Jack getting fed up with Will not going out with Hannibal and setting him up and finally enjoying a normal crime scene for once in his life
"Got any plans this evening, Will?" Jack asked over lunch one day, a spot out of town Will had never been too. It was nice, cozy, if a small town dealing with the recent murder of a well loved teenage girl could be considered cozy. Will looked up from his plate of fries.
"What?" He asked, they rarely engaged in any small talk. Jack had known him long enough to avoid it, avoid eye contact too, which made Will feel safe in his company. Small talk was not safe. "Uh," He considered although he didn't have too. He'd stay up all night flipping channels and poking around his empty fridge until the exhaustion hit and he fell asleep on the couch with his dogs. "Not really."
"That's too bad," Jack mumbled as he swallowed, eyeing Will as he chewed as if he was waiting to say something.
"What is it, Jack?" Will choked out as the lingering gaze made his stomach less and less hungry for the already unappealing lunch Jack had kindly bought him.
"Nothing," Jack said, looking away from Will and around the empty diner, eyes resting on a picture of the girl they were on a case for. Eating out on cases was never really nice, the only real time Will and Jack had to talk. It wasn't nothing, Jack looked back at Will. "Have you ever been to Dr. Lecter's?" Jack asked, again invading their unspoken no speaking rule. Will groaned and shifted in his seat.
"Occasionally," Will said, seeing something in Jack's eyes change. "But only ever in cases I had to miss a session or something in a case changed and-" Will started blabbering excuses, because he didn't really want Jack to get the idea that Will frequented the Lecter home often or under states of undress and unknowing his surroundings.
"Has he ever made you dinner?" Jack cut off Will's rambling and Will met Jack's eyes in confusion.
"No?" He said, more as a question than a real response.
"You should, he's an excellent cook." Jack stated calmly, smiling at Will before taking another spoonful of his soup. Will looked at his plate and scoffed to himself. Why would he go prance around with Dr. Lecter and eat dinner? He was his therapist, his crime scene buddy, only there as the last measure to make sure Will didn't do anything stupid. They sat in silence for awhile before Will's cold empty head started piecing things together. Dinner at Hannibal's, his evening plans, Jack's insistence with the topic. It all seemed eerily similar to whenever Katz nudged him when Dr. Lecter was looking at Will over a dead body, or when Price or Zeller shuffled away from the two of them...
"Jack. Are you suggesting I go on a date with Dr. Lecter??? That's wildly inappropriate-" Will was flustered, maybe just a bit red in the face, as his mouth caught up to his mouth and he realized that everyone noticed before even he had-
"You said it not I." Jack said trying to shove a smile down and spooning for soup into his mouth to stop. "But he might be making dinner for two tonight-"
Will stood up and walked out the diner door, leaving Jack and his soup alone. It was cold out but Will didn't even bother to go find his coat inside as he stared out at the small town. What would he even wear?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
I wrote (and COMPLETED, whoa) a Chaos Walking fanfic for the the first time in years! And just increased the number of CW stories on AO3 by like 2%, I think lol
Anyways, it’s one-shot about Ben and Cillian’s first few months as parents from Ben’s POV. Go check it out!
Conviced his 'friends' hate him, Obi-Wan Kenobi goes looking for people to help and/or trouble. Meer weeks after having left the Jedi Order he finds himself in the middle of a smuggling underworld. In the meantime Anakin, Padme and Ahsoka are increasingly worried that he went missing weeks ago, and is in bad, bad trouble. Desperate to find him, will they make matters worse, or is he already in too much trouble to care?
Ao3
Chapter One {below the cut}
“I see you’re back,” Cathann called across the market. The man in question, who had introduced himself as Bani, spotted her at her stall, then looked around to see if he could make an escape. He gave into the inevitable and crossed, moving around the numerous people dotted around the stalls.
“And I see you’re persistent.” He smiled. “I don’t suppose….”
“There’s still no call for tea around here.” She said. “If you want to order it specially, I can probably talk to one of the importers, some of them are good at getting unique items.”
