Work Text:
“Dank Firrik!”
Sabine threw down the brush, splatting dye on the counter. Hera might yell at her later, but she didn’t really care. The glob of dye that landed on her face was sliding down her cheek. If she didn’t clean it off right away, she’d have a bleach white splotch on her face for a month.
She grabbed for the towel around her shoulders with her left hand, her only usable one. Her right hand (and her dominant one, hence her mistake) was currently hanging inside a sling. Sabine had injured her shoulder a week ago. Not enough to break it, just dislocate it. Since it wasn’t a serious injury and the team wasn’t near any sort of well-equipped medical station for the Rebellion, she had to heal her shoulder the natural way.
Sabine had quickly found she was not as ambidextrous as she thought she was. Things like eating or brushing her teeth felt awkward. However, she could still draw with her left hand. And she always shot her blasters with both hands, so she considered that a fair trade.
However, now her task needed both hands. The hair dye sat on the counter in front of her. Normally, she’d do this in less than ten minutes, hide out in her room until her chrono went off, then rinse off in the shower. It had been a frustrating hour and she still couldn’t place the brush right to start on her roots.
Sabine sighed, putting down the towel. The rest of the crew was out scouting the Imperial complex they were planning on raiding (without her), so she had the ship to herself. She thought this would be the right time to re-dye her hair. The blue was starting to fade, and her natural hair was beginning to show.
“What the Loth-rats?”
She whirled around. Ezra stood in the doorway to the kitchen. He wore a surprised expression.
“Ezra!” she yelled. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out scouting?”
He stepped into the kitchen, looking over her shoulder at the mess of hair dye and brushes.
“The Imps caught me early, so I had to lie that I was lost. Hera told me to come back here. The others can finish up. So, white huh?”
She groaned, turning back around to the counter. “Yeah.”
“Want help?” He pointed to her sling and hurt shoulder.
Sabine blinked. The last thing she wanted was help. She was stubbornly trying to do this herself. She’d done it for years.
“Nope.”
“I think you do. I’ve got an idea. Stay here, I’ll be right back!” And he ran off. There was some loud scraping noises, then Ezra appeared again. He was dragging the wooden chair from the galley. He pushed it over the floor to the front of the sink.
“Ezra’s Salon, open for business!” He had an incredibly goofy grin on his face.
Sabine gave him a blank stare. “Never say that again.”
“Noted.”
“And I don’t need your help.”
“Got it. Sit down.”
He was being unbearably helpful. Sabine put her hand on her hip. “Have you ever dyed hair before?”
Ezra picked up the brush and bowl of dye, swirling it around with eager eyes. “Well, no. But I used to go with my mom when I was a kid to the salon. I’d watch other people get their hair done. I think if you tell me what to do, I can not mess it up too bad.”
Sabine’s face relaxed. He didn’t talk about his parents often. When he did it was always in a bad context. The small story of his mother was sweet. Sabine found herself turning and sitting down in the chair. The towel from before was draped over her shoulders.
“Okay,” Ezra said, “what first?”
“Roots.”
“Huh?”
She smacked her forehead in disdain. “Roots, the part of the hair nearest the scalp, Ezra. I was going to do my roots white and fade into a different color.”
He nodded. “Like how it was when we first met. Purple to orange, then blue to light blue, right?”
A smile grew on her face without her telling it to. “Right.”
Sabine explained the steps to him first, telling him not to use too much or too little. Ezra listened intently. It was kind of strange how eager he was to learn. But she smiled and rolled her eyes regardless.
He started at the top of her head, where she told him to. Sabine explained how to section off her hair, working in layers.
“Just don’t get any on the skin around my face,” she warned, narrowing her eyes. “Or I’ll dye your hair in your sleep.”
Ezra laughed. “Come on, I’ve done way more complex things, I can handle a little hair dye.” He scooped a clump onto the brush, watching it fall back into the bowl.
She rolled her eyes. He brought the brush to her head; Sabine grabbed his wrist just before he placed the brush.
“Mess up my hair, Bridger, and I’ll mess you up.” Her tone was threatening.
