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Title: Avowal
Fandom: Star Wars The Clone Wars
Pairing: Mace/Ponds
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Star wars. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Mash Fusion. Ponds POV. After a rough day Ponds and Mace confess their feelings for each other.
A/N: Written for the Mace Windu Appreciation day. The Zilla Beast episodes had Mace fighting with a Hawkeye and a Trapper...how could I not have him working with the rest of the MASH crew? Since clearly Hawkeye and Trapper aren't medics I decided that meant Radar is their medic.
Avowal:
Ponds let's his concern for Mace sit in the back of his head as he checks on his men. They've won. The Separatist ships have supposedly left. The Toydarians are grateful, even offering to put them all in hotels for the night. They're camping out, just in case. The Toydarians don’t let them turn down the fancy wine and glasses they've sent. One drink each for tonight, Ponds had told them. It's a sure thing the Toydarians will attempt to have a celebration in their honor tomorrow. He's got a rotation for men keeping watch and everyone is settling in for the night. He can finally check on Mace.
It’s almost a relief to realize that Mace is still in the med tent. Radar clearly didn't feel the need to send him to a hospital. Ponds just can't seem to shake that memory of Mace collapsing in front of him.
"How's he doing?" Ponds asks as he enters.
"Cranky," Radar tells him. Ponds pauses to study Radar for a moment. He's a wonderful medic, but finds it stressful. Ponds doesn't blame him, making sure Lighting Company heals when they need to can't be easy.
“Are you going to terrorize the Supply officers again?” Ponds asks. “You’d probably be able to secure a transfer if that’s really what you want.”
He means his words to be soothing, but Radar suddenly looks more stressed. “Please don’t transfer me sir.”
“It’s his stress relief,” Mace explains where he’s laying on a cot. “If Supply was his job he’d start to find it stressful and the men would start to expect the presents he manages to get in to become a regular thing.”
Radar nods.
“Sorry,” Ponds tells Radar with a clap on the shoulder before he goes to look at Mace. “How are you?”
Mace takes his hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Just a concussion. Did anyone get hurt?”
“And you overtaxed yourself again,” Rader puts in, then adds a belated, “Sir.”
“You were the only one hurt,” Ponds tells him gently as he gives Mace’s hand a squeeze back. “You saved my life.”
“The way I hear it, you saved mine,” Mace counters.
“He was standing over you, making sure you were kept safe, while directing the men,” Radar supplies.
Ponds glares at Radar for the reminder. Radar gives him a long suffering look back.
“It was terrifying to see you like that, sir,” Radar puts in.
It had been terrifying, that doesn’t mean he wants Radar reminding him of it or putting his feelings into words.
“I’m sorry I worried both of you,” Mace pacifies mildly. He gives Ponds’ hand another squeeze and then his fingers brush over Ponds inner wrist and Ponds can’t help but smile at him. Then he catches the look Radar is giving the both of them and realizes he isn’t really keeping his crush off his face. Mace draws his focus as he asks, “How are the men?”
“They’re well. I’ve told them all only one glass of wine. Hawkeye and Trapper are already treating everyone to their unique version of morale boosting and Klinger’s already changed into a dress,” Ponds informs him.
“Which one?” Mace asks.
“The red one that’s made of two different materials. The one he likes to wear with the white cardigan, the one with a huge rose on it and that hair piece with the red flower and white feathers,” Pond elaborates as he points to his own head, indicating where Klinger likes to clip the hairpiece in.
Mace makes a noise of understanding before commenting, “I’m partcial to the red one with the matching hat.”
“I like that yellow one with the big skirt,” Radar says. “The one he wears with the floppy hat and shawl.”
Ponds smiles with an amused shake of his head. He’s grateful that Mace makes his brothers feel comfortable being themselves, to explore who they are as people. He’s relatively sure that before Klinger discovered the joys of dresses and fashion none of them knew what a cardigan or shawl was, or how it could enhance an outfit.
“If the Separatists don’t come back it will be interesting to see what he adds to his collection,” Ponds says.
Mace agrees.
