d ever get to that. He was a good kid. Owen might not have liked Obi-Wan, which was a point of tension between him and Cody (though not as big as he’d feared, luckily) that had never quite gone away, but he’d done a damn good job at raising Luke.
Cody made his way over to his speeder. Although it was new to him , he’d bought it second-hand. It was a shitty, beaten-up old thing that he needed to strip and service completely, but at least it worked. The amount of time he’d managed to save with his regular trips to, from and around Mos Eisley delivering water for A’dden was untold.
He’d been laughed at several times for the state of the speeder but Cody was happy with it, anyway. He was happy with his shitty little bike, his cave in the middle of the desert and his tentative friendship with the Lars family and others in town. Over the last rotation, Cody had even managed to befriend the owner of the pet shop he kept making regular deliveries to. Perhaps if he wanted a massif, he’d get a discount, Cody pondered.
A question to ask Obi-Wan another time, maybe. He got the sense the Jedi was more of a tooka-person anyway.
After the speeder’s engine choked it’s way to life, Cody donned his equally shitty, battered helmet — a world away from the helmet he used to wear, but that was half the point — and made his way into Mos Eisley.
It was only a short trip on the speeder, Cody finding himself amongst the domed, sand-coloured buildings in no time at all. Once alien and overwhelming to him, the streets were now familiar to Cody, as were the faces of the locals. He knew that he hadn’t been there long in the grand scheme of things, still viewed as an outsider to most, but this was the longest Cody had been in one place since leaving Coruscant, he thought. And that certainly wasn’t a place any clone wanted to call home.
At a snail’s pace, Cody steered to ride up the main street. He had to go slowly, the engine almost ticking over and stalling, in order to avoid the pedestrians strolling about in the middle of the road. No one seemed to care about traffic laws here, which Cody found frustrating to no end. He didn’t think he’d noticed a single one being adhered to regularly. Though that, just like every other part of this lawless planet, was growing on him. Like a fungus , Obi-Wan had said with a laugh when Cody had told him as much.
He passed by some vendor’s stalls, and then a few empty compounds on his left before coming up to A’dden’s. Cody raised his hand in greeting as he rode by after spying the twi’lek smoking outside. He looked a little stressed, but then again… A’dden was always worried. That changed immediately when he set eyes on Cody, though, and he waved back frantically, flagging him down.
‘I hope this doesn’t mean trouble’ Cody thought. A’dden seemed to attract bad luck, he’d noticed — though not to the same extent as Obi-Wan during the war. No wonder his business was doing so poorly when, by all accounts, he should have been rich selling water on a planet like this.
He dutifully stopped outside the compound and switched off his speeder. A’dden made his way over — bustling being the best way to describe how the twi’lek moved at times.
“Ah, I wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow! Everything going well, I trust?” And then, before Cody could reply, A’dden was continuing. “There was a clone here this morning looking for you.”
Cody froze. A’dden didn’t look alarmed so, obviously, the clone had been pleasant to him. But that didn’t reveal much. Any of them, friend or foe, would have been polite if it meant gathering useful information — information about Cody and likely Obi-Wan’s whereabouts in this case.
“What did you tell them?” It came out a little sharper than Cody had been intending, but A’dden took no offence.
“Oh, don’t look so startled! I told him I get plenty of clones passing through here and couldn’t possibly remember them all by name. I said I’d ask around and he told me he had a room above the cantina for the next few days — you should be able to find him there.”
Cody relaxed a tad. At least A’dden had some sense.
“Ok… I’ll take a look and see what he wants. Thanks for telling me.” Cody started his speeder again and gave a little half-wave.
“Don’t forget about your shift tomorrow! I won’t have you be late or abandon ship halfway through like last time because of your domestic issues!” Cody didn’t reply, just nodded and trundled off with his speeder in first gear, careful of the jawa who’d stopped in the middle of the street for no discernable reason.
Familiar with the area, Cody switched his route and made his way to the cantina. He could only hope it wouldn’t take too long — he still needed to buy some things for Owen before the shop closed. Cody had a niggling feeling that this was more important, though.