For a moment Obi-Wan was sorely tempted. “No, it’s not worth it.” It’s not like he had the credits to pay for it anyway. “How’s business been?”
“Little bit of this, little bit of that.” Cathann smiled, “It’s been pretty quiet today.”
“The whole place seems dead,” He observed looking around at the few customers around, “anything going on?”
“Nothing really,” She searched her mind “I guess some of the pirates are around, but that should make it busier really.”
“More goods?”
“More variety anyway,” Cathann agreed, “Plus those Republic hooligans usually come in chasing them, so the market’ll be closed for a few days afterwards.”
Ah yes, Obi-Wan thought, those Republic hooligans. He wouldn’t know anything about that. For a moment he wondered what Anakin would have said, probably something snarky agreeing that would have gotten them both found out immediately.
He missed him.
That dammed smirk, the unsubtle remarks, the knowing in jokes that it was never the time for, the way-
No. Obi-Wan dragged himself back to the present. He’d get over it.
“We can only hope they’re not around this time.” He said politely.
“We can hope.” She agreed, far more emphatically.
Not that Obi-Wan was overly keen on the idea of Jedi around. Your average citizen of Lothal might not know him, but your average Jedi... He was of no delusion that most of the Order would recognise him on sight.
“You know what they say about hope.” He smiled, “It’s only foolish if you rely on it.”
Cathann looked at him for a moment then shook her head. “Where did you grow up Bani Book Wein?”
“Around the middle and outer rim mainly. Why?”
She shook her head again. “Who broke you?”
Obi-Wan didn’t know quite what to say to that.
“Doesn’t matter. Sooo… about those other items that I know you’re looking for.”
Obi-Wan paused for a moment, and checked no-one was listening behind them without moving. Then, in a quieter voice than he used so far, he said: “I’m pretty sure tea was the only item I enquired about. Although it’s getting to the point I’d take a half-way decent cup of caff.”
“On this planet?” Cathann asked sceptically. “I wouldn’t bank on it, and, well,” she spread her arms out gesturing to the stall in front of her full of caff products, and the market beyond.
“With the current clans, I’m not sure I’d bank at all.”
She made a small noise, like a tiny bantha, or perhaps an aborted snort. “Who can afford to bank anyway?”
“That is a good question.” Obi-Wan smiled, “A very good question indeed. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go see if there’s any work going.”
“Around here?”
“Hey,” Obi-Wan backed away from the table towards where he could see a group of unfamiliar, but wealthy looking people. “I thought you said the pirates were in town.”
“I never said pirates.”
Obi-Wan smirked, and gave a jaunty wave before turning around to talk to the men. Who looked about as close to outstanding citizens of anywhere as Hondo Ohnaka. “Morning.”
“Mrng.” Came a varying chorus, a few of them glancing up from their tabacc. Obi-Wan looked around at the various rogues. Usual attire, although the varying states in luxury suggested either great disparities in levels of seniority, or a blend of different crews. Given the relaxed atmosphere, and general lack of fucks given, he suspected the latter. A few different species as well, most common on Lothal, and of course you often couldn’t tell with the humanoid, at least upon first impression.
One of them, a female Twi'lek, was wearing an incredible leather coat that Anakin would have- she was wearing a lovely leather coat, he corrected himself. Instead of focusing on his mental slip, Obi-Wan was subtly admiring the studwork on the shoulder when she spoke. “You looking for work? A way off this place?”
“I like Lothal fine,” Obi-Wan said, considering his wording. “It’s not too fond of me without money though.”
“You fly?”
“Well enough.”
The Twi'lek pirate thought about it for a moment, then spat out the rest of her tabacc and ground it into the ground. “Eyassogo”
“Bani Book Wein, call me Bani.”
“Two days work, Three for engagement, Seven more upon completion.”
Obi-Wan nearly whistled. “What’s the catch?”
“Fancy flying and no questions asked.” Eyassogo said.
