From the very first moment that they met, Xanatos Omega knew they were supposed to.

Which was a big deal for him because he didn't believe in destiny or fate. He knew these views could be and probably were considered contradictory or hypocritical, considering his chosen lifestyle as a padawan learner. Many beings who were not familiar with the Jedi considered their "ancient religion" to be nothing but fate and the knights themselves gods with the gift to control destiny. Xanatos knew, of course, that the Force controlled everything. This was the reality, and all that he believed in. There was no destiny; there was no fate. Such words had no place in his vocabulary.

So, when the strong feeling accosted him as they passed each other in the quietly serene halls of the Temple, Xanatos had halted in his steps, silently contemplating the boy.

And he'd boldly stared right back at him, surprising him again.

It was a rare occurrence indeed when anyone was brave enough to make eye-contact with Xanatos Omega. Even some of the young Jedi who had already been knighted avoided his eyes as they crossed each other's paths in the vast halls of the Temple. Because in order to acknowledge him in such a way, they would first need to believe that they were at least equals in their strength; an impossibility most of the time, to be sure.

And yet here was this boy, calmly looking up into his intimidating gaze. Xanatos continued to survey him for countless moments, until the boy's guardian, who passed the senior padawan a wary glance, hurried him along with the others she was leading down the hallway. Xanatos blinked his striking green eyes, astonished. Their eye-contact had broken and yet strangely the spell had not.

And so, Xanatos had been late for his mission with his Master because it was a few minutes before he could clear his mind enough to move on from that spot in the hallway. He decided not to bring up this peculiar matter with his Master as he finally met up with him outside of their apartment, shrugging his shoulder in an off-handed apology for his tardiness.

'And why would I?' he asked himself as Qui-Gon sighed wearily; the older man nodded slightly as he realized he would not be receiving any explanations or further apologies from his rather prideful padawan.

What a strange conversation that would be, Xanatos mused. Obi-Wan Kenobi was only three years old, after all.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Qui-Gon Jinn heaved a weary sigh as he vacated the large and aesthetically spacious Jedi Council-room. Frustration and nerves nearly caused him to slam the door before he remembered himself and his location. His annoyance was palpable, he knew, yet instead of attempting to calm himself, he merely threw up tighter mental shields so as not to disturb anyone around him. It took all of his self-control not to stamp down the halls as he made the trek back to his quarters. His body was on auto-pilot, giving his mind enough time to think before he actually completed his journey.

What had the Council been thinking? Hang the Council. What had Master Yoda been thinking? Hadn't the revered Jedi Master just spoken with him about the unease he was feeling about his powerful apprentice? 'In need of a test he is,' Yoda had said. Well, the test part Qui-Gon could understand. But this? Qui-Gon wanted to shout his frustrations down the halls at the top of his lungs. And why shouldn't he? Everyone else around here seemed to have gone insane, anyway, and – oh, Force, how had he made it back to the apartment already? What was he supposed to say?

Taking a deep breath, he braced himself and palmed open the door…

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Upon seeing his Master's pinched face, Xanatos quickly switched off the HoloNet News, cutting his favorite reporter off mid-shout. "Master?" he asked warily, mentally wincing when Qui-Gon shot him a shaky smile that did not quite meet his eyes.

"Good afternoon, Padawan." He greeted, false cheer coating his voice.

Xanatos frowned. "Master," he repeated, though this time the title was void of a question. The true meaning behind it was perfectly clear: What the hell is going on, and don't you dare lie to me.

The implication was apparently lost on Qui-Gon. "How were your classes today?" he asked, a mild (and also false, Xanatos noted) interest lighting his eyes.

"Fine," Xanatos shrugged absently. "Master, what's going on?"

Qui-Gon was wearing his best innocently surprised face. "Nothing, Padawan; why do you ask?" Xanatos blinked, unconvinced. There was a pause. Then, "Anyway, Xanatos, I was just speaking with the Council and –"

Oh, no.

"- they've decided to send you on a solo…mission."

…What?

"Oh?" he asked. What was this all of a sudden? For weeks now, Master Yoda had been watching him when he'd thought he wasn't looking, practically stalking him. He'd been under the impression that he wasn't trusted. Feared, even. That'd made him smile. And now the little green troll wanted to send him out on a mission, unsupervised? Something about this situation was not adding up.

When Qui-Gon did not answer him – his eyes were vacant as he appeared to be lost in thought – Xanatos rose from their shared living room sleep-couch in one fluid motion and made to walk past his Master and into his personal quarters, intending to prepare himself for his upcoming mission.

"No, Xanatos," Qui-Gon corrected, placing his large hand on Xanatos' shoulder, stopping him. "You don't need to pack anything."

Confused, Xanatos raised a single ebony eyebrow.

"You, um…" the Jedi Master cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "You won't be going far. In fact, you, uh, won't even have to leave the Temple." He flashed his padawan a bright smile, as if this news was supposed to please him.

"I… won't?" If his tone did not indicate to his Master that Qui-Gon's news was having the exact opposite effect on him, then his deep scowl surely would.

Slowly, the false excitement on Qui-Gon's face melted away. He seemed to have run out of vague information to share with his apprentice; if he wasn't careful, he'd wind up telling him something important.

'Force forbid it,' Xanatos scoffed. The day that Qui-Gon Jinn actually opened up to his padawan of eight years would be the day that Hoth melted.