Nerves churned in his belly as he stopped outside the cantina.
Who was looking for him? Longshot was the first name that came to mind, maybe Fix, before it briefly landed on Rex. But then again, there was a strong chance the clone was a bounty hunter. He’d heard of wayward clones hunting down Obi-Wan, it wouldn’t be that big of a jump for them to start hunting down one of their own, too. Or perhaps they wanted to get to Obi-Wan through him.
Possabilities whirled around in Cody’s mind but he knew none of them could be put to rest until he entered and set eyes on the clone himself.
He’d be able to tell in an instant, of course. A natborn would have found it impossible, but Cody’s entire career had been built on his ability to read his men like an open book — working out their intentions, what motivated them, what disciplinary action might be best. Cody knew he’d be able to tell apart friend and foe in the blink of an eye where this clone was concerned.
He wished he’d brought his blaster. Obi-Wan was against carrying them about in the open, especially around Luke since he enjoyed taking things apart so much, but Cody could have certainly made a compelling argument to the contrary just then.
Upon entering, Cody kept his eyes peeled for a familiar crop of regulation-length hair. The cantina was relatively quiet this early in the evening, allowing Cody’s gaze to jump from patron to patron as he searched for the clone.
The man he landed on had hair a little longer than he’d been expecting, no facial modifications like so many clones had, but kind eyes. His civilian clothing gave nothing away, Cody unable to tell if he’d come to the cantina to drink, fight or fuck.
The first time he’d set eyes on Longshot since defecting, Cody hadn’t been able to recognise him immediately, too many faces filed away in his mind, intentionally locked in the dark. This time, however, he recognised him immediately.
Cody let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, shoulders slumping. Not a bounty hunter.
He made his way over, bushing past patrons and servers to reach Longshot’s booth in the back. He had the area all to himself, nursing a mug of something that looked like caf but smelled far sweeter.
“Hey,” Cody said with a smile as he approached the booth. He knew better than to come close without announcing himself first, that mistake being the catalyst for too many fights and arguments during his career.
Longshot turned and positively beamed at him.
“Commander!” He got to his feet, already swooping in for a hug.
Cody rolled his eyes, even as he hugged the other back tightly. He thought they’d moved past ranks by now, but old habits die hard, he guessed. At any rate, Cody certainly recalled how long it had taken him to stop calling Obi-Wan general in private. “I’m so glad I found you! There are three Codys in the city — you’re the only vod I know with such a common name!”
“Yeah A’dden told me you were searching — the purple twi’lek you spoke to earlier? I do jobs for him pretty often.”
“Oh, good to know!” Longshot chirped as he herded Cody into the booth. He allowed the other man to sit with his back to the wall. Cody wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, but he appreciated it regardless.
There was a beat of silence as Longshot allowed him to settle, although he didn’t seem able to contain himself for long.
“So?” Cody raised an eyebrow silently. “How are you getting on? Have you found him yet?”
It hit Cody just then how much he had to say, how much had happened in the rotations since they’d last met. He started, as he often did before telling a story or giving a speech, with a deep breath. Cody was unable to stop himself from smiling. “ Ohhh, you have!” Longshot guessed before Cody could speak, grinning back at him. The other’s smile only grew as he nodded.
“I always will.” Longshot appeared to vibrate with vicarious glee at that.
“Is he as dreamy as you remember?” Cody snorted, though couldn’t bring himself to be irritated by the comment now that he had someone that he could talk to that would understand.
“Yeah but he’s had a rough time of it — I think we all have.” Longshot nodded at that and took a sip of his not-caf. He grimaced.
“‘S cold…” Cody watched as he took another sip. Masochist.
“He’s… isolated.” Cody continued, Longshot nodding along, lips pursed as he continued to drink. “Living in a cave away from town.”