She had gotten away with intimidating him when they were younger. The first few months after Ezra joined the Ghost crew, she quickly put him in his place. That didn’t stop him from developing a massively obvious crush on her.
But in recent years, as he got older, her threats didn’t phase him anymore. It wasn’t that he knew she wouldn’t follow through. Sabine had made the exact same threats to Zeb and Chopper and followed through on those. No, it was the Ezra no longer thought of her as superior to him. Their dynamic was more like Hera and Kanan’s now; equal parts give and take. Their banter reflected that.
That thought scared her.
Ezra started painting on the dye. With no mirror in the kitchen, Sabine just had to go by feeling to trust that he was doing it right. After applying the first section, he parted her hair and move on to another section. Sabine smirked. Ezra wasn’t wearing gloves. His hands were going to be dyed bright white. She’d wait to tell him that later.
“So, can I ask you something?”
She hesitated. “Um, sure?”
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he clarified. Ezra leaned over her shoulder, face incredibly close to hers. She swallowed.
“Alright then.”
He thankfully returned to his task, speaking slowly. “Why do you dye your hair?”
It was a simple question that she had a very complex answer to.
“It’s a long story.”
He turned to her side, working above her ear. “Well, we’ve got time.”
Sabine sighed, closing her eyes for a moment.
“Well, you’ve met my family-“
“Oh, yeah.”
“-and you saw what it was like on the inside of the Imperial Academy firsthand. It was not the most conducive to creativity.”
“Mmhm.”
She ignored his musings. “I had my hair bright pink before I left for the academy. My mother and father were beside themselves on my ship day, I’ll never forget the looks on their faces,” she laughed, remembering how her mother cursed loudly in Mando’a. “On my first day, my Commanding Officer pulled me aside and brought me to the in-house barber. They shaved my head.”
“What?” Ezra exclaimed, stopping his hands. “They forced you to shave your hair off?”
Sabine nodded stiffly, careful not to move too much. “Yup. And my hair was longer then. About to my shoulders. All gone in a few seconds. The pink was against Imperial regulations. But I went through with it, I knew if I refused or disobeyed it would reflect poorly on my family.”
She cracked a smile. “But the Empire couldn’t stop my hair from growing. By the time I ran away, it was about the length it is now. One of the first things I stole while on the run was a pack of blue dye. I don’t even think it was meant for hair. But I needed to evade capture, so changing my appearance was necessary.”
He stepped around her, going to her other side. “But” he began, “you wear a helmet most of the time.”
“Ah, how observant you are.”
“I try.”
Sabine smiled. “Well, you know how I paint my armor? My hair is the same. It’s a form of expression. Some people see it as being out of control. But I see it as a form of choice. I choose the colors; I choose when they change. If it’s the same for too long, I get bored. I like to keep switching it up.”
“You like surprising people.”
“Now you’re catching on.”
Ezra finished with her roots, setting the brush and bowl down. Sabine set a chrono to rinse.
He began to wash his hands. “Can I ask another question?”
“If it's about how long your skin is going to be bleached, the answer is – a long time.”
He froze, looking down at the sink, and cursed. Sabine snorted. Ezra just shook his head and dried his hands off.
“I was going to ask if I could pick the other color for your hair.”
She stopped laughing. He wanted to pick the color. No one had ever picked the color for Sabine’s hair before. But it wasn’t like she had ever offered. Her hair was her domain.
But then she looked into his eyes. They weren’t mischievous or challenging. He knew how much something like this meant to her and he wanted to be a part of it. If it had been a year ago, he’d probably pick something horrible like green or yellow, but not now. Now, Ezra wanted to help.
Something passed between them. So many times, he had trusted her to watch his back in the field. So many times, she had put her life in his hands.
Ezra trusted her. He always had. It was Sabine who had to learn to let her guard down.
That was what he was asking; if she trusted him.
“Sure. The dye is in the bottom drawer of my bunk.”
He gave her a soft smile and left the kitchen. When he came back, he held the dye by the top, covering the cap indicating the color.
“What did you pick?”
