The title came from a song, and I find the title of the song itself fits Star Wars so much.

This story is something that sprang up after watching the Star Wars Clone Wars cartoons. In this story, they are two separate universes, very similar but different.

This is the story of Anakin as Ahsoka's master and how different that made him from the Saga's version. Taking care of anything young changes a person in how they view the world.

So without much pelude this is the beginning.

Sometimes the Force has a funny sense of humor, you have to give it some credit for a formless energy that wraps around the universe it had a bit of sneaky side. And most of all it has a soft spot for those who are marked by fate.

In the Jedi Temple a certain Jedi was twisting and turning in his sleep. He was having nightmares again, the kind that fondly reminds you of it's existence during the brightest moment of the day as fleeting shadows in the corner of your eye.

It was happening again, the dreams shrouded in darkness and red. It was drowning him, seeping like tar into his lungs making it hard to breathe or think.

With a shout he threw his covers off, body jolting up. His chest heaved as his body attempted to draw in as much air as it could. "Uggh." Slowly, he stood going to the next room to fetch a drink.

It took all but four seconds for his toes to hit a chair causing Anakin to swear loudly.

"Master."

The lights flicked on much to Anakin's consternation. There in the door way stood Ahsoka his padawan learner. They had been given some leave from the war, told to freshen up and get some R&R. For the Jedi that meant returning to the temple.

"Hey Snips." Anakin said, chuckling at the scowl that formed on his apprentice's face. "What are you doing up?" It was past his padawan's bed time.

"I heard someone yelling." Said very softly, her eyes drifting away from her master self conscious. "Are you okay?"

"Course." It was said with more self assurance than he felt. "Go to bed, we're shipping out tomorrow."

Ahsoka's gaze lingered on Anakin's stress worn face, the way the lines continued down betraying his current state. "Yeah. Get some sleep master."

Had Ahsoka not been tired from her adventures with her former creche mates, she would have pressed the issue. Her master has been getting moody, well moodier than usual and no amount of practice, jokes, or even getting him to get critical of her would snap him out of it. Not even when Senator Amidala came, and that always cheered him up. There was something troubling her master, something deeper than what type of shampoo to use or whether or not he's growing a few inches more while she's stuck in shortstop land.

But she was tired and dreading the long trip to the next battle. So she dropped the issue, turned the light off and went to bed. She didn't notice the slightly yellowish gleam in her master's normally bright blue eyes.

People usually never do, not until it's too late of course and by then, it's too late.

Morning came like a knife stab to the eye, the sunlight burning all those unfortunate to sleep facing the sunrise. Anakin crawled out of bed, already smelling a fresh brew of caffa being prepared. It was one of the rare nights that he wasn't at his wife's place sleeping by her side. However, she'd been on business and thus her room was empty. It would do no good to sneak over, sleep on her bed smell her clothes only to be found by the janitorial staff. One close encounter was enough. They never really did figure out why the Senator had a piece of male undergarment. Most of them chalked it up to crazy fanboys.

Anyways, back to poor Anakin. For days now he'd been having dreams, smokey dreams involving a tall dark man with a bucket for a head whom he always ended up fighting that man. Had he talked to Obi-Wan about it, he would have said that it was no doubt a metaphor about growing up and becoming a better man, better Master, etc. Frankly, all Anakin knew was that he was tired of this banthra shit and he wanted to be able to sleep in peace again.

He always wakes up before the match ends.

With a cup of caffa in hand and a fresh tunic, the world actually seemed cheerful and not as fake as the holotube was making it sound. Being back in the temple reminded Anakin about how different the world was when not in a constant state of paranoia. The people in the core worlds didn't have to worry about being attacked by Separatists not with the brave Jedi and clones fighting for them.

No, they didn't have to worry at all. It wasn't their world that was being fought over, or their people who were dying.

Carefully Anakin clipped his lightsaber onto his belt, a piece of breakfast in his mouth, chewing as fastidiously as he could. Rations were horrible and this was his last chance to eat something that didn't taste like it exited a Hutt's digestive system.

Don't ask how he knows. Just don't.

Snips was already waiting for him, her pack slung over her shoulder and a few crumbs on the edges of her lips. "Come on Master, they're waiting for us."

He swallowed the last bits of toast, covering the distance between the two of them in two quick steps. "Looks like you got some on ya, snips." Quickly he licked the edge of his fingers and swiped the crumbs from her face before she could resist.

The look on her face made it worth it.

"Master! Ew! I got your spit on my face!"

Well, tell me what you think.