Longshot’s expression reflected his surprise, though he chose not to crack a joke about caves, seclusion and reunion sex as a younger, less mature clone might have done — or Longshot himself might have said before the purge. Instead, he settled on,
“You’re worried about him?” It was more of a statement than a question but Cody took the time to consider it anyway, gaze drifting to the patrons chatting by the bar and the band beginning to set up for an evening of entertainment.
He was worried when he first found Obi-Wan, definitely. Though he wasn’t so sure if he was anymore. The Jedi had seemed happier recently, more settled and willing to talk about both the past and the present in a way he hadn’t been initially. There were still some topics that the both of them skirted over — those first few years after the purge when everything was still raw and at their worst, for example. Cody still hadn’t made peace with the things he’d done but when it came to the day-to-day stuff, Obi-Wan seemed like himself again.
He was having nightmares less often, too, after Cody had woken him up the other rotation. Yes, they still occurred, waking up sweating, but they seemed less intense to Cody’s eyes. He was a light sleeper, however, and woke up every time. Cody wouldn’t have traded it for the world if it gave him the opportunity to drag Obi-Wan from his terrifying dreams and back to safety, though His back hurt from sleeping on the cave floor for so long, even with his nice, new bedroll, but Cody would have rather died than complained.
At length, Longshot waiting patiently, Cody answered,
“No. Not anymore.”
—
The two of them sat together, tucked away in their little booth, for longer than Cody had been planning. He relaxed back into the padded seat as he listened to Longshot talk about his exploits whilst working on the path. Of course, he never mentioned anything specific openly, the both of them too well-trained and conscious of eavesdroppers for that. But he told Cody much of what he did in his downtime — the gossip from the other rebels, who was sleeping with who, who had a child that looked suspiciously like a clone-
That was something Cody had been surprised to hear about. Though, he wasn’t sure why.
It made perfect sense that there were multitudes of clone-offspring running about considering how many clones there were. He guessed the kaminoans hadn’t taken that into consideration when designing them. Or perhaps they simply hadn’t cared.
Cody considered the topic a little more as Longshot went back up to the bar to buy them both a drink. He’d never met the child of a clone, himself, but the more he thought about it, the more stupid he felt for not having considered this earlier.
How many bastard children were out there sharing half of his DNA?
How many kids were without fathers?
Did the 212th ever father any?
Cody imagined they had, and forced himself to leave it at that. Just because he had command of the battalion, that didn’t make it his responsibility. They could never have been his kids, after all.
Women were never much to his taste, anyway.
He was jolted out of his thoughts, quite topically, when someone slid into Longshot’s vacant seat.
A togruta smiled back at him, all teeth, before offering him a hand to shake before she’d even said hello. Too stunned to protest, Cody acted on autopilot and shook her hand, a confused frown clouding his expression.
“Hey handsome — seen you round here before. I was content to just gaze from afar until you moved on but, correct me if I’m wrong, it seems like you’re sticking around a while. So I thought you’d be worth my time enough for me to come and say hi.”
Cody understood what she was getting at, though wasn’t sure how to respond. It seemed a strange opening line whether you were flirting with someone or not. He guessed he should have been flattered, so managed out a stilted,
“Thank you?” What was the best way to get them to leave without seeming rude? Cody didn’t want to make enemies since he was planning on staying for the foreseeable future. “I’m err…” Whilst Cody was every bit the confident commander when he needed to be, this situation was alien to him. He might have spent a lot of time on outer-rim planets, but he’d never actually paid attention to their customs. The last thing he wanted to do was cause offence or make the togruta lash out.
Cody never got the chance to fumble his way out of the situation due to Longshot’s timely return, carrying two pewter mugs filled to the brim with something foamy. Cody could only hope the alcohol content wasn’t too high. He had to drive after this, after all.
Longshot took one look at the togruta and, without so much as breaking his stride, set the mugs down decisively.
“You’re in my seat.” Evidently, he was less worried about causing offence. He held the togruta’s gaze for a moment before turning to Cody. “She bothering you, baby?”
Cody’s initial reaction would have been to scowl and threaten the other with a court-martial, even if neither of them were still serving. Only, when he drew breath to do just that, the togruta got there first, the pet name obviously having worked just as Longshot intended.