Radar looks between Ponds and Mace, then offers, “You should be alright now, General, but no drinking, at least for tonight. Would you stay with him Commander? You know what to look out for.”
“I can,” Ponds reassures.
Mace sits up, then stands slowly. Ponds wraps an arm around his waist. Mace raises an eyebrow.
“Indulge me?” Ponds asks.
This gets him a brief bemused smile before Mace gives the hand on his waist a squeeze and leans into Ponds. As Mace presses into his side and Ponds mouth goes dry like it always does when Maces is this close, but it also settles that last bit of worry he’s had since Mace jumped into to protect him and then collapsed.
They make their way out of the med tent with very little space between them and Mace steers them to where the wine is being passed out with a reminder that while Mace may not be allowed to indulge, that doesn’t prevent Ponds from doing so. He’s not really a fan of wine, but he knows Mace enjoys some when it’s available. He’ll probably ask for a taste of it later and Ponds doesn’t want him to miss out. Then they find a place to sit and watch the antics of their company. Everyone is laughing and cheering over something. When there’s a pause in the noise Klinger declares, “Kark all of you! I’m beautiful and don’t deserve any of this!”
And then he’s laughing along with everyone else.
Hawkeye shushes the crowd then asks, “Alright, what else do we love?”
B.J. answers, “We love dirt!”
“Dirt is my life!” Trapper agrees
“To dirt!” Hawkeye toasts loudly, holding out his glass. “And to the Grand Army of the Republic that lets us eat it, drink it, breathe it, and salute it!”
Mace’s low chuckle is nearly drowned out by the rest of the men cheering and agreeing, Ponds can really only tell because of how close they are. It’s more a vibration against his side then a sound he can hear.
Hawkeye keeps asking for more things to toast to and the list continues to get more ridiculous. As Mace relaxes against him Ponds asks, “Tired sir?”
“It’s been a long day,” Mace allows.
“It has,” Ponds agrees.
Mace shifts to look at him. Their eyes meet and Ponds wets his lips, suddenly not sure what to say. Mace glances down at the wine that Ponds has been sipping at.
Ponds holds the glass out slightly. “Did you want a taste? I don’t think Radar would object to that.”
“No, I don’t suppose he would,” Mace agrees before he leans in. Then Mace is kissing him and Ponds realizes belating tasting the wine, but from his mouth. Ponds kisses back, his free hand clutching at Mace’s robe. He’s wanted for so long and maybe he’s been kidding himself that this is just a crush. Maybe this isn’t just one-sided?
Mace starts to pull back and Ponds wants to pull him into another kiss. He wants so much more than a kiss. Mace presses their foreheads together and Ponds keeps his eyes closed, lets himself just breathe in that Mace is here and this close and just kissed him. Then he groans, “You’re concussed.”
“Not that concussed.”
Ponds opens his eyes and looks at Mace. Then Mace runs a thumb over his lips and Ponds shudders.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for awhile,” Mace tells him. “I told myself to wait until you were promoted and transferred.”
“Fox has been trying to get me to join the guard,” Ponds admits.
Wait, clearly Radar was attempting to play matchmaker, but is Fox doing so as well? Working as part of the guard on Coruscant would help eliminate some of the barriers to dating for them. Mace is the general that works with them the most, but he also spends a lot of time on Coruscant and sometimes they work with different generals, different Jedi. Ponds knows he wants to get to know Mace outside of fighting, to get to hear his dry humor commenting on mundane things. It would mean leaving Lighting Squadron though, but at least if he’s taking a job elsewhere he’d be able to pick his replacement. Maybe Neyo?
“Planning?” Mace asks, amusement in his eyes. His low tone and steady presence are what comfort Ponds. If this confession had been a desperate ‘I thought you were going to die’ kiss then Ponds would have doubts and wouldn’t feel right about leaving his men or Mace in anyone else’s care. It’s not though, this is Mace as he always is: kind and concerned, but steady and careful too.
“I thought my feelings were one-sided,” Ponds confesses.
“They’re not,” Mace tells him. “Perhaps we could plan together?”
Mace’s hand cups his cheek and Ponds smiles. “Together would be good.”