In theory, that sounded reasonable. And if he was force blind Obi-Wan would have agreed without hesitation. But that warning. The twang in the force that almost pulsed with a sense of mistrust. Something was wrong. She was either lying, or not telling the whole story, and it was the rest of it that was important. This was dangerous, this was fundamentally a bad idea.
“Sounds good.” Obi-Wan said. When had a lack of lightsabre, or a little danger, ever stopped him?
Eyassogo smiled at him. “That’s what they all say to start with.”
Obi-Wan swallowed the grin that threatened to appear. This sounded like fun.
A day and a couple of hours later he was reconsidering his opinion on what was considered fancy flying and what was the kind of stunt only Anakin would even try and pull.
Maybe Ahsoka. Those two had always been well matched. Well, Obi-Wan considered as he entered a dive a few degrees too steep to be considered safe, at least this was going to be interesting…
The wind whistled past the cockpit, unheard by the pilot, desperately trying to control the spin. What was? What? Huh? He had to? He- he – he
Calm.
Obi-Wan forced a breath in, and held it for a count of nine before exhaling and seeking out with the force at the same time.
Calm.
Three, two- Obi-Wan saw the chance and took it. He pulled the craft up and to the right resulting in several loud banging noises from behind him.
He paid no attention, all of his regular senses lost to the force as he pushed just enough that the craft groaned and creaked. Then, with some stuttering and a creaking sound that would alarm any sane pilot, the ship settled into a slow, steady, descent.
It was, of all things, a squeaking noise that brought Obi-Wan back into focus.
“KRIFF.” He muttered, glancing over his shoulder to see if the cargo looked more or less alright. He’d run a few blockades before, some with even more delicate cargo, but this one? What was on Lothal?
He was pretty sure some of the crates had split.
At least none of the power cells had overloaded. Hopefully that meant that the rest of the cargo was more or less alright. It’d have to be as Obi-Wan brought the ship in for a less than perfect, but technically passable landing.
The second the clutch was on Obi-Wan leapt out of his seat and went to inspect what the kriff had happened.
There was a sharp knocking on the other side of the loading ramp, interrupting the process.
That, Obi-Wan guessed, would be his employers. Somewhat reluctantly he opened the ramp, pushing his hair back as it revealed Eyassogo and a rather intimidatingly tall Wookie, even for the species. The wookie grinned, although fortunately not malevolently upon seeing that the pilot was alive. It still wasn’t the most settling sight. Presumably this was Eyassogo’s boss by the ornamentation clipped into his dark hair.
“I see why people stop calling it fun.” Obi-Wan greeted them.
Eyassogo laughed. “You made it though.”
“Well,” Obi-Wan gestured to the scattered and damaged crates. “Mostly.”
Eyassogo looked at her boss, they nodded. “You’re the first person to be able to make it through with even a partial cargo in two weeks. You’ve earned your money.”
“Bani was it?” The Wookie spoke for the first time.
“Yeah.”
“Follow us.” They led the way out of the ship onto a smooth, if scorched, grass plain. They turned to look back at the ship.
“Funny,” Obi-Wan considered. “The damage doesn’t look so bad from here.”
There was a loud groan and a clatter before one of the repulsors fell off landing on the ground with a reverberating wobble.
He watched it for a moment before adding: “That can probably be repaired right?” Then he turned away from the ship and determinedly ignored any subsequent crashes, bangs, or other signs of machinery falling apart. This was why flying was for droids.
Eyassogo and her boss exchanged a quick smirk before leading Obi-Wan over to the ridge. He peered over the edge. It was a long, sheer, way down. It has a pretty view, of the river down below, but it was not one he had any intention of seeing up close anytime soon.
Eyassogo walked up to the edge of the cliff, turned back around for a moment, then took a large step backwards. Given her steady progress downwards until she was out of sight Obi-Wan was somewhat relived to find a ladder built into the edge of the cliff upon closer inspection.
He followed her down, despite their mystery destination. The long sheer nature of the ladder made it impossible to see much other than sky and cliff face, and with the focus on him, he didn’t dare reach out specifically with the force.