She lent back as if burned, her mouth twisting uncomfortably as her gaze flicked between the two clones for a moment. Cody held his tongue and glared right back, as if daring her to make a comment.
Slowly, she slid out of the booth.
“See you around.” No doubt, she’d been trying to think of something smarter, more cutting to say, but either hadn’t been able to or had thought better of it.
Longshot didn’t look away from the togruta until she disappeared back into the slowly growing crowd. Only then did he return to his seat, sliding Cody’s drink closer.
It took all of three seconds for his composure to break and a wide, shit-eating grin to split his face.
Cody levelled him with a look known to make shinies cry.
Apparently, Longshot was well past that point now. Cody regretted insisting the other stop calling him Commander. That was probably what had started off this whole mess.
“You’re a dick.” Was what Cody settled on in the end. They might have been equals now, but that didn’t mean Cody had to stoop down to his level. Longshot only smiled back at him, serene and smug.
“Anger is a good look on you, baby.”
Cody could only huff and glare, knowing that arguing the toss would only make Longshot stand his ground more firmly. He took a deep swig of his drink.
Because really, if one of them had to be the other’s baby, Longshot would be his baby, damn it.
Cody sighed again, more to himself than Longshot. They slipped into a resigned silence for a few minutes before the other broke it again.
“This wasn’t just a social visit, by the way. I have a datastick for the General. It’s from Quinlan.”
“Oh, really? Know what it says?” Longshot only shrugged at that.
“Nothing that would put the fate of the path at risk, so I’m told. Probably just a kind of ‘hello, hope you’re well’ thing… I don’t think he recorded it until after I suggested coming to visit…” Knowing Longshot, he imagined it was less of a suggestion and more of a constant nagging until Quinlan granted him leave.
“Wanna come back with me?” Cody found himself offering. “Stay for dinner and give the General the datastick yourself?” Previously, he might have felt uncomfortable inviting a guest back to Obi-Wan’s cave, but in recent rotations he’d begun to think of it as more their cave. Besides, he thought it might have done Obi-Wan some good to see another familiar face from the past — even if he didn’t know Longshot particularly well during the war.
Longshot’s eyebrows shot up. Perhaps he’d been expecting Cody to take the datastick and deliver it on his behalf. There was a long beat of stunned silence before he finally replied.
“Dinner with the General? I’d love to! Do you think he’d be ok with me coming over? I don’t imagine he likes clones much — apart from you, of course.” He hastened to add.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
—
The two of them stopped by the machine shop on their way back to the cave — Cody’s original destination before he’d been side-tracked. He purchased the extra panelling he’d been after and secured it to the back of the speeder — along with Longshot who took delight in making jokes about clinging to Cody’s waist and making good on his threat of acting like a couple.
They made it back to the cave in good time, well before the first of Tatoonie’s suns had begun to set. As they approached, there was an unexpected spike of nerves in Cody’s gut; though he wasn’t sure why.
He’d already told Longshot about his living situation, but he supposed he was a little shy of it, regardless. As if the other might judge him and Obi-Wan for it. He knew it was an unfounded fear so tried to force it from his mind.
He hoped Obi-Wan would be alright with the company, too, but it was impossible to know. Perhaps he’d actually take it better than his reuniting with Cody — the betrayal was never personal with Longshot, after all.
When they drew up to the cave, Cody brought the speeder to a stop. He allowed Longshot to clamber off first before he wheeled it into the sheltered alcove they used as storage space, stowing it away out of sight.
The butterflies in his chest grew but the other clone didn’t seem to share them. He was quick to shoot Obi-Wan a huge smile and wave when he saw him standing at the mouth of the cave, arms folded and expression carefully neutral. Cody supposed it was the best reaction he could have hoped for, given the lack of warning for Longshot’s arrival.
The younger clone saluted before either men could tell him not to, hand flying up so fast he smacked himself in the temple.
“General Kenobi, Sir!”
