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Anakin didn’t mean to get in a fight. He didn’t! He meant to have a nice night at the bar with his men, probably drink way too much and get made fun of for being a lightweight, most likely drunk comm Obi-Wan (and maybe Padmé, let's be honest), and then wake up the next morning with a killer hangover.
But some things just can’t be helped.
It started after a successful campaign, one without more casualties than survivors, one that left you with a feeling in your chest like you actually made a difference. These types of campaigns are few and far between, so sue Anakin if he wants to celebrate with his men a little.
It was Fives’ suggestion, and Anakin is nothing if not attentive to his soldier’s ideas.
Anakin was faintly buzzed when It happened. They had just finished a round and it was Rex’s turn to go up and buy them another.
“Fives, move your shebs ,” Rex jabs at his ribs as he climbs over Fives, who is doing his very best to be as unhelpful as possible.
Anakin and the men cheer as Rex approaches the bar, flashing them a rude hand gesture over his head as he goes.
The first few rounds were actually free, paid for by grateful bar goers who recognized The Hero With No Fear and his squadron of men - not all of the 501st wanted to come, and Anakin shudders to think of the nightmare that would ensue if they all could - and decided to send them a few rounds.
That being said, there were still a fair number of them in the corner of the bar. A friendly waitress had helped them put tables together, and Anakin would have to make sure to tip her, especially after Hardcase tried his hand in flirting with her.
Even now, Hardcase is tipping his drink to her and sending her smiles whenever he can. She, at least, isn’t offended and is actually blushing whenever she would meet his eye.
Just after a cold feeling runs down Anakin’s spine, he hears the breaking of glass.
“What the fuck are you and your kind doing here?” A Twi'leki bar goer has Rex crowded against the bar, and by the set of the Captain’s jaw Anakin can tell it’s taking all of his self restraint not to deck the son of a bitch.
The bar goes silent.
Anakin rises to his feet, “Excuse me gentleman,” He slides past the three troopers on his left, “I’ll be right back.”
He doesn’t need to look at the troopers’ faces to know that they’re all watching the interaction like hawks. One wrong move on the Twi-lek’s part, and he’ll have hell to pay.
“Don’t know what you mean sir,” Anakin hears Rex respond tightly, “This is a clone friendly bar, now if you’d step back-”
“Everything okay here, Rex?” Anakin asks, an Obi-Wan worthy false smile plastered on his face, “It’s taking a while to get those drinks,” He carefully sidesteps the broken glasses, “Who's your friend?”
Rex doesn’t look away from the man attempting to pin him against the bar, “Everything’s just fine, sir,” He says stiffly, “Just got a little caught up.”
“Fine,” The man repeats, and Anakin can see spit land on Rex’s face, “It’s fine that these clones can come to bars - a place where I go to relax - and act like they’re one of us?” He jabs a finger into Rex’s chest. In the back of his mind, Anakin wishes Rex was wearing his usual armor instead of the civvie clothes that Anakin smuggled in for his men.
Anakin narrows his eyes and his smile becomes more teeth than anything else, “Why don’t you take a step back from my captain and go back to your seat? We’ll go back to our corner and you’ll never see us again after tonight,” Except in the news when we end the war for your sorry ungrateful ass goes unsaid.
The man bares his teeth, “That’s not happening,” He hisses and points another accusing finger at Rex, “They aren’t even human, and they get to hang around us? I don’t see how you Jedi can stand it! They’re abominations.”
Rex’s face flushes and he finally takes his eyes off the man so he can avert his gaze to the wooden floor. Separatists and droids are easy to face. Just aim your gun and shoot, look after your vod around you. People , on the other hand, are a whole nother beast. There was no training on Kamino on how to deal with just plain cruel people.
Anakin sucks on his teeth and his smile turns into a grimace, “I really wish you hadn’t said that.”
In a move that has to be assisted somehow by the Force, Anakin has his hand wrapped around the Twi’lek’s tie that hangs loosely from his collar and spins him away from Rex before slamming his face down onto the bar with enough force to dent it.