Still, hand under hand, foot then foot became incredibly monotonous after a while and it was rather a surprise when Obi-Wan heard Eyassogo’s voice not from below, but from his right. “And step to the right.”
He glanced down to discover a thin ledge, thinner than the steps so far, reaching to the right. He tested it, gently. It seemed solid enough, providing he could keep his balance. And he’d never had a problem with that.
The ledge widened after a few metres, before turning a corner and becoming sufficiently broad that hugging the wall was no longer necessary. The stone walkway turned several more corners before widening even more and ending in….
“KRIFF.” Obi-Wan muttered noticing the giant stone cared arch, and the stone city carved into the three faces of the cave beyond.
“You want to know why they’re so desperate the barricade this planet Bani?” Eyassogo asked, grinning at his fascinated expression. “Welcome to the Smugglers’ Cave.”
“What sort of cave had a space port?” Obi-Wan asked, seeing a tiny shuttle leaving out of the fourth, almost completely open, side.
“This kind.” The boss said, pushing past them and through the stone archway heading down the stairs there.
“Come on Bani,” Eyassogo said, walking after him. “Let’s get you your seven, and then I’ll give you the grand tour.”
“Sounds good.” Obi-Wan followed her down the stairs, noting with interest the different levels that branched off, each held up by columns of seemingly uncarved rock that stretched far above his head. “How big is this place?”
“There’s room for a few thousand.” The smuggler said, ignoring Obi-Wan’s subtle attempts to check if there were any barriers along the side of the walkway. “But generally no more than a couple of hundred actually live here. It’s not quite Florrum, but we don’t get any Jedi down here either.”
“Hmm.” Technically that was still true. Although Obi-Wan did briefly wonder what Hondo would have made of all this.
Eyassogo turned down one of the sets of stairs before stepping onto a small platform outside one of the large stone buildings. “Come in, I’ll get the stuff.”
“Thanks.” Obi-Wan let the door close behind him. The room inside was large, clean and painted a sharp green colour. An odd choice, perhaps, for a smugglers lair, but at least it didn’t remind him of anywhere else. Or anyone else.
Ignoring his traitorous thoughts, Obi-Wan resumed assessing the room. It had a large desk dominating the space, with a large purple plant sitting next to it. Behind was several doors leading off to the rest of the building, and a secure cabinet, presumably holding the business information that wasn’t stored digitally.
“Here you go,” Eyassogo returned through the central door and tossed Obi-Wan a heavy bag. He opened it to see the familiar coinage inside. “There’s your seven. Now, sit down, and we’ll talk about further jobs.”
He hefted the bag, “Many thanks.” The seat was ever so slightly uncomfortable. It might have just been a bad choice, but somehow Obi-Wan suspected it was deliberate. Never make your clients, or your contract employees, too comfortable. “Can I ask about the ship, we did just leave it-“
“Its fine,” Eyassogo interrupted. “Boss got some people with a scavenger ship to go and deal with it. Not like the ship itself’s reparable, but it was barely holding together but the time it entered orbit. We’ve got the cargo, and that’s what mattered, so thanks.”
“Just wondering.” Obi-Wan had indeed been wondering if the cargo was worth anything at all.
“Sorry about how hot it got by the way, it wasn’t that bad according to the last recon, or else you’d have gotten hazard pay. You’d have got it anyway, but you also totalled the ship, and ‘twas your first job, so…”
“ ‘s alright. I’m relieved to be paid.” Maybe he could actually started helping people on this dammed rock.
Eyassogo flashed him a brief smile before rummaging around in the desk and pulling out a flexipad and a sheet of paper. She passed both over. “So, I don’t know if you’re interested in future employment with us, but if you’d like the option, this is a shush- sorry a non-disclosure agreement, both a copy for you to take away and one for us on the flexipad. If you want to read through those, make sure they’re the same, and what you’d be agreeing to.”
