Not Even Death

All for Seven

There's a speaker in the corner playing Sabine's favorite band, a hypno-tech group from Coruscant. Sabine stares at her hard work with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face as I enter the nursery with two trays of food.

"Ezra!" she shrieks taking a tray from my hand, "thank goodness. I don't remember eating breakfast."

I chuckle. "That's because you didn't."

Sabine kicks art supplies and stuffed animals out of the way as she drops to the floor and digs in.

"What would I do without you?" She asks between bites of sandwich as I follow her lead and sit down.

I pretend to think long and hard as I scratch my chin, "What an interesting question... Probably die of boredom and loneliness and starvation."

"I was thinking more along the lines of I probably wouldn't kiss you for making my lunch but cool..."

I pause mid-bite, "But you didn't kiss me?"

Today, Sabine's lipstick is deep purple to match her new hair color; well, she calls it plum but whatever. Those purple-plum lips turn up in a half-smirk. "No, I haven't kissed you yet."

"I like where this is going."

"So do I because I can convince you to hang the last of the decorations."

The weeks following my return have been such a rush. Sabine and I stay up late into the night sharing music, art, jokes, and long kisses. Even though Zeb moved out to help Rex with the training initiative, I spend almost every night in Sabine's room curled around her strong frame listening to the sound of her breathing. I don't know what to call this yet, but perfect will just have to do.

Spectre Seven's welcoming party is tomorrow and that's all Sabine can talk about. She's locked herself in the nursery for the past four days making sure everything little detail is perfect. I've made myself useful carrying heavy supplies and hanging the higher objects, but most of the time I try to say out of the way.

"Okay, ready to get to work?" my Mandalorian asks with a glint of excitement in her eyes.

I feign a sigh, "I suppose..."

*

"Why does this taste so bad?" I whisper to Sabine behind my glass.

"Because I made your drink to match Hera's," she replies while keeping her eyes on the happy couple as they open beautifully wrapped packages.

"You left out the good stuff?" I pout.

Sabine rolls her eyes dramatically. "I just didn't want you stripping in front of Hera's friends and family."

My face burns at the memory from two weeks ago when Sabine and I broke into Zeb's private cabinet. I mean I don't actually remember much, but Sabine filled me in.

"Oh come on! That was one time!"

But my protests are lost as Sabine stands and makes her way to the front of the room where Kanan has opened the last gift — the sixth blanket of the day. "Ladies, gentlemen, and beloved friends, I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for your support and kindness as Kanan and Hera celebrate new life and family. On behalf of the happy couple, I would like to invite everyone into the cargo bay where we have cake and lots of chocolate covered meilooruns. Thanks, you guys!"

She's even cute when she's being all official.

Guests begin making their way out of the common room towards the cargo hold, but I watch Sabine gesture Kanan and Hera towards the cabins. I can see the disappointment on Hera's face; she really likes her meiloorun.

I guess that's my cue. I follow close behind, and Zeb and Chopper join in.

When we're all gathered around the entrance to Kanan's old room, Sabine makes another crowd winning speech, "So, before I show Hera the results of my blood, sweat, and tears over the past few months and she describes them to Kanan who's totally ignored all of my do-not-enter treats," we all snicker, "I wanted to make a special toast to you Spectre Seven. You don't know it yet, but you're the luckiest kid in the whole galaxy. Trust us; Kanan and Hera are really..."

Then I see it, the glisten of tears in Sabine's eyes. "...They're the best parents any of us could have asked for."

At once Kanan and Hera rush to embrace the oddly sappy Sabine, but she quickly holds up a hand. "Please no. I already need to reapply mascara."

That sounds more like my girl.

We head inside, and I can hear Hera's breath catch. "Sabine..." Hera sniffles, "it's perfect."

"I told you this would be the best one yet," Kanan says with a smirk.

Zeb and I chuckle, but of course, the girls find the sincerity in his words and threaten us with their best hard glares. Kanan's right, though. This is a masterpiece.

Zeb removed the top bunk to allow for headspace when Kanan and Hera put the little guy to bed, and I built some metal rails to prevent unwanted exploration after hours. Sabine added all the beige pillows and stuffed animals; she even hung a long white curtain from the ceiling to create a "look" she called it. The final touch to the crib was the word "seven" painted in big grey letters along the back wall.

For the remaining walls, I donated a few of my repeat trooper helmets that Sabine added funny faces to. These we hung these for added decor. The helmets end at the edge of the real work of art: an eight-foot-tall mural of the Spectors.

"One day, I'll add Seven in, too," Sabine whispers to Hera.

"I thought that was Hera's job?" Kanan asks confused.

Everyone laughs a big, long, bellyaching laugh. Well, everyone except Kanan.

Here's a sketch I did of Seven's room!

I just want to thank you all for your support of me during quarantine and my work thus far. You guys are the best readers a writer could ever ask for. My heart is full! Have a safe and wonderful weekend!