The chrono went off and he smirked. “You’ll see. Let’s rinse out the white first.”
Sabine felt a little anxious but didn’t say anything. Ezra probably could sense it anyway.
It took a bit of maneuvering to get her head under the faucet. Ezra laughed as she rinsed out the dye. The water only had one setting: ice cold. She felt her teeth chattering. But a while later, the water eventually ran clear.
He ordered her back into the chair. This time Sabine complied with only mild protests and a rue gesture under her sling. He took the towel and squeezed out the rest of the water, running it back and forth over her head. She laughed as her hair was tossed around.
“Okay, next you mix the other dye and apply it only to the ends this time. It should be easier.”
“Got it. Close your eyes.”
“What? No.”
Ezra huffed, a little like a puppy who didn’t get petted like he wanted to. “The color is a surprise, remember?”
“Fiiiine,” she droned, shutting her eyes.
She heard him moving about the kitchen for a few moments. Then, a light tugging on her hair as he started brushing on the dye. He was gentle, more so than before. She could tell he wanted to do a good job.
“Can I ask you a question?” she said in a hopeful tone.
Ezra laughed once. “Go for it, Sabine.”
“What were your parents like?”
There was a small lapse in the brushing of her hair, but he eventually continued, asking solemnly, “what do you mean?”
She explained. “I know you were separated from them when you were seven. But, beyond doing those anti-Imperial radio broadcasts, I don’t know much about them. What did they do for a living? What was their favorite thing to eat? Did your dad make bad jokes like mine does?”
Getting Ezra to talk about his parents was rare. He usually only spoke to Kanan about them, and Sabine heard the stories by proxy. She had begun to learn that part of opening up to people is showing interest in getting to know them.
There was a smile in his voice when he answered, Sabine was glad for it.
“Ephraim and Mira Bridger, Lothal’s greatest up-and-coming architects,” he began. “I know they met in school. Both were born on Lothal. I used to watch as my dad would design building plans for affordable housing in the city. And skyscrapers that would have solar panels for siding to harness energy. He wanted to help reduce the need for fuel and pollution.”
Another turn around her head as he continued. “My mom was contracted to build new roads and highways for speeders. Most people in the city walked everywhere, so her job was to build bridges and overpasses for shipping and industrial transports.” Ezra laughed, “I remember one day telling her that a bridge made of candy would be so cool. I drew this horrible drawing of it.”
“Really? I wish I could’ve seen it!” Sabine exclaimed.
He moved to the top of her head, placing the dye gingerly as he could.
“Oh hell no! I do not need your expert eye critiquing my childhood scribbles!”
She pretended to pout. Ezra went on.
“Mom never made that candy bridge. But, she did name a bridge she designed ‘Sugershake Lane’ and that was pretty cool.”
Sabine smiled.
“I remember Dad made the best cookies. Mom could burn water. And Dad did tell jokes. They were never funny, but Mom always laughed. Probably just because he was being ridiculous.”
“It sounds like they really loved each other,” Sabine said in wonder before she could stop herself.
Ezra’s voice changed. It was more…vulnerable.
“Yeah, they did. Until the end.”
She dared to peek open an eye. He was done with the dye, having set to bowl out of sight in the sink. He was looking down and away from her. She set the chrono and stood up.
“Ezra,” she started. “I didn’t mean to make you sad talking about your parents.” She put a hand on his arm, waiting for him to speak again.
“I just miss them.”
“I know.”
“And I wish you could’ve gotten to know them yourself.”
Sabine met his eyes. “Me too. But, I got to know their son pretty well. He has his moments, but overall he’s pretty amazing.”
Ezra rolled his eyes and laughed at the rare Sabine Wren complement.
“Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
He placed his hand over hers. “You know what I realized?”
“Do not say that this color looked better on the bottle than in my hair.”
He ignored that. “We’ve got some pretty great parents on this ship too.”
Sabine felt like that was an understatement. Hera and Kanan felt like more than a second set of parents to her. They had taken her in at one of the lowest points in her life, without question. They had raised her and guided her to become something greater than what she was. Every day they inspired her to do better, to make a difference.