“Thanks,” Obi-Wan picked up the paper document, giving it a quick skim. The legalese was thick and fast. He glanced at the author’s name. “Import-Export specialist and Lawyer?”
“Just call me a smuggler, this place has its name for a reason.” Eyassogo said, flicking through some reading of her own. “But yes, the two are needed more often than you’d think.”
“hmm,” Obi-Wan began skimming the second document, checking it was the same as the first. As the smuggler-lawyer had said, it was a surprisingly standard document. Not that he’d had to sign a lot of them, Jedi had usually been exempt. “Alright, do you have a pen?” She passed him a pen and, after a brief final moment of deliberation, trying to see if the force pulled him one way or another without having the time or ability to slip into meditation, Obi-Wan signed both non-disclosure agreements.
He handed the flexiplast back to Eyassogo.
She skimmed through for a moment, checked he’d signed it, then put the plast away. “Right then, I guess it’s time to show you the rest of the operation, but first, do you want lunch?”
The night before a big battle, Obi-Wan finds himself brooding over what is to come. Padme and Anakin have other plans.
Ao3
To take heart – to receive courage or comfort from some fact.
It took a lot to be hopeful these days, Obi-Wan thought. He stood on the edge of the camp looking over what would be tomorrow’s battlefield. Another joint mission, another battle in the long war. How many men would he loose tomorrow? It could be him, it could be Anakin? Or Ahsoka, or Cody or Rex, or any of them. How long could he keep doing this?
Worse, this was only supposed to be a diplomatic mission. The envoys bringing supplies for the refugees would be almost as vulnerable as the men, and far less battle hardy.
Well, Obi-Wan thought as a figure settled beside him, most of them would be.
“It’s not a pretty sight, is it?” Senator Padme Amidala said, matching his gaze over the soon to be battlefield.
“It’ll be a lot worse tomorrow.” Obi-Wan said. The little moonlight there was vanished, disappearing behind a cloud. There was the sound of a scuffle behind him and someone tripped over. A bout of swearing broke out, then was hushed. Peace, such as it was, settled. “What can I do for you Senator?”
“I’m not on duty,” Padme said softly, instead of answering the question.
“Padme,” Obi-Wan corrected.
She sighed lightly, “Come inside, please, have a drink with us. Tomorrow will be bad enough without you living it today.”
“I’m on watch.”
“Fives is on watch.” Padme corrected. “You’re watching. There’s a difference.”
Obi-Wan didn’t move.
“Come,” Padme gently placed her hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Don’t make me stand out here all night with you.”
“You could go in.” He pointed out. A flock of birds swept down over the field. For a moment that was all it was. A field.
“I’m not leaving you on your own.” She said.
“There you are.” Anakin Skywalker drew alongside them, boxing Obi-Wan in. He glanced at the field, before turning back to face them. “Tomorrow is tomorrow.”
“It’s nearly today.” Padme pointed out, briefly glancing at her chrono.
“It is also yesterday, and last week, and last year.” Obi-Wan said. “Tomorrow is every day, in the past and in the future.”
“You sound like Yoda, except less backwards.” Anakin said, not bothering to work out what his friend meant.
“The war will end.” Padme insisted.
“This one will, and the next, and the next.”
“And one day there will be no reason to go to war.” Anakin interrupted. “It’s not an eternal cycle.” He placed his hand on Obi-Wan’s right shoulder.
“Are you sure that’s a good thing?” Obi-Wan asked.
Neither of them answered.
The moon appeared from behind the cloud again, dimly illuminating the camp. There was the cry of “There it is!” followed by hushing noises in the background. Almost silence fell again.
Eventually it broke, “How’s Ahsoka-“
“Do you think-“
Obi-Wan and Anakin started at the same time. Then stopped.
“You go first,” Obi-Wan offered.
“No, you.” Anakin insisted.
“I was just going to ask how Ahsoka was doing, and how you’re doing with Ahsoka.”
“She’s fine, I think.” Anakin said, “I’m – okay.”
“Panicking?” Padme asked.
Anakin rolled his eyes, refusing to say yes.
