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1: Hunt
Mace looked around the would-be battlefield, a dawning sense of unease cloaking his mind. The men were setting up tents, barracks, shelter. The food transports weren’t showing up, not anytime soon, and everyone was on edge from hunger, himself included. He’d given the rations he saved to Skywalker’s Captain.
Skywalker was out getting berries, or trying to; Mace didn’t think any of the stuff here was edible to normal humanoids, other than Skywalker himself. Though he might not count as a normal humanoid, come to think of it.
Mace watched the campsite a while longer, before comming Ponds.
“Sir?”
“You and Tano are in charge, I’m going hunting.”
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It wasn’t that difficult, actually. Harrun Kal was a dangerous planet, and given that Korunni ate meat, hunting was second nature to him. He wouldn’t use his lightsaber, since charred meat wasn’t nearly nutritious enough for an army, but that wouldn’t slow him down much.
He walked near-silently through the forest, trying his best not to disturb the animals. He saw a few small ones, but couldn’t bring himself to take them. Call him soft, but he couldn’t hurt something that had no chance of fighting back.
But that’s clearly not an issue, he thought, as he became aware of something stalking him. It wasn’t dangerous enough to be a sith, and nowhere near familiar enough to be one of the men. And as he poked it with the force, he got the distinct feeling it was predatory.
Perfect.
He walked under a branch, and it pounced.
He jumped forward on instinct, surprising the creature. Turning around, he saw it, something distinctly feline, with nine inch fangs and claws that were longer on the front than the back. It reared back, before trying to attack again, and Mace rolled to the side.
Its tail snapped back and forth as its eyes tightened, trying to deduce if Mace would be worth the fight. He definitely wasn’t.
But it was.
Mace shot forward, aiming for the neck, missing by a hair as the creature reared to the side, the deep violet of its skin glistening in a patch of sun. He landed on the balls of his feet and jumped again, a bit above it. It tried whipping him out of the way, but he grabbed one of its ears before using the force to snap its head to the side sharply. It inhaled to roar, for help or out of pain, Mace didn’t know. But he bit its jugular before it could do either.
It slumped to the jungle floor, and Mace held on for a minute more, to ensure it was truly dead, before he let it go. He could feel blood pouring out of his mouth, down his chin and neck, soaking his previously white undershirt. He swallowed the excess, and tried to wipe some off his face, but there was too much, and all it really did was push it around and cover his hands too. He took a minute to wonder what he was going to do when he got back to the campsite, before deciding he could worry about that later. He needed about four more of these things to account for all the men.
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Mace had eight more.
He hadn’t planned on extra, in fact he thought he’d have to ration the food out, but they apparently hunted in packs, and the first one he found was an outlier. Or he stumbled on a den. But either way, he’d need some help getting all of them back. He’d commed Anakin his coordinates, but the knight hadn’t shown up ye-
“HOLY HELL ARE YOU OKAY!?” Skywalker yelled, dropping his pack and running to Mace, trying to grab his arm, before it slid off. He’d forgotten how much blood was on him, too caught up in the hunt to notice, but he realized now that it was pouring off of him like a waterfall, enough that even his clothes were slippery, pooling around his boots and around where he was standing like a lake. His shirt and pants were soaked, probably dyed red forever, and his boots were most likely ruined. There was blood of varying dryness down his face, mainly his mouth and chin though. All of it was dripping.
He was briefly surprised he’d forgotten about it so quickly- it hadn’t even been two hours- but he figured he should clear the confusion before Skywalker commed the medics.
“Anakin, I’m fine,” The knight’s brows knit in confusion, “it’s theirs.” He pointed to the pile of animals a few feet away.
Anakin followed his finger, before stumbling back.
“Oh- Oh my fucking force, you’re insane.”
Mace rolled his eyes.
“No, you’re literally crazy. You killed all those things!? How?! I don’t see any lightsaber burns!” He circled around the pile, frantically looking for something he would not find.
