To be fair, Ahsoka hadn’t known that the pretty girl who she’d wound up talking to at the bar would be the assassin they were looking for. First of all, the whole bar was dark, so Ahsoka couldn’t actually see the assassin’s tattoo, and secondly, their intel had said that the assassin would be small and a human redhead, but Ahsoka had just seen a human girl around her height with a rows of black braids. (Which, now that Ahsoka thought about it, she wondered what that meant for her own height if the assassin was classified as small. Ahsoka didn’t think she was that small.) And thirdly—and this was the most important thirdly, and probably the most embarrassing thirdly, but Ahsoka didn’t think assassins smiled like that. Or made Ahsoka feel flustered and nervous like that, even if they had just known each other for two minutes.
Well. That was all Ahsoka’s fault now, because in the end, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and she had all gotten shot, and even though it wasn’t that bad—it really wasn’t, Ahsoka’s head just felt a little funny from the painkillers—Ahsoka still felt like an absolute moron.
She had been such an idiot.
Such an idiot.
And she couldn’t even understand why.
Actually, that was a lie. She knew exactly why.
And that was weird, too, because—well. Because.
She hadn’t meant to—she really hadn’t, but again. The painkillers were making her less aware of herself than usual, and again. Honestly. She just felt like an idiot.
“Something on your mind, Snips?” Anakin called from the bed across Ahsoka.
Ahsoka lifted her head. Anakin was propped up on the pillows, and though he looked a little dazed—probably from the painkillers too, he was awake. His arm was wrapped in a sling, and he looked a little worn out, but clearly, he was alert enough to catch on whatever frustrations were running through Ahsoka’s head. Which Ahsoka wasn’t sure if she wanted, because everything was so messy, and she wasn’t sure if she really wanted anything to be messy right now—
Ahsoka just groaned again, throwing the pillow over her face.
“What is it?” came Obi-Wan’s tired voice.
Ahsoka winced. She had woken Obi-Wan. That was wonderful.
“Dunno,” Anakin replied. “She’s acting funny.”
“You’re acting funny,” Ahsoka mumbled into her pillow.
“I feel funny,” Anakin said. “Do you feel funny, Master?”
“Feel tired, that’s what I feel,” came Obi-Wan’s mumbled response.
“He feels funny,” Anakin declared.
Ahsoka brought the pillow down from her face and, propping herself up on her elbows, she said, “And I…” She tried to search for the words, but the words wouldn’t really come. “I feel…” She let the rest of her words dissolve into a groan, and she rolled over on her stomach so that she could properly stuff her face back in her pillow.
“’s not a sentence,” Obi-Wan murmured.
“I know,” Ahsoka grumbled. “I know…”
“She’s acting funny,” Anakin repeated.
Ahsoka groaned again, rolled over on her back. She stared up at the ceiling. The fans were slowly turning above her head. She watched the fan spin once, twice, and then she remembered that tattoo on the assassin’s forearm again: she remembered that small flash of skin, and Ahsoka just remembered feeling that cold in her stomach before looking up—
The assassin had smiled again—the same smile she had passed Ahsoka when she had walked into the bar with Anakin and Obi-Wan. The same smile, it turned out, that had drawn Ahsoka to talk to her in the first place.
“Nothing personal, Jedi,” the assassin had said, and then all hell had broken loose.
Ahsoka groaned again.
She heard the creak and squeak of bed springs, and she lifted her head to find both Anakin and Obi-Wan fully sitting up now. They were both looking at her expectantly, and for a moment, Ahsoka didn’t know whether she wanted to elaborate. She probably shouldn’t elaborate. The painkillers would make her terrible at elaborating, really. She didn’t even know how to elaborate when she wasn’t on painkillers, but—
“Girls!” Ahsoka said at last, because she had nothing better to say.
She was met with confused silence.
“Girls?” Anakin repeated.
“I think that’s what she said,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Girls!” Ahsoka repeated, slamming her hands down on the mattress. Her head hurt a little. And her arms felt funny. Like they weren’t quite connected to her body. Stupid painkillers. “Girls! They’re—assassins! And they smile! And they—” She didn’t even grace the rest of the sentence with an intelligible end—she just groaned again, reaching for the pillow.
Anakin, meanwhile, was giving her a funny look. “Did the assassin…smile at you?”
“She smiled at me!” Ahsoka said, frustrated. “And I…” She groaned again, threw herself back against the bed.
She could hear Anakin’s smile in his voice as he asked, “And did you…like it?”
Ahsoka wanted to throw the pillow at Anakin.
To her astonishment and satisfaction, the pillow landed squarely on Anakin’s chest, and even though she hadn’t thrown that hard, Anakin still fell backwards.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Anakin said.
“Girls,” Ahsoka only said. “They’re…” She became only a little too aware then of what she was saying and who—to whom, Obi-Wan would probably say—she was talking to. She jerked back up to a sitting position. “Should I even be talking about this? I don’t know if I should be talking about this.”
“Dunno,” Anakin said, frowning. He tossed the pillow to Obi-Wan, who attempted to catch it. And he did, to Ahsoka’s dull surprise. Or maybe not surprise. She was fairly sure Obi-Wan could catch something like a pillow. “Should she be talking to us about this?”
“I think she should,” Obi-Wan said, dropping his head against the pillow. His eyes closed briefly. “Go on, Ahsoka. Something about girls?”
“And boys! Maybe?” Ahsoka asked, flopping down on her stomach. “Both? Both? It’s…” She scowled. “Confusing.”
“Very,” Obi-Wan agreed.
“I know, right? It’s like—wait,” Ahsoka said, narrowing her eyes. “What do you mean, very?”