Neither of the other two needed the verbal admission. A gust of wind blew across the site and Anakin shivered. Obi-Wan sighed, turned enough to notice the lack of coat, then lifted his right arm in an unspoken invitation. Anakin leant in, stooping a little to fit.
Padme leant onto Obi-Wan’s other shoulder. “You know you can talk to us right?”
“Right.”
“Not that we’re an us or anything.” Anakin added hurriedly to his wife’s remark. “Just two platonic vague friends, no real attachment there. Two individuals looking out for another for the good of the Republic and the Order.”
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said softly, “How dumb do you think I am?”
Padme sighed.
“Huh?”
“I’ve known about the two of you for quite some time. You need to work on your subtlety if you’re planning on keeping it a secret.” He considered it for a moment. “And possibly stage a breakup.”
“That bad?” Padme asked, while Anakin was trying to work out how this had happened.
“The only reason I haven’t said anything before now was because I was hoping one of you would tell me. Although,” Obi-Wan said, “I am closer to both of you than a lot of people, so it may be less obvious to say, the Jedi Council.”
“You’re on the Jedi Council.”
“Why now?”
Obi-Wan sighed, and answered their questions in order. “You both mean a lot more to me than a code. The only reason I said anything now, except to stop Anakin tripping over his own tongue, was because it occurred to me that we may all die tomorrow. I didn’t want to leave the impression that I didn’t approve.”
“Oh,” Anakin said.
“Are you sure you won’t come inside the tent for a bit?” Padme asked.
Obi-Wan was tired of sighing, he was tired of saying no. He was just tired. “I have got next watch.”
He hadn’t. Anakin knew that, but it would be pointless to point it out.
“It wouldn’t hurt to be a little warmer.” Obi-Wan gave in, “Might stop the barnacle here.”
“Barnacle?” Anakin had the distinct feeling he’d just been insulted.
“Sea creature, attaches onto the side of ships and then refuses to let go, found on some mid-rim aquatic planets. ” Obi-Wan explained.
“Right,” Anakin frowned, ducking out from under Obi-Wan’s arm, instead grabbing his hand. “Come on,”
With some objections Obi-Wan let himself be led into the small tent Anakin had claimed for his own, and Padme had subsequently ‘subtly’ moved in to.
Inside there was a rug, a small chest and a large hammock.
Obi-Wan shot Anakin a glance.
“It’s more comfortable than the bunks.” He said, sitting down on the rug and tugging Obi-Wan down with him.
Padme opened the trunk which, contrary to Obi-Wan’s expectations, did not contain her wardrobe, but instead a bottle of Corellian Brandy, and three glasses. She poured a little in each, passing one to each of them. Then she closed the trunk, and sat down opposite them.
“To the three of us,” Padme raised her glass. “May we survive this in health.”
“To us,” Anakin and Obi-Wan repeated self-consciously, draining their glasses.
Padme refilled them.
“So how are you doing?” She asked Obi-Wan, swirling her glass.
“I’m fine.”
“Really?” Anakin asked. “Really?”
“There is-“
“Do not quote the fucking code at me.” Anakin interrupted. Obi-Wan suspected he might have been drinking before he’d come out to find them.
Instead of answering he settled on taking another large sip from his glass.
“Anakin,” Padme said softly,
“Sorry,” Anakin murmured, “It shouldn’t be a big deal. I’ve just got –“
“A bad feeling about tomorrow,” Obi-Wan finished. “Me too.”
“Well,” Padme said, and placed her empty glass down on the chest. She brushed her hand over Obi-Wan’s knee on the way past. He didn’t object, his eyes following the hand. “As I said out there, tomorrow is no reason to be morose tonight.”
“Right,” Anakin sat up straighter, and passed his wife his glass. “No need to be morose or on your own.”
Padme shook her head at him. Not the time. “Take heart Obi-Wan, the war will be over soon.”
“Will it?”
“Then take heart that you will never be alone.” Padme said, reaching over and squeezing his knee.