“I didn’t use my lightsaber, charred meat tastes awful. I used my teeth.” He resists the urge to say like a normal person, since he knows most people would disagree with the sentiment. Most notably Plo Koon, who had been very disapproving when Mace had hunted for him on previous missions.
Anakin looked back at him like he had two heads. Which was fair, he didn’t think Obi-Wan ever explained the difference between human and human passing to him, and humans don’t do this stuff.
Skywalker shook his head, muttering something about ‘masters who have no forcedamned sense’ (which was pretty kriffing rich coming from him, to be honest) before lifting up four of the cadavers.
While they walked back to camp, Mace briefly contemplated whether he’d have to explain this to Ponds.
He really hoped not.
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“Mace.” Ponds started, massaging his temples, “you have exactly five minutes to explain what the fuck you were thinking. Starting now.”
Mace would really like to do this somewhere else, considering he was still dripping blood (now unpleasantly cold and sticky), and that many, many, of the men were staring at the two of them, but he supposed it was understandable.
“Food rations were delayed, I didn’t want anyone to starve, meat is more nutritious than” he gestures to Anakin, a few inches to his left, “whatever he found, and I’ve killed bigger.”
Ponds stared into his eyes, and Mace stared right back. Someone coughed. Ponds sighed.
“I understand that, I just wish you would’ve used your weapon.”
“Charred meat tastes awful.”
“That’s not the point-”
“I HAVE BERRIES LET’S MAKE WINE!” Anakin yelled, effectively distracting the men.
While they filed away, Ponds took Mace into the main tent. It was bigger than the others, which pissed Mace off enough that Ponds started sharing with him. He grabbed a rag- a black one- and started wiping off his lower face, the cloth dragging against his lips.
He really was fine, but Ponds insisted on checking him over anyway. Mace didn’t go to medbay unless he really had to, the aura of pain radiating in the force was intense there. As he checked Mace's left arm, he sighed. Again.
“If you’re going to berate me, you should get to it already.” He whispered, staring out at the moon. You could never see Coruscant's moon through all the lights. Mace can’t even remember if it has one.
Ponds picked the rag back up and slid it across the bone under Mace’s eye. “I’m not going to. You just scare me, running off into the woods and coming back hours later, covered in blood, and you didn’t keep me updated, like you do in battle, and-” he wrung out the rag, the red tinted water flowing into the soil beneath them. “I understand that you were worried about the men.” He looked into Mace’s eyes. “But I worry about you.” Ponds blew a breath from his nose. “We all do.”
Mace glanced at Ponds. He was focusing on Mace’s other arm, the deep pink of the moon casting dramatic shadows across his face. It was so bright that it almost hid the mark on Ponds’ face- under his eyes, diamonds streaking down to his neck, where there’s a necklace of them,- in its light.
Mace looked away again, his eyes finding the forest.
He wished they were higher. There was more cover in the trees.
Ponds finished wiping the blood from his arms, and moved to his neck, where it was drier. His face was clean already, so it didn’t have blood constantly dripping onto it.
Ponds ran the rag gently across his nape, before moving carefully to the front. Korun could be very defensive there. Mace merely lifted his chin.
It was strange to have something touch his throat. When he and Qui-Gon would spar (when they were about fourteen, before they started growing apart) he’d wear a spiked collar to deter him from trying to choke him out (though it only worked about half the time), but other than that, nothing touched his throat. Even Plo didn’t touch him there, one of his closest friends, but Ponds was different. He was always different.
Ponds ran the cloth down to the dip in his collarbone, maybe letting it linger for a moment, his eyes tracing his pulse, before he took his hand away- slowly, letting the tips of his fingers drag across Mace’s skin- and submerged the rag in the water once more.
They don’t talk about it.
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2: Sleep
Ponds was tired.
He was usually tired, but that didn’t really change the feeling. He hated being tired. He hated the heaviness in his bones, the warmth when he closed his eyes. He hated drinking enough caff to power a meg. He hated knowing that he’d be tired tomorrow, and he hated knowing there was nothing he could do to fix it.