Onlookers gasp in shock, and Rex can hear the muffled cheers of some of the vod . The Twi’lek releases an undignified sound along with multiple curses that would make a pirate blush as his head is pinned firmly against the bar. Blood drips from his nose and his hands scrabble at the General’s (not Anakin’s. The man with fire in his eyes and a mouth twisted into a snarl can’t be called Anakin. He’s the General in this moment, defending his troops.) hand holding him in place.
“Now I think you owe my friend here an apology,” Anakin says quietly, bending at the waist to whisper in his ear.
The Twi’lek releases the General’s wrist to try pushing at the bar, “ Kriff you, Jedi!” He spits out.
Anakin tsk’ s, “That wasn’t very polite,” He scolds, sounding so much like Obi-Wan that Rex has to do a double take.
In a swift move, Anakin kicks the man’s ankles out from under and releases the tie in the same second.
The Twi’lek goes tumbling into a bar stool, splintering it under his weight and sprawling across the sticky bar floor. An onlooker shrieks, and he blinks rapidly at the ceiling. He landed just next to the broken glass.
The friendly smile is back on Anakin’s face as he crouches gracefully near the man’s head. He grins down at the man as though he wasn’t the one to put him there, “I think what you meant to say was, ‘Thank you, Rex! Thank you for fighting for the Republic and expecting nothing in return!’ and then Rex will say to you, ‘It’s no problem, citizen, no thanks necessary!’,” Anakin glances up at Rex and winks before turning back at the Twi’lek, “and then you’ll go even further and say, ‘No, Rex! You deserve it. In fact, I’m sorry for treating you so poorly,’. Got it?” He finishes his little speech with a swift pat to the man’s cheeks.
The Twi’lek blinks up at Anakin, mouth dropped open. He tries to sit up but a firm gloved hand on his chest stops him.
“Got it?” Anakin repeats expectantly, the fake friendly smile still plastered to his face.
And finally, after a heavy silence, “Thank- thank you, Rex,” The man rasps, clenching his eyes shut. The hand applies more pressure, not much but just enough to remind him that he’s not done. “For fighting for the Republic,” The Twi’lek squirms under the hand, “and expecting nothing in return,” The words pain him, and Anakin’s grin turns feral.
“How nice!” Anakin coos and looks up at Rex, “Rex, wasn’t that nice?”
Rex clears his throat and a smile threatens to appear on his face, “Very nice, sir,” He agrees quickly, “And you’re welcome, citizen, no thanks necessary.”
From behind Anakin, the vod are having troubles controlling their laughter. Now that the General has Rex’s back, the vod are free to observe and enjoy.
“Now what do you have to say to him?” Anakin asks carefully, each word slow and emphasized.
The Twi’lek says nothing, just glares reproachfully at the Jedi and trooper. His blue skin flushes purple.
Anakin presses down harder with his durasteel hand at his silence. Will the man have bruises come morning?
“I’m sorry!” The man gasps, trying to bow his back away from the hand, “I’m sorry!”
“That wasn’t so hard was it?” Anakin rises swiftly and slings an arm around Rex’s shoulder, “Sorry about the Rex, now let's get the rest of these drinks to the guys, huh?”
“Sounds good to me, sir,” Rex says, slightly breathless. He looks at his General with a new light.
The 501st’s very own avenging angel.
As they walk back to the table, each of them balancing multiple bottles and glasses (three bottles float through the air after them, perks of being a Jedi), Anakin tosses a quick, “You can bill the Jedi Temple for any property damage!” over his shoulder to the still frozen bartender.
The men cheer and pound their fists against the table as they pass around drinks, each of them clapping Anakin on the back (Fives goes as far as popping a rather sloppy kiss on his cheek) and the General bears it all with a smile, a real one this time.
It’s not until later, when it’s almost last call and some of the men are sloppy drunk, their General the sloppiest of all, that Rex finally speaks up, “Sir-”
“Anakin,” The Jedi interjects with a slur, leaning forward on his elbows to inspect Rex with hazy eyes.