Fandom: Star Wars The Clone Wars
Pairing: Mace/Ponds
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Star wars. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Mash Fusion. Ponds POV. After a rough day Ponds and Mace confess their feelings for each other.
A/N: Written for the Mace Windu Appreciation day. The Zilla Beast episodes had Mace fighting with a Hawkeye and a Trapper...how could I not have him working with the rest of the MASH crew? Since clearly Hawkeye and Trapper aren't medics I decided that meant Radar is their medic.
Avowal:
Ponds let's his concern for Mace sit in the back of his head as he checks on his men. They've won. The Separatist ships have supposedly left. The Toydarians are grateful, even offering to put them all in hotels for the night. They're camping out, just in case. The Toydarians don’t let them turn down the fancy wine and glasses they've sent. One drink each for tonight, Ponds had told them. It's a sure thing the Toydarians will attempt to have a celebration in their honor tomorrow. He's got a rotation for men keeping watch and everyone is settling in for the night. He can finally check on Mace.
It’s almost a relief to realize that Mace is still in the med tent. Radar clearly didn't feel the need to send him to a hospital. Ponds just can't seem to shake that memory of Mace collapsing in front of him.
"How's he doing?" Ponds asks as he enters.
"Cranky," Radar tells him. Ponds pauses to study Radar for a moment. He's a wonderful medic, but finds it stressful. Ponds doesn't blame him, making sure Lighting Company heals when they need to can't be easy.
“Are you going to terrorize the Supply officers again?” Ponds asks. “You’d probably be able to secure a transfer if that’s really what you want.”
He means his words to be soothing, but Radar suddenly looks more stressed. “Please don’t transfer me sir.”
“It’s his stress relief,” Mace explains where he’s laying on a cot. “If Supply was his job he’d start to find it stressful and the men would start to expect the presents he manages to get in to become a regular thing.”
Radar nods.
“Sorry,” Ponds tells Radar with a clap on the shoulder before he goes to look at Mace. “How are you?”
Mace takes his hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Just a concussion. Did anyone get hurt?”
“And you overtaxed yourself again,” Rader puts in, then adds a belated, “Sir.”
“You were the only one hurt,” Ponds tells him gently as he gives Mace’s hand a squeeze back. “You saved my life.”
“The way I hear it, you saved mine,” Mace counters.
“He was standing over you, making sure you were kept safe, while directing the men,” Radar supplies.
Ponds glares at Radar for the reminder. Radar gives him a long suffering look back.
“It was terrifying to see you like that, sir,” Radar puts in.
It had been terrifying, that doesn’t mean he wants Radar reminding him of it or putting his feelings into words.
“I’m sorry I worried both of you,” Mace pacifies mildly. He gives Ponds’ hand another squeeze and then his fingers brush over Ponds inner wrist and Ponds can’t help but smile at him. Then he catches the look Radar is giving the both of them and realizes he isn’t really keeping his crush off his face. Mace draws his focus as he asks, “How are the men?”
“They’re well. I’ve told them all only one glass of wine. Hawkeye and Trapper are already treating everyone to their unique version of morale boosting and Klinger’s already changed into a dress,” Ponds informs him.
“Which one?” Mace asks.
“The red one that’s made of two different materials. The one he likes to wear with the white cardigan, the one with a huge rose on it and that hair piece with the red flower and white feathers,” Pond elaborates as he points to his own head, indicating where Klinger likes to clip the hairpiece in.
Mace makes a noise of understanding before commenting, “I’m partcial to the red one with the matching hat.”
“I like that yellow one with the big skirt,” Radar says. “The one he wears with the floppy hat and shawl.”
Ponds smiles with an amused shake of his head. He’s grateful that Mace makes his brothers feel comfortable being themselves, to explore who they are as people. He’s relatively sure that before Klinger discovered the joys of dresses and fashion none of them knew what a cardigan or shawl was, or how it could enhance an outfit.
“If the Separatists don’t come back it will be interesting to see what he adds to his collection,” Ponds says.
Mace agrees.
