title from "someone like you" by adele.

takes place shortly after the clone wars episode "a friend in need."

(Born and Raised) In a Summer Haze

ahsoka really doesn't know what love is.

She doesn't tell her master all the details at first. Of course, he knows that she's hiding something—("Death Watch didn't question Bonteri for bringing a friend?" he asks with a quirk to his mouth)—and officially, that's exactly what happened, and Skyguy says nothing more on the matter. Not yet, at least. He gives her two days before he confronts her. Probably egged on by responsibility/duty and Master Kenobi. (Ahsoka will never tell either masters, but she appreciates the egging-on from Master Kenobi. Not that Anakin's a bad master! He's just…not very good at this detailing thing. To be fair, neither is she; she's the padawan, though. He's the one who's supposed to come to her—and without his former master on his back!)

"So. Snips." He coughs, glancing back at Obi-Wan, who's throwing away their trash. They had just finished their dinner together—one of the most awkward ones Ahsoka's had since her early days as a padawan: full of silence and secret glances and weak jokes—as they always do, nowadays, in the cafeteria. Ahsoka can't deny that she doesn't enjoy sitting down and eating/relaxing with two of the greatest Jedi as all three of them recall old missions, as the Skyguy and Master Kenobi banter, as she learns new and old lessons in both the Force and how to simple be a…well, not human, but an adult.

"How 'bout a walk?"

Ahsoka nods, glancing behind her at Obi-Wan. He walks behind them, just short of three meters, but not to follow and/or eavesdrop. He respects that Anakin is her master, not himself. Master Kenobi rarely interferes. The most he ever does is give training to Ahsoka when she asks for it, or when Skyguy isn't available, only advising her master on how to train her, and never telling.

Master Kenobi notices her glance, and quirks an eyebrow in a similar way that Anakin does with his mouth, and gives a little smile. What are you staring at me for? Here and now, padawan.

Soon enough, Anakin leads her left and Obi-Wan turns right, giving them all the privacy he can provide. Anakin coughs again.

"So. What happened on Carlac that you aren't telling me?"

He looks uncomfortable, and Ahsoka's almostalmost tempted to speak with Master Kenobi or with Master Plo just so he won't be uncomfortable, but that wouldn't be fair. To either of them. They won't to get better at this full-report-including-details issue if they keep running to someone else.

So Ahsoka tells him what truly happened—not that she left much out anyways. Just the fiancé and the kissing thing part. They've reached their quarters by the time she's finished. Anakin palms open the door, sitting on the couch while Ahsoka takes her usual spot on the counter separating living space from kitchen, her legs dangling. Anakin sighs. "I would like to think that the fiancé part has no personal connections—to you—but I have a feeling I'm wrong." He gives her a pointed look, and Ahsoka almost opens her mouth to protest, but she—she—…

"I'm a Jedi, Master. And a Jedi doesn't know love."

"No." He gives her a curious expression. "But that didn't answer my question."

She stares down, away, anywhere but her master. "Lux is just a friend. I care for him as a friend would."

She knows that, were they a normal master-padawan team, he'd have lectured her on the dangers of attachment, maybe make her meditate, and be done with the matter. But they aren't normal, and it would not be fair of him to demand that she forget Lux—forget their small, tentative relationship—when he himself forms so many attachments: to her, and Master Kenobi, and even Senator Amidala. And besides, she's just as bad as him—Barriss, Master Plo, Obi-Wan and Skyguy, and even Senators Amidala and Organa.

Skyguy nods. For what, Ahsoka can hardly fathom. Probably because she understands that she can't care for Lux in more than a friend would. Not that she feels anything more than friendship!

Ahsoka glances at her master, who still looks uncomfortable and who suddenly blurts, "It gets easier. Meeting people you'll never see again, and letting them go. Not that I'm telling you to forget." He's lost in some memory or other. It may be rude to interrupt him, but when has she ever cared? Rarely. Besides, he broods too much.

"Have you ever been in love?"

She's caught him off guard. Anakin physically starts—not that he ever withholds his emotions anyways—and stares at her in surprise.

"Well?" She's curious, and with the way he's acting, it's obvious he has been—because who really acts like that when they don't feeling anything? Ahsoka has seen the way families and lovers act when they learn that a loved one has survived, the way they can't seem to let each other go. And that look in Skyguy's eyes? It's the look those affected by the war people get when they see someone they love alive and well. Of course, there's a certain lack of hope and survival, and whatever else citizens feel after a battle. But both her master and the citizens share that look of…well, of love.

"Yes. Yeah, I've fallen in love before."

"With who?"

Anakin frowns at her, contemplating if he wants to answer that question. She frowns back. Ahsoka's not going to stop pestering—catechizing Skyguy until he gives her an answer. Besides, she could always go ask Master Kenobi—he'll probably reveal the person at least. Or maybe even talk about the Duchess Satine. Ahsoka wants to—

"I wasn't much older than you—nineteen. I thought she was an angel. I was protecting her because her life was threatened by Sepratists and it was my first solo mission: there was no one but me and her. We got to know each other really well."

"Senator Amidala?" It's obvious, really. He has told her that his first solo mission was with the senator, and that they were alone and that her life was threatened. Ahsoka can hardly fathom why he didn't just say right out.

He flinches. "Yes."

Well. That's just—not that surprising. Not surprising at all. She grins at him. "You still love her, don't you?"

"No, I—"

"So those secret glances mean nothing?"

Anakin glares at her. Which, in other terms, means yes, actually, they do mean something. but no, i'm not going to tell you that they do.

(He thinks she doesn't know, and she has no intention of changing his thoughts—Jedi aren't celibate, after all.)

"No, they don't."

Ahsoka grins at him, thoroughly amused at his growing chagrin. But she knows better than to push further. Master Skywalker Does Not Talk About His Personal Life. She learned this early on, when she first met him, actually, and she asked about his life on Tattoine; his blatant refusals to even mention his past. She tried, afterwards, but a Jedi does not dwell. (And he kept telling her to be quiet, or sent her away to do something else. Ahsoka tried to ask Master Kenobi, but he flat out told her that it wasn't his business to share.)

(Ahsoka started to wonder if all older Jedi refused to talk about themselves in any form, but no, not really: just Masters Skywalker and Kenobi.)

Skyguy blinks at her, all emotions wiped away, and once again, he's Master Skywalker. "You understand, Padawan, that you shouldn't dwell on Bonteri, and that Jedi don't love?"

Ahsoka nods. "Yes, Master." Of course she understands: she's a Jedi. "But…." Do you understand, Master? Or are you a lying hypocrite? Because even if Jedi aren't celibate... Ahsoka doesn't want to continue that thought, and what it may mean for Anakin. ...What it may mean for her.

Skyguy waits for her to continue, not patiently. She shakes her head.

"Never mind."

He nods. Doesn't question her further, and asks if she would like to spar before sleep.

Ahsoka grins eagerly, all thoughts on Lux and Master Skyguy's possible slight-hypocrisy gone. Jedi don't know love, and that really is enough for her.

(Besides, she really doubts that she'll see Lux again. Master Skywalker said it would get easier with time, and Ahsoka trusts him. She always will.)