A/N: This is the first of several chapters. Updates shouldn't be too sporadic. Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading. :) (For purposes of the timeline, the second-half of Watson's "Secrets of the Jedi" does not apply.)

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Siri Tachi decided to just show up one morning, robes torn and blonde hair going prematurely white. There was a knock at Kenobi's door.

He had never attempted to entertain the notion that she was still alive. The sky was still dark; he didn't dare to budge from his bed, convinced that he had only been dreaming of her Force-signature becoming tangible.

A knock, of all things.

Then she was outside, her head down, eyes raised. She tried to speak a few times before clinging to him.

He spoke first, blinking away tears. "Am I dead?"

Siri pressed her lips to his, and cupped her rough hands to his bearded face. She shook her head. "You're most certainly alive."

He snaked an arm around her neck, drawing her in as close as he could. With hands on either side of his face, she traced his cheekbones with her thumbs. Their foreheads met, and both closed their eyes.

Squeezing her shoulders, he looked down at her. "How did you find me?"

She paused. "Organa owed me a favor from way back. So he gave me a couple of hints."

Most of all, Obi-Wan was relieved that her answer wasn't I felt your heart breaking all the way from Coruscant.

They quickly made up for lost time as they held and touched. His body was tired -- it was always tired -- but it had never craved anything this badly since when he was a teenager. Siri sighed as each caress through the wrinkled, stiff fabric of her tunics sent pleasurable currents to the center of her belly. Obi-Wan's nerve endings seemed to tingle and then ignite as she worked her fingers down his neck. The assumed-murdered love of his life was pressed against him, not in a dream, but here, in the very real -- and very warm, very soft... -- flesh, and all he could think of was the Code.

Both of them snapped their heads toward the west as they heard a kyrat dragon letting out a howl in the distance.

Look where the damn Code had gotten them.

"Maybe you should close the door," she breathed.

"That's a good idea."

As the weeks passed, two lonely Jedi began to share a bed and a routine.

An extra person in Obi-Wan's living arrangement was cramped, but extremely welcomed. They would take turns harvesting the day's food from the small desert garden while the other prepared it. Both gathered water from the lone moisture vaporator. Siri wanted to learn more as much as she could about the other inhabitants, so they did the monthly shopping and trading in Mos Eisely together. They would closely watch each other's backs, keeping careful watch over the crowds. Before trekking home, they would stop at a cantina for a drink and whatever limited, filtered Imperial news was offered.

And of course, they exercised as much as they could.

Sometimes for the entire day.

Kenobi let head crash back against his pillow. His haggard breathing took a few minutes to return to normal.

Tachi positioned herself on top of his chest, with one hand on his forearm. She put the other one over his frantic heart.

"You're getting old," she accused.

"I guess you'll... you'll have to... trade me in for a new model." He took the hand over his heart into his own and raised it to his lips.

She looked disappointed. "But this one fits me so well."

It's true, Obi-Wan thought. Her head and the crook of his neck fit together like puzzle pieces. As well as other parts.

Her grin was playful. At 18 or 39, anyone would be exhausted after three hours of bliss; they could afford a nap before dinner, she reasoned.

Obi-Wan pressed her to him, and started to feel her tracing her fingers over his forearm. Siri lazily stroked the unique burns near his shoulder. As much as she insisted on wasting their precious bacta supply on them, they never seemed to heal. They almost look like lightsaber wounds, she often thought.

"Mrmm," he grumbled half-heartedly.

She kissed the area gently. "Am I ever going to find out what those are from?"

"Someday."

Siri had her share of geological oddities, too.

"I think this one is the most interesting."

Obi-Wan pressed his palm to a vibrant crimson scar trailing across her collar bone.

"Dantooine," she declared, patting it with her fingers. Obi-Wan nodded. He knew she had been flying a refugee mission over Dantooine when her troopers had shot her down. "Dashboard controls almost snapped my neck upon impact," she said.

"They didn't check to see if you were dead?" He raised an eyebrow.

She smiled coyly. "Four clones came to check. None reported back."

Obi-Wan grinned. "That's my girl." He blushed and looked off to the side as soon as the words left his mouth.

Kenobi had never been the warmest of Siri's friends. Despite his caring nature, his affection was never displayed as more than a proud pat on the back to his Padawan, or a supportive smile to old comrades. Even though there was a known, mutual attraction, she could have only imagined him as a timid lover. Siri had been more than pleased to find that Obi-Wan's shyness seemed to, on the contary, deepen his physical passion.

"Hey. Oafy."

He turned his eyes back to her, still visibly embarrassed about what he had called her. She raised his chin to her eye level.

"Your girl. Always."