It’d been days. The battle was hard, they lost twenty men. Skywalker might lose a hundred per mission, but for the 91st, it was different. They barely ever lost ten troopers.
He was trying to finish this fucking form, but his eyes kept unfocusing. His brain felt like it was physically lagging, and none of the words looked like words. He knew what they said, but at the same time, he didn’t. He kept skipping sentences, the vowels sounded like how melted honey felt in his mind, and the word “troops” didn’t look like a word anymore. His elbow was pushing against the desk roughly, the quasiplast leaving indents on the skin under his blacks. The pad was light- very light, actually, he didn’t think-
“Ponds,” His general said from behind him, Ponds’ pad in his hands, “go to bed.”
Ponds blinked, attempting to make his vision focus. He couldn’t quite manage. Mace was over his shoulder, looking at him, worry fused into the planes of his face, wrinkling his brow. He wished Mace would worry about him less, but that’s like wishing Coruscant had trees. You can’t change something that’s existed before you were made.
“I have to finish the reports.” He blinked again, and held his breath from the sting. “Sir.”
Mace pressed his lips into a line. Ponds knew Mace was right, he knew he couldn’t keep going like this, but- he had to get these reports done. He just had to.
“It’s imperative.” It wasn’t even a lie- it was imperative for him to get these done. By the end of the week. It doesn’t matter that it’s only Centaxday.
“Alright.” Mace sat down across from him. “I’ll stay up and do them with you then.”
… what.
“Sir-” he started, before Mace interrupted.
“You said it yourself. These documents are imperative. They have to get done.” He picked up the padd next to Ponds. “It’ll go faster with two of us.”
The words were innocent enough, but Ponds could hear the challenge clearly. If you self-destruct, I will too. It’s rash, reckless, endangering, and Ponds is a bit disappointed in the fact that he didn’t realize Mace would do it. It’s just who he is.
It’s borderline blackmail, too, but, as Kenobi would say, only from a certain point of view.
“Fine.” He (yawned) sighed. “I’ll sleep. But you have to as well. And you have to eat breakfast tomorrow.”
“Deal.” Mace responded. Ponds pretended not to see the smile in his eyes.
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3: Protection pt 1
The battle is going… fine.
The men had gotten over half of the clankers out of the way. It was going normal. But it was damn tiring. Ponds ducked behind a crate, because of course they were in a warehouse, before flipping his vambraces comm on.
“General Windu, location?”
“Next to you.” Says a voice from in front of the crate, before Mace jumps behind as well.
At least this time he’s avoiding blaster fire, which was a minor miracle itself.
“We need to get to the next room to hack the computer, we’re out of range.” It was much easier said than done, given the sheer number of clankers firing. As bad as they were at, well, everything, the overwhelming amount has a tendency to make things harder than they should be.
Mace cursed under his breath, which was much more common than Ponds originally thought, and deflected a bolt into a droid's head. “What are the chances the men don’t freak out if I punch their heads off?”
Ponds looked him dead in the eye and replied "Negative fifty.”
“Damnit.”
Ponds grimaced as well, but didn’t feel that bad about it. Mace had done that once before, and only once, as the men apparently had a good few heart attacks because of it. As annoying as it was to not have the option, there wasn’t much to be done about it.
Mace looked over at the droids. And then at Ponds.
And he jumped back into the fight.
“General- fucking hell-” He ran in after him. Because what else was he supposed to do? Not help him?
Mace was deflecting the bolts fine, but seeing him run directly into blaster fire still raised Ponds’ blood pressure to a level Pep probably wouldn’t approve of. He didn’t approve of a lot of things, though, so it’s fine.
There were about thirty in the front alone, and Ponds wasn’t a Jedi, he couldn’t block bolts the same way, but none of them seemed to go near him, so it’s fine. It’s completely fine.
Mace ran through the droids, slashing most of them in half, before reaching for Ponds with the force and pulling him through the door. He remembered when Rex first saw it, how much he’d yelled about Skywalker just tossing him with no warning or care.