“Yeah, we do. Hera and Kanan got really lucky to have such great kids,” she said happily.
“Agreed. I think they should appreciate us more often!”
They laughed together. Sabine was close enough to see the small dimples in his cheeks. When did they get so close?
His hand over hers suddenly felt warm. Sabine looked at it. Holding hands was one thing, but they normally wore gloves. They had taken them off to do her hair. She realized this was probably the first time they held hands, skin to skin.
She looked up at him. His gaze fell on her. They didn’t move. Sabine could only stare into those deep blue eyes. She never had gotten a fair look at them. They were the deepest blue, one that came from the ocean’s depths. Flecks of purple scattered around his pupils like from a night sky, creating a beautiful swirl of colors. Sabine leaned closer. Her heart picked up.
The lines of his scars were faded, but there. As an artist, Sabine loved seeing the perfection in imperfection. Reaching up, she traced the lines with her fingers. Ezra let her. He kept his eyes on her as if she was the only thing in the galaxy worth gazing at. Then one of his hands found the small of her back. Sabine felt him pull her closer. She tilted her head, waiting for his lips to meet hers.
The chrono went off with a loud beep. They sprang apart. Whatever spell had fallen over them broke, snapping them back to the kitchen of the Ghost. Sabine winced slightly at the quick motion, pain shooting down her arm. Ezra turned, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. There was a pause as she reached over to turn off the chrono.
“We should-“
“Yeah.”
They worked together to rinse her hair again. Sabine didn’t feel as cold under the water this time, her face was rather warm. She kept her eyes shut again, so as not to get a glance at the color he picked.
She tried not to think about the fact that they almost kissed.
He ran the towel over her head again. They cleaned up the kitchen as best they could or face the wrath of Hera. Sabine watched Ezra drag the wooden chair back to the galley, laughing as he struggled to fit it back through the doorway.
When he was done, they stood together in the hallway. Sabine still held the towel over her shoulders. Ezra crossed his arms and smiled, looking at her hair with triumph.
“I’m only going to say this once,” she said gruffly, then more softly, “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Anytime. Can’t wait to see it dry. I think you’ll like it. I know I already do.”
Again she found herself staring at him. He was being genuine.
Was he always this nice and she never noticed? Or had something changed that she didn’t catch on to? Why was her heart suddenly fluttering in her chest? Sabine hadn’t noticed Ezra had grown, changed.
He rocked back and forth on his heels. “I’m going to try and contact the others, they should be back soon.” He turned swiftly towards the cockpit like he had done something wrong.
She watched him for a second. Should she dare? Well, he had been giving her surprise after surprise tonight. Might as well return the favor.
“Ezra?”
He paused before the automatic doors, looking back with slight caution. “Yeah, Sabine?”
“Next time we have the opportunity, don’t let a chrono stop you from kissing me.”
She whirled away, leaving him with his mouth hanging open and eyes comically wide.
The next morning, Sabine rose late. She’d never admit it, but she spent more time styling her hair than normal.
With it completely dry the colors popped. The white was a nice striking change. The purple Ezra had chosen was her signature shade. No doubt in her mind he chose it on purpose. It was blended perfectly. He had done a good job. Better than she could ever do with a bum shoulder. Heck, even with two perfectly working hands her hair wasn’t this great. She ran her fingers through her bangs, watching the purple strands fall across her forehead. Maybe, just maybe, having Ezra’s help was worth it.
Hera complimented her on the new look when she entered the galley. She was sipping caf. Zeb was reclined in the wooden seat, a datapad in hand. Ezra was next to Hera, trying to get Chopper to stay still so he could repair something damaged during the recon mission.
“Thanks,” she said, yawning.
As she sat down, Ezra got up. She gave him a confused look.
“Wait, you did that with a bum arm? How? You should be resting!” Zeb scolded.
Sabine opened her mouth, trying to come up with something snappy to say when a cup of steaming caf was placed in front of her.
“She had help,” Ezra said with a smile, sitting back down.
And Sabine surprised herself by not trying to correct him. She accepted the caf happily.