Obi-Wan didn’t quite manage to conceal his cringe. Cody thanked the force they were away from curious ears. Such an outburst would have blown their cover immediately, likely resulting in having to go off-planet and leaving Luke defenceless. Cody grimaced too, though he wasn’t sure why he’d expected anything different.
“At ease, soldier.” Cody grunted, speeder now dealt with. He approached and thumped Longshot on the shoulder — hard . The other seemed to remember then, that Obi-Wan was in exile and using a different name, and was wanted by the Empire. Wisely, he didn’t make the same mistake twice.
Instead, he surged forwards. For a moment, Cody half-expected him to bow.
“General,” Still uncomfortable, but an improvement, Cody reasoned. “It’s Longshot from the 212st, I don’t know if you remember me, but it’s good to see you again!” He took Obi-Wan by the hand, grip so tight even Cody was wincing, and shook it vigorously. Obi-Wan stared on, looking a little spooked (though not as much as Cody had feared on the ride over) and allowing himself to be acted upon.
“Just Obi-Wan, please.” Cody was unable to stop himself from snorting at that, joining the pair at the mouth of the cave. He imagined Longshot would take a lot longer to follow that command, seeing how little progress he’d made with Cody’s rank. “Yes, I remember you, Longshot,
I remember all of you, lingered in the room, unsaid, but clearly heard.
A lump made itself known in Cody’s throat. He forced himself not to dwell on the statement, or how much it rang true with himself.
“Right,” Longshot forged on ahead. He was still shaking Obi-Wan’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re safe, Sir — and you got Cody back! I wish I could say what happened and why before, but I know that if anyone else in the battalion was in my place right now, they’d be equally pleased to see you’re alright.”
Obi-Wan only gave a tight smile in response. Cody understood. Longshot was overwhelming at the best of times and too forward for his own good. Whatsmore, he had no idea which topics to steer clear from, not having the same old wounds as the other two.
“That's kind of you to say.”
“And you have a lovely home, too! Cody invited me for dinner, I hope that’s ok?” Finally, finally Longshot released Obi-Wan’s hand. Cody watched as the Jedi moved to clasp them together — a nervous habit remaining from his years wearing thick layers of robes that would hide his hands easily.
He turned to Cody with a raised eyebrow.
“Did he?” Cody swallowed thickly. But before he could apologise or work himself up too much, Obi-Wan smiled — more easily than before. He turned back to Longshot. “It’s a good thing he’s the one that’s cooking then, isn’t it?”
Cody relaxed minutely. He knew Obi-Wan would never have tossed him out on his ass for something so minute but that didn’t stop the fear.
“I’d offer you a tour,” Obi-Wan continued and gestured around the cave. “But you can see it all from here.”
“I’ve spent time in worse places.” Longshot was quick to assure him. “Remember Ryloth?”
“Ah, yes. Not my fondest memory.” He admitted, though Cody was delighted to see he was beginning to relax in Longshot’s presence. “Will you come and sit down?” He invited Longshot inside, gesturing to the small living area they’d cultivated, fitted with a rusting table, two plush chairs that had seen better days (a bargain, though, Cody had been assured), and a three-legged stool. Of course, the pair of them took the chairs, leaving Cody with the stool for when he’d finished cooking, though he didn’t begrudge them that.
He gave the two of them the chance to settle and took the opportunity to turn on the generator and make a start on dinner.
Now that the surprise and excitement had worn off, there was a hesitance in the air, none of them wanting to put a foot wrong and offend the others. It was clear both Longshot and Obi-Wan were trying, though, which was the most important thing.
As Cody went about preparing the food, he watched them out of the corner of his eye. His chest swelled with pride when he noted how polite Longshot was trying to be. If anyone from the 212th had to find them, he was glad it was Longshot.