Mace turned to Ponds, probably to see if he got hurt, and then-
Ponds shoved Mace out of the way of the grenade- which they didn’t even know the clankers had- and covered him. He had better armor than Mace, it could take more-
And it did. The explosion was loud, but that was the extent of the damage. It seemed like a kamikaze bomb, none of the droids had survived either.
“Ponds are you okay?” Mace asked frantically. Ponds just sighed.
He was getting a talking to after this mission, he could feel it.
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4: Water
“How long have we been here, again?” Ponds asked, watching Mace cut down more ferns. They were adventuring, trying to find whatever temple is on this planet. Ponds had just sent the ‘nothing yet’ update to the men back at the base. Again.
“A month.”
Ponds lifted a branch from his face. “Right. And… how much longer do we have to be here?”
Mace looked back at him. “Two months.” He was smiling, the bitch.
Ponds restrained a sigh, following him deeper into the jungle. These missions were a break from the constant fighting, but they went on long enough that they were still awful. Kenobi and Cody were holed up at base, though. He definitely didn’t envy them.
Mace’s head snapped to the side, and Ponds grabbed his blaster.
“No, stand down, it’s water.” Mace says, and Ponds breathes again. Korun hearing is even better than the Clones, if Mace said it was nothing, it was nothing.
“Why didn’t you hear it before?”
Mace glances at him. “It was just background noise before, but a branch fell in it, it surprised me.” He looks back, and sniffs the air. “It’s warm, maybe a hotspring.”
Ponds grabs his canteen, and smiles. “Well, hot means it’s clean, right?”
“It’s certainly safer than anything else we’ll find.” Mace replies, cutting the weeds to the side.
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They filled up their canteens, all fourteen of them, before Ponds started getting rid of his armor, with Mace following suit. The jungle wasn’t extremely warm, and they weren’t dirty, but a warm soak still helped.
And it was warm, bordering on hot, just the right temperature. The fog that surrounded the spring washed over them, a blanket of seclusion, far away from the war, or the sith, or even the base. There was a strip of moonlight, and lantern bugs flying about. It seemed almost out of a storybook.
They were- probably closer than what counted as normal. He couldn’t always tell. Honestly, he kind of thought he wasn’t close enough.
Ponds risked a glance at Mace. He was lying on some conveniently-shaped rocks, his eyes closed. The pale green soulmarks on either side of his mouth trailing to where the rest were finally visible. There were more on him than Ponds. Maybe it was a Koronni thing. They trailed down his chest, over two matching scars, down until the water obstructed his view and he couldn’t see anymore. He wondered if there were any on his thighs, or-
Ponds looked back toward the waterfall, safer territory than his wandering thoughts. Focusing on the highlights in the water. It was less blue than Kamino. More toward purple, maybe pink. The trees were pink too, but they were darker.
He heard a yawn, and glanced back at Mace. Mace wiped his eyes, opening them to look at him. Mace’s pupils reflected the light, looking almost as green as Naboo.
“What time is it?”
Ponds glanced at his comm.
“2200.” He said, vaguely surprised. There’s. There’s no way he’d been staring that long.
Mace blinked in surprise. “Hm. I didn’t realize I was asleep so long.” He whispered, quiet enough that Ponds shouldn’t hear it, but he did, and he was looking into his eyes, and they were closer, somehow, so much closer than how they’d started. Mace seemed to notice about the same time he did, drawing in a trembling breath. Ponds could see every shade of brown in his eyes, could see their lids slide down. His face was shining, his skin giving a pink hued highlight from the water, droplets clinging to his lashes, and Ponds leaned-
The comm chirped, startling them both, and it was gone.
They dried off, got dressed. Answered the comm.
They didn’t talk about it.
