arguing over who should drive the car... or in this case, speeder. Obitine OR Bo'ket 😎 you choose 😝
Slowly making my way through the domestic prompts, though this one doesn't feel terribly domestic the way I wrote it! Hope you love it, my darling, even if it isn't full of bebes.
Drive
“Are you sure we can just take one?”
Obi-Wan sprinted after Satine as she ran from speeder to speeder, looking for one they that was unattended and ready to fly. “Yes, Satine! Just….stars, woman, just hurry!”
He ducked as a blaster bolt sizzled past his ear, wincing in pain as his mangled arm jostled with the movement. “Satine!”
“This one! This one is unlocked!”
He groaned. She was flinging open the door of a K5 900 as she called to him. The thing looked to be held together by nothing more than willpower and adhesive strips. There was no way they would outrun the bounty hunters in it. “There must be a better option.” Another blaster bolt screamed by, causing them both to duck and him to hiss in pain. “This will do fine. Get in.”
She jumped in behind the controls and he stopped, staring at her. “What are you waiting for?” she asked.
“Who said you were driving?”
“I believe your badly broken arm said it.”
“Satine, do you even know how to drive?”
“Get in the speeder, padawan!”
“Duchess, I must insist-”
“Obi-Wan Kenobi, get in the damn speeder. I do know how to drive, and, right now, we neither have the time nor you the correct number of limbs to argue about this. Let’s go!”
He started to protest again, but another blaster bolt cut through the air, perilously close to Satine’s head, only saved by Obi-Wan’s quick reflexes with his lightsaber. Even one handed, he deftly deflected it. Then moaned in pain, muttering “There is no pain, there is no pain, there is no pain,” through clenched teeth.
He jumped into the passenger side without further discussion. Satine slammed the speeder into the air, and he prayed the Force would protect them.
Later, after Satine’s shockingly impressive driving freed them from their pursuers, after she had gingerly splinted his broken arm, after he had dug out his comm and let Master Qui-Gon know they were safe and ready for pick up, he sat beside Satine on the bonnet of the ancient old K5-900, and watched the sunset beyond the cliffs, waiting for whatever pirate or smuggler or farmer would come along and pick them up for his master. Her head rested on his shoulder, and he pressed a kiss to her hair. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
“For what?”
“For saving my shebs with your stellar driving skills today.”
She laughed, and sat up, kissing his cheek. “Thank you for setting aside that pride of yours.”
He snorted indignantly. “How was I to know you knew how to drive like that?”
“I guess the topic of my uncle, the champion air speeder racer who taught me how to drive would never come up in our day to day conversations.”
This time he laughed. “Your what?!”
She replied by kissing him, pulling him close, one hand twining his padawan braid through her fingers as the other cupped his cheek.
He knew it was wrong. He knew it every time they stole a kiss from the other.
But he didn’t care.
This girl. This remarkable girl with the starlight hair. This girl made him just not care, for once in his young life.
He did care, however, that she was a better driver than him. But the rest? The code and the attachment and all the rest? That all could slide to the wayside.
All for this remarkable girl.