He listened to their idle chatter as he began hunting for ingredients. There was enough lizard meat for three — Obi-Wan having brought some back from work the day before. It meant they’d have nothing in for tomorrow, but Cody could cross that bridge when he came to it. He found some gourds, too, and made use of their steadily growing collection of seasonings. The longer Cody stayed on Tatooine, the more fond he’d grown of the local spices. Obi-Wan tended to simply cook the bare minimum he needed to survive, taking no joy in it, meaning that Cody was usually the one to cook between the two of them.
He put the meat into their battered steel pan and left it to cook whilst he cut up the gourd, listening to the lilting conversation behind him.
“So it’s been a long time — Cody mentioned you’ve found work with the rebels?” Obi-Wan asked politely.
“Oh yes, I’m enjoying it very much, General.” Cody could sense the Jedi cringe, but neither bothered to correct him. Longshot was being particularly well-mannered, after all. “We’ve been working with the path — getting force sensitives and Jedi new identities.”
“Ah, yes, I’m familiar.”
“That’s why I’m here, actually. Quinlan asked me to deliver this.” Cody glanced behind him to see Longshot holding the datastick out for the taking. Obi-Wan’s eyebrows were raised, mouth dropping open a tad as if he didn’t know quite what to say. Hesitantly, he took the datastick.
As if reading his thoughts, Longshot added, “Nothing bad or urgent, don’t worry! I think he just wanted to say hi — he’s nice like that.” as if Obi-Wan and Quinlan Vos hadn’t grown up side by side from the creche to the battlefield.
There was a note in Longshot’s voice that was more than just admiration. Cody filed it away for later as blackmail material.
There was a long beat of silence, long enough for Cody to turn and check on the pair of them again. Obi-Wan’s expression seemed to be at war with himself, happiness there, but sorrow and grief, too.
“That’s… very thoughtful of him. Thank you both.” The datastick made a home for itself in Obi-Wan’s left breast pocket.
There was a comfortable quiet after that, only the meat sizzling away in the pan and the gentle desert breeze breaking it. Cody turned the strips over with tongs so it cooked evenly on both sides.
“So you and the Commander getting on ok out here?” Longshot asked earnestly. “You don’t know how thrilled I am, how thrilled all of us would be if they knew that you’re back together again!”
There was a collective intake of breath, then. Cody froze, back still turned and unable to see Obi-Wan’s expression. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.
“Oh?” A neutral sound — inviting more elaboration but not necessarily in agreement.
Cody felt like his entire brain had been placed on pause, unable to interject or steer the conversation to a safer topic. Where was Longshot going with this? The vod certainly had a tendency to speak before he thought, but this took the piss.
“Yeah, the most famous couple in the GAR! And that was before I even knew you were official.”
Cody did turn, then. He meant to shoot Longshot a glare, a warning to shut the fuck up , but all he managed was something frozen and startled like a tooka in floodlights. Obi-Wan seemed equally taken aback.
Oblivious to the growing tension in the room, Longshot continued. “And I mean, the way Cody is so devoted to you, honestly, it gave us all hope we could find happiness outside of the military. Since then… well. I know things aren’t the same, but it would warm a lot of vod’s hearts to know your relationship has endured the purge.”
Feeling sick and flighty, Cody had to turn away, then, unable to stomach Obi-Wan’s expression as he no doubt gently explained the truth to Longshot. Because yes, they were friends again, but they hadn’t endured — at least not like the other thought. Cody thought he’d made his peace with that fact, but he didn’t want to be reminded of it if he could help it. He didn’t want Obi-Wan to feel guilty about it, either.
Nor did Cody want to consider the other part of Longshot’s comment — the fact that so many people were apparently rooting for them. He didn’t want to be the poster boy for clone-Jedi relations anymore.
He felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and kept his back to the pair.
Equally uncomfortable and likely being able to sense Cody’s anguish through the force, Obi-Wan gently steered Longshot off topic.
Cody couldn’t pay attention to what they spoke about next, forcing himself to focus on not letting the gourds burn. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears.
He hoped Obi-Wan wasn’t as uncomfortable as him, that old hurts hadn’t been ripped open, bloody and raw, once again. If he was, he did a good job of hiding it, voice as calm and steady as ever behind him. But then again, they didn’t call him The Negotiator for nothing.