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5: Protection pt.2
Mace and Ponds ran across the plains, through the wildflowers. They were running from Kenobi’s sith, and he was pissed about something, because he wouldn’t just give up already. They ran through a stream, lightly disturbing the fish and bugs, before Mace made a beeline for the trees, Ponds following suit. Maul didn’t know what subtlety was, if they had cover they’d get away easily.
The forest was dense and ripe with life, and Mace wasted no time pulling Ponds up into the trees and running across the branches instead. He was insanely light on his feet, crossing miles with ease.
Then he stopped.
“Gen-”
“Shh.” Mace whispered. “There’s something here.”
Ponds glanced at their surroundings, but it was dark. There wasn’t much to go off of, at least for him. Mace could see just fine.
His face shone in the spots of light, from the breaks in the leaves. It made him look like he was glowing, like something divine. It reminded Ponds-
Mace’s head snapped over, looking behind Ponds, and his pupils noticeably shrank, which was rare enough that Ponds was on edge. He froze, letting Mace do… whatever it was he was going to do.
Mace slowly reached out, hiding Ponds behind him. He was facing the thing now, bright yellow with neon purple eyes that glowed, and its nose was big enough it could probably smell them miles away. The teeth were almost a foot long, and sharp.
It was looking at Mace, but snapped its gaze to Ponds, drooling a bit.
A low growl, dark and threatening, tore its gaze from him. The thing snarled at Mace, and he narrowed his eyes.
The creature seemed to hesitate, looking between the two of them, before lowering its head.
Mace’s eyes softened, and he grabbed some meat from his pack, tossing it at the creature, which caught it happily.
“It’s… not going to kill us, right?” Ponds asked, watching the creature chew at the snack.
“Not anymore. Come on.” He led Ponds through the trees once more, until they were at the edge of the field where the cruiser was, when he stopped him.
“I’m sorry that happened.” He looked so earnest, and Ponds was so confused.
“Predators are predators, General, and the cat probably would’ve killed me if not for you.”
Mace furrowed his brows.
“It didn’t… scare you?” Mace asked, and the little dots in Ponds’ head finally snapped together.
“General, you don’t scare me at all.” He hadn’t realized it was Mace growling at it, but he frankly didn’t care either way. He wasn’t dead, and neither was Mace, or the cat, and that’s honestly a lot more than he expected.
Mace nodded, seemingly not wanting to speak, so Ponds just took his arm and led him to the ship.
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6: Disguise
Mace was cold.
“I just don’t get why it has to be me!” Anakin said through the door, and Mace adjusted the rose gold chain on his stomach. Fuck he was cold. He tugged a bit on the pink fabric coming from his cuffs- attached to the bands on his arms- and Ponds took his hand to stop him.
“It’s alright.” He whispers, voice changer crackling. Mace was hidden out in a room of the Resolute, and he was in disguise. Barely. He could feel every shift of the air, given there was more jewelry than fabric. Way more jewelry. There wasn’t much fabric. He was going undercover, they were busting a slave ring, one of Jabbas. He was dressed to fit into what Jabba would usually… buy.
“Mace.” Ponds startled him from his thoughts. “I can hear you thinking. We can tell the Council if you aren’t comfortable.” They couldn’t. It was too late. There was no one else. Maybe yesterday, he could’ve backed out, but he was on the ship, in the outfit. There was nothing to be done.
“If it makes you feel better, they don’t know it’s you.”
Mace’s head snaps to Ponds.
“What.” He whispers through the fabric covering his mouth.
Ponds glances away.
“I’m not supposed to tell you, so act like you aren’t aware, but they don’t know it’s you. It’s why they hid us in here. They just think the Council grabbed a random actor. Even Skywalker doesn’t know.” He glances away. “Since you're not supposed to talk, it was a way for it to seem more real.”
So… they didn’t know it was him. They didn’t know who he was. It… actually helped. The outfit somehow felt less revealing, the chains less restrictive. He was basically anonymous, other than Ponds.
He was glad. It’ll make this whole thing easier.