Rex clears his throat, “Anakin,” He corrects himself, “thank you for what you-”
Anakin waves him off with a scoff, “Don’t thank me,” He drops his head onto Rex’s shoulder, “You’re all family. ‘S what family does,”
The more sober vod gape at their General. Rex pretends he doesn’t see Kix’s eyes get misty. He feels his own throat get tight at the drunken confession and he wiggles an arm around the General’s waist, “C’mon, Anakin,” He scoots them towards the edge of the booth, “Let’s get home,”
The Jedi groans at being moved but he allows himself to be tugged to his feet, where Kix brackets his other side to keep him from falling over.
Several of the remaining bar goers shake the troopers’ hands, or express their thanks and even some apologies for what happened. One Rodian even takes a picture with Fives, who’s drunk enough to lob another cheek kiss on her cheek. When drunk, Fives is spectacularly affectionate.
(Hardcase leaves the bar with a napkin that has the waitress’ comm written in neat writing.)
~
It goes without saying that Anakin has to attend a Council meeting early that morning.
He stands in the center of the room, squinting amongst the bright lights with a pounding headache and not regretting a thing. (Anakin could just use the Force to detox his body and get rid of his hangover, but a part of him wants to remember the night in more than just memories.)
“A bill, we received, Knight Skywalker,” Yoda announces, eyes twinkling.
It takes Anakin a moment to comprehend what was said. “Oh,” He replies before realizing, “Oh.”
“Yes, ‘oh,’” Windu leans back in his chair, studying Anakin in a way that almost seems… respecting?
Anakin’s hangover must be worse than he thought.
“Along with a bill,” Obi-Wan speaks up, “There has been footage of you engaging a civilian in a bar fight ,” he raises an unimpressed eyebrow, but his lips are fighting a smile.
Okay, Anakin doesn’t get it. Why isn’t he getting reamed? Regardless, Anakin won’t apologize.
“He said some disrespectful things to my captain,” He responds defensively, mentally preparing himself for what will surely be an argument. He won’t apologize. He won’t stand idly by while his men are ridiculed simply for being who they are.
Yoda hums thoughtfully, “Grounded, you have been,” He cuts right to the chase. “Suspended for two weeks, you will be,” His eyes have not lost their spark of mischief.
“That’s-” Anakin cuts himself off to really think about what the Grandmaster said. That’s not that bad. Anakin definitely expected worse. No missions for two weeks? That almost sounds like a vacation. “What about the men?” He asks instead.
“On leave,” Windu answers, “They fought hard on your recent campaigns. They deserve it.” He raises an eyebrow with his next words, “They’re on leave for two weeks.”
Two weeks? It’s almost like-
Oh.
Anakin’s mouth falls open, the gears turning his head. He glances at Obi-Wan, who just nods his head once.
“I see,” He says carefully, a disbelieving smile working its way onto his face, “Two weeks is a… long time,” Anakin hopes he’s reading the room correctly.
“If spent correctly,” Windu actually agrees with him.
Yoda taps his gimmer stick against his chair, “Dismissed you are, Skywalker,” he announces, ears flicking.
Anakin bows respectfully, “Thank you, masters.”
As he leaves, he sees Plo Koon flash him a very subtle thumbs up while Kit Fisto openly grins at him.
“Beautiful the beaches in Naboo are,” Yoda suddenly calls after him, and Anakin whirls around to face him again.
The whole Council regards him with some like approval in their eyes. Obi-Wan even looks proud.
“Y-yes, Master Yoda,” Anakin agrees, stumbling over his tongue before practically sprinting out of the Council room.
As he sprints walks back to his quarters, he comms Rex.
“Yes, General?”
“Rex!” Anakin grins so wide his face hurts, “You and the boys ever been to a beach before?”
Rex pauses, “Uh, no. No sir.”
Anakin pulls a good sized bag out of his closet. Two weeks is a long time, he has to make sure he has enough clothes. (He’ll purposely pack less clothes than needed just for an excuse to visit a certain Senator of Naboo to grab clothes that he has stashed there. For mission related purposes, of course. No other reason.)
“They’ve got so much sand. You and the men are gonna hate it. I’ll be by to pick you all up in twenty minutes.”
Anakin, for the first time in his life, can’t wait to see the sand.