Was there anyone still alive who had once called him back? Or was the memory just another ghost of an age long past?
The rest of the time until dinner passed by with no issues. The three of them made polite conversation — mostly about Longshot’s recent exploits and the state of the outer-rim — until Cody declared the food was ready, seasoned to within an inch of its life.
As he served the food, Cody resisted the urge to give the other two bigger portions of his own. This wasn’t a battle situation, he reminded himself. There would be plenty of time to replenish their supplies tomorrow.
Longshot was appropriately gushy about the food, compliments flowing freely, which helped to make up for his earlier blunder, Cody’s mood recovering along with it.
“Wow, Commander, I didn’t know you could cook!” ‘Great,’ Cody thought. He was back to being the Commander again. Cody resisted the urge to sigh. He knew Longshot didn’t mean it maliciously, just trying to be polite and no doubt not completely relaxed around Obi-Wan just yet.
He took a large bite. “It’s good!” Longshot spoke with his mouthful. Politeness for clones and natborns meant vastly different things, Cody knew. Among brothers, Longshot would have been commended for his priority. Around natborns and Jedi, less so. “Maybe the two of you could open up a restaurant! You’d have floods of people coming from all over — coming into Tatooine especially for this!”
Cody didn’t immediately hate the idea. Maybe in another life, when neither of them were wanted by the Empire and trying to lie as low as possible, he might have done it. Sadly, he knew that possibility would never become a reality here.
“We’ll think about it.” He smiled.
“It’s certainly better than mine,” Obi-Wan chimed in. “If I was left to cook, I would have killed us both with food poisoning by now.” Longshot barked out a laugh.
“Forgive me for saying, but that doesn’t surprise me, Sir. You just let Cody focus on keeping you alive — that’s his special talent, anyway.”
—
The meal continued without any more hiccups, Obi-Wan politely offering to host Longshot overnight despite not really having anywhere to put him. Cody was left wondering if Obi-Wan had been willing to offer up his cot if Longshot had taken him up on the offer. He certainly wouldn’t have put it past the Jedi.
Luckily, then, Longshot declined.
“No, no — I should be heading back before it gets too dark. I already paid for a room at the cantina for the next few days…” He stood and made to help Cody who had begun stacking now empty plates and cutlery. Cody grabbed him by the wrist.
“Leave it — we’re the hosts, we clean up.” A natborn rule rather than one linked to clone culture. Plates abandoned, he began to guide Longshot out to the mouth of the cave and his speeder. “Take my speeder, it’ll get you back quicker. I’ll collect it from the cantina in the morning on the eopie.” Longshot only shrugged and took Cody’s beaten-up helmet when it was offered to him.
“As long as you’re sure… Maybe you can drop by tomorrow before I leave?” Longshot sounded unsure, suddenly vulnerable and like a shiny once again. Perhaps he was worried that Cody didn’t want to spend time with him, after all. He didn’t know what had sparked the sudden insecurity, but he moved to soothe it instinctively. Cody came in close and squeezed Longshot’s bicep.
“I’ll come find you in the morning before I head to work.” He stated before drawing the younger clone into a hug. It was tight and secure, just the right side of crushing. Cody felt the other relax into his hold. There wasn’t the same finality to it that their last goodbye had — when Cody had no idea if he’d see Longshot again. This time not only would he seek out the other in the morning, but Longshot knew where he was, now — could drop by whenever he pleased.
Cody found he liked that idea more than he’d been expecting — the idea that friends could just drop by whenever they wished. It had him feeling less alone in the universe, reminding him that there were people out there who cared for him, even now.
“Ride safe.” Cody told him when the clones parted. He watched as Longshot fumbled to put the speeder in gear, unfamiliar with its settings, before raising his own hand in farewell. Carefully, he made his way off into the desert in the direction of Mos Eisley.
Cody watched him until he was no more than a speck in the darkness before turning away from the mouth of the cave. Obi-Wan had picked up where he’d left off, clearing away the dinner things hastily, mouth downturned.