Kenobi seemed to have convinced Skywalker- who’d be the one ‘selling’ him- that he didn’t have a choice, because the door unlocked. Ponds grabbed his mask and hat, and- they probably didn’t know who he was either.
Which explained the voice changer, actually.
Mace directed his gaze down, unsure how well Skywalker knew his face. Kenobi knew, he was on the Council, after all, but maybe it was Anakin who opened the door. Mace was sure he’d hate to see him.
Ponds got up the same time he did, holding the chain that went to his collar. Surprisingly, the restraints were the parts he had the least issues with.
“Karking hell.” He heard a trooper mutter when they walked into the hanger. Mace was kind of glad he got the warning from Ponds, since he now knew that was directed at the situation, not him specifically.
“That’s..” Anakin whispered. “... Very… accurate. Uh. Realistic. Where did you get the outfit.”
Mace didn’t say anything, just looked at him through his eyelashes. Anakin was white as a sheet, and definitely didn’t know it was him. There wasn’t enough shock for that.
“What does it matter?” Asked Ponds, the crackling of the changer putting everyone even more on edge than they were before. “We got it. The auction’s starting in an hour, we gotta get down there.”
Anakin swallowed, nodding. “Rex, Cody, Hunter, come on.” He says, reaching to take the chain from Ponds, not noticing Mace stiffen.
Right. He’s going to be Anakin’s responsibility. He won’t be with Ponds down there, he’ll be with Skywalker, and force knows what’ll happen-
“The sellers don’t usually hold the chains, Jedi.” Ponds’ voice was dark, more growly than normal, even with the changer on, and the air in the room stilled. Everyone was on edge, now. Well.
Everyone but Mace.
Ponds wasn’t intimidating to him. It was actually kinda sweet.
Anakin nodded curtly, before motioning for the others. Hunter was from Clone Force 99, if Mace remembered correctly. They’re the ones that alerted the Council to what was going on. It makes sense that he’d be joining. Cody made sense too, given that he was a commander, but there was no way he needed three guards, so what was Rex doing here? Maybe he was for Anakin.
They got onto the shuttle, and Ponds buckled him in, making sure none of his jewelry caught. It was nice, that he cared that much. Mace hadn’t even thought about it.
Hunter gave him a sideways glance, but focused more on Ponds when he sat down.
“So. Are you and,” He gestured toward Mace. “The pretty one,” Pretty? What? “Used to this kinda stuff?”
Ponds looked over.
“This kinda stuff?”
Hunter shrugged, “Y’know, like, improv? Or is he in holofilms?”
Right.
Actor.
Mace decided to tell the truth, but made sure to change his voice just enough so they wouldn’t recognize it. “Theater, actually.”
Rex turned to look at him, smiling. “Really? I like theater too, mostly musicals.”
“I was in Greatest Showman once.”
Rex looked like he was going to respond, but the shuttle touched down, and it was showtime.
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They’d brought him to a separate room, redoing his eye makeup, before removing his mask. He’d tensed up, but none of them recognized him, so it was fine. The lipstick they put on him blended well with his skin, and the gloss they put over it wasn’t sticky, and even had some glitter in it. They put glitter over most of the rest of his body too. If it were any other situation, he’d think he was being pampered. Now it just made him feel sick.
He was waiting in yet another room, and Ponds was (thankfully) with him. Cody was outside, and Rex was in fact with Anakin. He might be shaking. He wasn’t sure. Mace was glad they’d gotten Anakin away when they did, he was young enough he didn’t have to go through any of this. He hoped he wouldn’t start crying.
Ponds took his hands again, and Mace looked up at him. Ponds gently lowered the mask, and he felt the cool air hit him.
“This is an awful situation.” Mace couldn’t agree more. “But… if nothing else…” he gave a small smile. “You look even more gorgeous than usual, done up like this.”
Mace’s eyes widened, and he might’ve said something, but Ponds put the cloth back over his face, grabbed the chain, and led him out the opening door.