Radar looks between Ponds and Mace, then offers, “You should be alright now, General, but no drinking, at least for tonight. Would you stay with him Commander? You know what to look out for.”
“I can,” Ponds reassures.
Mace sits up, then stands slowly. Ponds wraps an arm around his waist. Mace raises an eyebrow.
“Indulge me?” Ponds asks.
This gets him a brief bemused smile before Mace gives the hand on his waist a squeeze and leans into Ponds. As Mace presses into his side and Ponds mouth goes dry like it always does when Maces is this close, but it also settles that last bit of worry he’s had since Mace jumped into to protect him and then collapsed.
They make their way out of the med tent with very little space between them and Mace steers them to where the wine is being passed out with a reminder that while Mace may not be allowed to indulge, that doesn’t prevent Ponds from doing so. He’s not really a fan of wine, but he knows Mace enjoys some when it’s available. He’ll probably ask for a taste of it later and Ponds doesn’t want him to miss out. Then they find a place to sit and watch the antics of their company. Everyone is laughing and cheering over something. When there’s a pause in the noise Klinger declares, “Kark all of you! I’m beautiful and don’t deserve any of this!”
And then he’s laughing along with everyone else.
Hawkeye shushes the crowd then asks, “Alright, what else do we love?”
B.J. answers, “We love dirt!”
“Dirt is my life!” Trapper agrees
“To dirt!” Hawkeye toasts loudly, holding out his glass. “And to the Grand Army of the Republic that lets us eat it, drink it, breathe it, and salute it!”
Mace’s low chuckle is nearly drowned out by the rest of the men cheering and agreeing, Ponds can really only tell because of how close they are. It’s more a vibration against his side then a sound he can hear.
Hawkeye keeps asking for more things to toast to and the list continues to get more ridiculous. As Mace relaxes against him Ponds asks, “Tired sir?”
“It’s been a long day,” Mace allows.
“It has,” Ponds agrees.
Mace shifts to look at him. Their eyes meet and Ponds wets his lips, suddenly not sure what to say. Mace glances down at the wine that Ponds has been sipping at.
Ponds holds the glass out slightly. “Did you want a taste? I don’t think Radar would object to that.”
“No, I don’t suppose he would,” Mace agrees before he leans in. Then Mace is kissing him and Ponds realizes belating tasting the wine, but from his mouth. Ponds kisses back, his free hand clutching at Mace’s robe. He’s wanted for so long and maybe he’s been kidding himself that this is just a crush. Maybe this isn’t just one-sided?
Mace starts to pull back and Ponds wants to pull him into another kiss. He wants so much more than a kiss. Mace presses their foreheads together and Ponds keeps his eyes closed, lets himself just breathe in that Mace is here and this close and just kissed him. Then he groans, “You’re concussed.”
“Not that concussed.”
Ponds opens his eyes and looks at Mace. Then Mace runs a thumb over his lips and Ponds shudders.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for awhile,” Mace tells him. “I told myself to wait until you were promoted and transferred.”
“Fox has been trying to get me to join the guard,” Ponds admits.
Wait, clearly Radar was attempting to play matchmaker, but is Fox doing so as well? Working as part of the guard on Coruscant would help eliminate some of the barriers to dating for them. Mace is the general that works with them the most, but he also spends a lot of time on Coruscant and sometimes they work with different generals, different Jedi. Ponds knows he wants to get to know Mace outside of fighting, to get to hear his dry humor commenting on mundane things. It would mean leaving Lighting Squadron though, but at least if he’s taking a job elsewhere he’d be able to pick his replacement. Maybe Neyo?
“Planning?” Mace asks, amusement in his eyes. His low tone and steady presence are what comfort Ponds. If this confession had been a desperate ‘I thought you were going to die’ kiss then Ponds would have doubts and wouldn’t feel right about leaving his men or Mace in anyone else’s care. It’s not though, this is Mace as he always is: kind and concerned, but steady and careful too.
“I thought my feelings were one-sided,” Ponds confesses.
“They’re not,” Mace tells him. “Perhaps we could plan together?”
Mace’s hand cups his cheek and Ponds smiles. “Together would be good.”