“Hey, let me do that. I invited him here, the least I can do is—”
“It’s quite alright.” Obi-Wan interrupted him, quite uncharacteristically. Cody paused and noted the other’s stiff body language; the tension in his shoulders, the way he wouldn’t look at him. It took him a brief moment to piece things together.
He was still bothered by what Longshot had said earlier, it seemed.
Cody’s insides squirmed as the subject which had long gone unspoken between them raised its ugly, painful head once again. He could only hope that the reminder of what they used to be wouldn’t make Obi-Wan think twice about what they’d become since. Cody didn’t think he’d survive if he’d earned Obi-Wan’s trust back, only for it to be rescinded now.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was going to say all that stuff…” The apology felt hollow, stilted, with too much left unsaid.
“It’s quite alright.” It didn’t seem like it, Cody wanted to scream. “We can’t run from the past. And he was right, wasn’t he?” Cody blinked, nonplussed as Obi-Wan set the dirty dishes down. What was he getting at?
Obi-Wan took a step towards him, rounding the table. “I think you’ve proved your intentions well enough.”
Cody’s heart began to race as Obi-Wan came even closer.
“What do you mean?” When Obi-Wan didn’t reply right away, Cody continued. “Does this mean you forgive me? Completely?”
The Jedi took a deep breath, as if steeling himself.
“I think I forgave you a long time ago… The part you played in the fall of the Republic will always hurt, but neither of us are entirely blameless in that… I don’t think…” He stepped even closer, until he was chest-to-chest with Cody. The clone half-expected Obi-Wan to be able to feel the rabbiting of his heart through his ribs. “I don’t think anyone would begrudge us a little slice of happiness now the fight is over, do you?”
Cody, like Obi-Wan, had always been good with words. Just then, they seemed to fail him, however. A simple ‘yes’ might have sufficed but it didn’t feel like enough.
And so Cody did the first thing that came to mind.
He lifted his hands from where they’d been hanging, limp and useless by his sides, and set them on Obi-Wan’s cheeks tentatively. When the Jedi made no move to push him away, eyes going half-lidded and lips parting a tad, Cody took the leap he’d been dying to take since first setting eyes on the Jedi again, all those rotations ago.
Both men holding their breaths, he lent forwards to slot their mouths together gently.
Obi-Wan was warm — hot flesh and blood beneath his fingertips. Soft eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, a hand, equally tentative, coming up to grip Cody’s elbow whilst another made a home for itself on the clone’s hip. Obi-Wan neither pushed or pulled, simply holding on as he kissed the other back.
Cody pulled away slowly without deepening the kiss, not wanting to push his luck. But then one of Obi-Wan’s hands was moving, sliding through the prickly, cropped hair at his nape before fingers threaded between the longer strands on the top of his head. His grip tightened, tugging pleasantly, and before Cody could so much as draw breath, his lips were being directed back to the Jedi’s.
This kiss was a little harder, more decisive. There was a wounded noise, though Cody couldn’t be sure which one of them it came from. They kissed once, and then again, and then a third time before Obi-Wan allowed him to retreat. He moved just far enough to press their foreheads together, unwilling to be parted from him entirely.
Cody wasn’t sure what exactly he was feeling at that moment, but he knew it was good. The cave felt as if it was spinning, heart thundering in his chest. Despite the elation and endorphins racing through Cody’s blood, he found himself wanting to cry.
When he opened his eyes, he was met with deep ocean-blue, Obi-Wan looking close to tears, too, even as he clung to him. Cody shot him a shaky, watery smile.
“There you are mesh’la…” He choked out, voice hoarse and tongue uncooperative. Obi-Wan let out an overwhelmed sound close to a sob. He nodded with his own shaking smile.
“Here I am.”
Cody wasn’t sure where the two of them went from there. Having Obi-Wan back in his arms once again felt both like donning an old, well-loved jumper but also like making the jump to uncharted hyperspace. All he did know was that whatever came next, he’d never felt more ready to face it.