“Oh, young one,” Obi-Wan murmured, his eyes still closed, “you can’t possibly think you’re the only one who’s…” He opened his eyes, narrowed them against a spot on the wall. Clearly in search of a word, Ahsoka realized. “Frustrated by both men and women.”
“Girls and boys,” Anakin supplied helpfully.
“Yes, that. Those.” Obi-Wan waved a hand halfheartedly. “Them.”
Ahsoka blinked. Out of every reaction she could have imagined getting from Obi-Wan, this was certainly not one of them. She was pretty sure she could feel her head clearing now at this sudden revelation—but no, her arms and head still felt funny, so Ahsoka could just lay on her belly and stare and stare and stare at Anakin and Obi-Wan and say, “Huh.”
And then, looking at Anakin, Ahsoka asked, “Wait, then Master—what about—”
Anakin flopped forward too, his arms dangling over the edge of the bed. “Absolutely,” he said. He paused. “I mean, when I was little…there was another boy—he was nice. And funny.” Anakin said that all very matter-of-factly, and Ahsoka wished she could concentrate a little more, because her master almost never spoke of his childhood.
“So does that mean…” Ahsoka paused. “Wait, so does that mean that all of us—”
“Swing both ways,” Anakin said. “Like a…pendulum?” He turned his head to Obi-Wan. “’s that a good…comparison? Comparison, that’s what it is—‘s that a good comparison?”
“Mm-hm,” Obi-Wan murmured. He slowly sank back into the bed, his head tilted a little so that he could probably see both Anakin and Ahsoka. “Good job.”
“Thank you,” Anakin said, sounding ridiculously pleased.
Ahsoka felt ridiculously pleased too, although she couldn’t quite understand why. Just that she now sank her chin against her folded hands and looked at both Anakin and Obi-Wan and wondered why she hadn’t known before. She would think that she would. Maybe it made more sense for Anakin to know about Obi-Wan, considering they had spent so many years together, but…
“Wait,” Ahsoka said quickly, jerking her head up, “but how come you two know, and I don’t?”
“Actually,” Obi-Wan said, jerking his head up from his pillow, “how did you know, ‘kin?”
Anakin snorted. “Have a list somewhere,” he replied, turning a little to Obi-Wan. “People you flirt with. ‘s funny. And obvious.”
Ahsoka tried to think. And then she nodded. That much was true.
“I resent that,” Obi-Wan mumbled, turning his face back into the pillow.
“Like Senator Organa…Satine…and Cody…”
“Cody!” Ahsoka gasped, sitting up. “Master Kenobi, I thought I saw you blushing—oh, were you blushing—”
“I was not—and I do not—”
“Well,” Obi-Wan said, sitting up, “if we’re speaking about obvious, then what about…” He rubbed his hand over his face again, snapped his fingers. “Padmé. What about Padmé, Anakin?”
Anakin frowned. Then, tugging back Obi-Wan’s pillow, Anakin said, “That’s mean—you’re being mean—”
“Dunno,” Ahsoka said, resting her chin back up on her hands. “You look funny whenever she’s around, Mas’er. Like you’ve got a…” She tried to wrack her brains for the right words. She’d heard them tossed around amongst the troopers and the holodramas. “Like a big fat crush!”
“Not a crush,” Anakin said petulantly. “She’s like my…not a crush. Definitely not a crush.” His eyes didn’t focus for a moment, and then he shook his head. “Anyways…anyways.”
They all lapsed back into quiet.
And then Ahsoka suddenly said, “I should’ve known.”
“Now you do,” Anakin said cheerfully. He sighed, rolling over on his back.
They all sighed.
And then, Ahsoka mumbled, “Still feel like an idiot though.”
“Pretty sure we all are,” Anakin said.
“Speak for yourself,” Obi-Wan said.
Ahsoka started laughing. Maybe the painkillers were finally starting to catch up to her, or maybe it was just the tone of Anakin’s voice, or maybe it was just the absurdity of the situation, but she started laughing, and in another moment, both Anakin and Obi-Wan were laughing, too.
And at that moment, poor Commander Cody decided to walk into the medbay.
“Cody!” Ahsoka and Anakin chorused, to which Cody just blinked.
“Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan,” Anakin slurred, reaching over to shake Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Look, Cody’s here—”
“Ssh, I know—” Obi-Wan protested, batting away Anakin’s hand.
“I think he’s blushing,” Ahsoka whispered. Or tried to whisper. She realized a second later that she must have actually spoken out loud, because Anakin snickered, and Obi-Wan and Cody both shot Ahsoka a look. (Well, Cody a confused look, Obi-Wan a mildly confused and furious look. Which was a really rather funny look, because Ahsoka had only ever seen Obi-Wan give that look to Anakin.)
Ahsoka grinned and stuffed her face back down into the bed.
She peeked out of the sheets a second later, found Anakin doing the same. His eyes were a little crinkled around the edges, in the way that they always were whenever he was smiling. They both looked at Obi-Wan, whose face was indeed a little pink.
When Cody walked out, they all waited about thirty seconds before they each threw their pillows in opposite directions—Obi-Wan at Anakin and Ahsoka, Anakin and Ahsoka at Obi-Wan.
Idiots, Ahsoka thought as their laughter filled the medbay. They were all idiots. Idiots in ways more than one.
Later, when their arms grew tired and the painkillers forced them back to sleep, Ahsoka managed to look at Anakin and Obi-Wan one last time. They were still laughing a little too, quiet, soft, sleepy laughter that Ahsoka wished she could bottle up and keep for the rest of her life.
Ahsoka settled on smiling at the ceiling fan above her. She had a feeling she might be hearing more of that laughter later.
After all, they were all idiots—they were bound to have moments like these later.
Ahsoka was glad.
She fell asleep.