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The sand was rough against his ankles, the grains large and painful, scratching against his skin. Nothing like the beaches at Naboo, where it’s softer, more gentle, like a massif’s fur. He didn’t blame Anakin for hating it. He might’ve too, if he was thinking of anything other than Ponds’ words.
Gorgeous, he’d said.
Even more gorgeous.
He… would unpack all this later. Now wasn’t the time to be freaking out over love. Not love. Totally not love. Just.. either way, now isn’t the time.
Anakin was saying something, he wasn't sure what, but he was in the middle now, and Jabba was answering in a language he didn’t speak-
“Lord Jabba would like to see the product’s face.”
Mace’s blood froze.
He probably should’ve expected that, but he didn’t think that far ahead. The outfit went back to being too little, the chains too heavy, everything too much. Anakin said- something in affirmative, he thinks, and turned back to him.
He reached for Mace’s mask.
And Mace closed his eyes.
He could feel when it was pulled off of him, falling to his neck covering the collar.
He could also feel the absolute shellshock in the force, the clones and Anakin all recognizing him at once.
He didn’t open his eyes.
After a moment Anakin kept talking. Same bravado, same words. But Mace could feel how Anakin was feeling, could see through the act, how he was shocked, mortified, disgusted.
Mace wasn’t surprised.
Jabba responded to something Anakin said, and suddenly the plan was put into action.
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Mace was back in front of the Council, having just finished his report with Skywalker, when Anakin Spoke up again.
“Why did you do that.”
Everyone was quiet for a second, before Kit spoke up.
“Do what?”
“You didn’t tell us what was happening at all. We thought this was an infiltration-” What. “And that you were having someone be actually sold.”
What.
Mace looked back at the Council.
“You didn’t tell him it was a bust?” He didn’t quite know how he was feeling, but it sure as hell wasn’t nice. “First, you didn’t tell them it was me- which I found out from Ponds- and then you didn’t even tell them the actual mission?” He sounded calm. He was nat calm.
He was actually the very opposite of calm. He might throw something.
Anakin looked at him, and then the rest of the Council.
“And he didn’t know either?”
Yoda seemed almost bored as he answered.
“Determind it was best, we did. In private, it was discussed.” He looked at Mace. “Supposed to tell you, Ponds was not.”
“Ponds telling me is the only reason I didn’t do something extremely ill advised, Master.” Mace was probably a bit too close to anger right now. He didn’t really give a damn.
“I told you all it was not a good idea.” Well.
At least Plo still had some sense.
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“Are you okay?” Mace looked over his shoulder, at where Ponds was.
“Why wouldn’t I be.”
Ponds sat down next to him, their shoulders brushing. The top parts of his armor were off, other than the vambraces. The shirt of his blacks stretched over his chest, the sunset and city lights making it look as orange as fire.
“Three things actually. You’re sitting alone, on the roof of the temple, you forgot to wash your makeup off-” Fuck he forgot about it completely. “And you just found out a bunch of your closest friends were lying to you.”
Mace looked at him again, before sighing.
“You got me.” He looked into the distance again, before remembering something else.
“Did you mean it?”
Ponds audibly took a breath.
Gorgeous.
“I did.”
Mace thought he might be crying.
“I’m sorry.” Ponds said, wiping something off his cheek, black mascara staining his knuckles, dragging pink glitter across his skin.
“No, no-” He took Ponds’ wrist before he could leave. He thought he might die if he left, that it would finally be the one thing that killed him after everything that’d happened. “I’m happy.”
He heard Ponds take a shuddering breath next to him, threading their fingers together.
“You are?”
Mace turned to him, smiling.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Ponds laughed, before taking the back of his neck and pulling him in.
His lips were warm, a little chapped from the dehydration. His mouth was warmer, and he tasted like army rations, like battle, a bit like blood from a cut, but most of all, he tasted like hope.
And when they pulled back, their marks were mixed.
They stopped for a few seconds. Neither of them had thought…
“Where did you even see this color of green?” Mace asked, and Ponds smiled.
“Your eyes, in the dark.”