“Yeah, if I go before you I’m haunting your ass, and I don’t care how impossible it is.” Anakin said, patting his friends other knee. He left his hand there.
Obi-Wan looked down at his knees, covered in his usual leggings, and now two people’s hands. He debated whether or not he should say anything. Instead of raising the point directly he said: “It occurs to me that I seem to be the only one still drinking. That seems terribly impolite.” He made to pass his empty glass towards Padme, who was sitting in front of the trunk. She took it in her other hand, and placed it on the chest without turning around.
“I guess that there’s no benefit to being hungover tomorrow.” Padme smiled at him, then at Anakin.
Anakin smiled at her, running his other hand through his hair. “Relaxed though, there’s benefits to that.” He took Padme’s spare hand in his.
“Right then,” Obi-Wan shifted backwards, dislodging the hands, and stood up. “That seems to be my cue to go. Thank-you for the drink and the company but you two clearly have other things on your mind and I have watch.”
“No you don’t.” Anakin said softly.
“You could stay.” Padme added.
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.
“You could stay.” Padme got up, and brushed imaginary dirt off her trousers. “Stop me at any time.” She took a step forward as Anakin shuffled backwards, then stood up out of the way.
Padme cupped Obi-Wan’s face in her hands. He gulped. “May I?” She asked, looking directly at his lips.
He stayed very, very still. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he nodded.
Padme smiled, then darted in and kissed him, a gentle press of lips that seemed all too short. Obi-Wan sighed, a much happier sigh than Anakin had ever heard out of him.
“Anakin come here.” Obi-Wan sounded breathless.
Anakin took a step towards them, then another. Obi-Wan shifted so they were exactly facing each other. “How long have you been planning this?”
“Not long enough,” Anakin groaned then leant down and kissed him firmly. “Not long enough.”
“How comfortable are you?” Padme asked.
Obi-Wan glanced at the hammock. “On the floor more so than that thing.” He turned back to Anakin. “You weren’t thinking ahead were you?”
“I thought you said we’d been planning this?” Anakin said.
“When were plans ever your strong point?” Obi-Wan joked.
“True,” Padme said, “He’s far more of a make it up as you go along sort of person.”
“Angel,” Anakin kissed her.
Obi-Wan smiled at both of them. “So forgive me if I’m reading this wrong, but I think we’re all wearing too many clothes.”
Anakin grinned, and pulled his tunics off with indecent haste. “Working on it.”
The tent flap pulled open. “Sirs, the Sepies are moving- ugh.” Rex backed out of the tent. “When you’re decent.”
“Sorry Rex.” Anakin called out. Then he turned to Obi-Wan. “Take heart, both companies are going to know by tomorrow.”
Obi-Wan groaned. “Your fault.”
“You’re the one who said we were wearing too many clothes.” Anakin protested.
Padme sighed. “Shouldn’t you two be out there fighting?”
“Right,” Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin who had his tunics over his head.
STEVE IS COMMANDER AND PUTS TOGETHER THE AVENGERS TEAM AND TONY’S JUST LIKE “I UNDERSTAND IF YOU DON’T WANT ME ON” BUT STEVE JUST SMILES AND PLAYFULLY PUNCHES HIS ARM AND IS ALL “NAAH, BRO IT’S COOL” BUT THEN TONY FEELS THIS TWINGE OF GUILT IN HIS CHEST, BUT IT ISN’T HIS?????
LIKE THERE’S THIS LONGING
THIS FEELING OF SOMETHING BEING LOST
LIKE IT’S SO CLOSE, SO WITHIN REACH, BUT SO UNATTAINABLE
AND HE HAS NO IDEA WHERE THE FUCK IT’S COMING FROM
BUT THEN HE NOTICES THAT HE ONLY GETS IT WHEN STEVE’S AROUND
AND HE NOTICES HOW STEVE’S SMILES ARE ALWAYS FORCED
AND HOW HIS EYES NEVER SHINE AND JUST LOOK SO... SO DEAD INSIDE