Qui-Gon shook his head. "No. Just… follow me." And, turning on his heel, arms tucked into his sleeves, he strode to the door he'd only just recently entered.

Slowly, Xanatos followed, his thoughts personifying a broken record.

'I have a bad feeling about this...'

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

He could not have been more right.

"You must be joking."

If Qui-Gon had been expecting this reaction from him, he did not show it. "Don't say that. Master Che might hear you."

Xanatos fought back a snarl. Who cared if she heard him? He didn't care if Master Yoda himself had heard –

From behind him, there came the sound of someone clearing their throat… and the other more ominous sound of a centuries-old gimer stick tapping the ground impatiently. Xanatos whirled around, not bothering to hide the scowl on his face. "Hmmm? A problem with your mission have you, Padawan Omega?"

Ignoring the warning look that Qui-Gon shot him, Xanatos glared at the aging Master. "Yes, Master Yoda, I do," he answered truthfully. When Yoda did not speak, the young Telosian continued his rant. "There must be some mistake. This is the crèche."

Hiding a smile, Master Yoda nodded. "Yes."

Despite himself, Xanatos risked a glance past the half-door in front of him. "Full of crechlings."

Another nod, a more prominent smile. "As they tend to be."

Ignoring Qui-Gon's irritated sigh, Xanatos shook his head. "This isn't funny. Master Yoda, Qui-Gon," he glanced at his own Master in passing before continuing, "you both know that I'm ready to take the trials. Why do you insist on wasting my time with this 'mission' when I am clearly ready for real solo missions?"

There was a prolonged silence. Qui-Gon, apparently shocked into silence, had nothing to say, no apologies to offer the revered Jedi Master on his padawan's behalf. Then, as the small Master looked into Xanatos' eyes, searching, "Nothing more to learn have you?"

Xanatos did not blink. "I am ready for the trials."

Closing his eyes, Yoda sighed deeply. "Then even more required this lesson is."

What? Xanatos wanted to shout. "Master Yoda –"

"Oh, is this him?" a feminine voice asked from inside the crèche, successfully interrupting Xanatos' outraged reply.

Yoda smiled. "Ah, Master Vokara Che," he greeted warmly.

"Hello, Master Yoda," she welcomed him in return, a soft smile apparent in her sing-song voice. Xanatos glanced over to see her leaning on the half-door, her chin propped in her hands.

Qui-Gon cleared his throat. "Yes, Master Che, this is my apprentice, Xanatos Omega."

Vokara Che looked him up and down, as if sizing him up as an opponent. Gone was her pleasant smile of a few moments ago; her lips pressed into a thin line as she nodded at him. "Is there a problem, Padawan Omega?" she asked.

Fed-up with this nonsense and up to his chin in frustration, Xanatos did not care whether he was going to offend her or not and marched the three paces to the half-door in fuming silence. Pasting an angry smile on his face, he began, "Why, yes, there is a problem, Master Che. You see, I –" Xanatos broke off his tantrum mid-sentence and stared, wide-eyed into the room full of younglings.

He was not aware of when he'd opened the half-door, or how long it took him to walk across the room. He did not know whether Qui-Gon and Master Yoda were still watching him or not, and by the Force, he did not care.

Standing in the near-center of the crèche, holding the small, maroon hand of a baby Mon Calamari and quietly observing Xanatos' trek across the room with mild interest, was the boy. The very same toddler who, nearly three months previous, had halted the proud padawan in his steps. Even now, Xanatos realized with increasingly piqued fascination, that feeling of purpose was tugging on the strings of his heart.

And here he didn't even know the child's name. Well, Xanatos mused to himself, that was one answer that he could easily find out on his own.

Reaching his destination at last, Xanatos stopped in front of the pair of children and offered the little boy with those beautifully soft blue-gray eyes a rare smile. When the youngling's own face lit up with a happily returned smile of his own, the black-haired teenager felt the corners of his mouth twitch into an even wider grin.

He knelt down slowly in front of the boy so as not to alarm him; he didn't seem like he would scare so easily, but Xanatos did not want to take any chances. Not with this one. If the child's continued bright smile was any indication, it seemed to Xanatos that his cautious efforts had paid off – though the tiny salmon-colored girl immediately emitted a frightened little squeak and jumped behind her friend until nothing but a single, frightened, silver-colored eye was visibly left of her.

Ignoring the little alien's discomfort in his presence, he asked the question that his mind was demanding to know. "What's your name?" The youngling opened his small mouth to answer, only to be interrupted by the alarmed shout of another crechling.

"Obi-Wan!"

Surprised, Xanatos glanced around. He looked up just in time to see a little human boy with vibrantly crimson-red hair dashing over to them as quickly as his short legs would carry him. The boy – Obi-Wan? – did not seem to share Xanatos' surprise at the sight and his tone was almost expectant, as if this sort of confrontment occurred regularly. He spoke his friend's name, inadvertently introducing them just as the excited and defensive red-head had for him and Obi-Wan.

"Garen?"

Upon reaching the three, the boy immediately thrust himself in front of his two young friends, arms spread wide, effectively – as the young boy obviously thought – shielding them from this new dark threat. Xanatos wasn't sure whether to be amused or angry. Despite his confusion, however, he could not stop his lips from lifting into a cruel smirk.

"Really, kid?" he asked, deciding he was amused, after all. For now, at least. When Garen made no move to stand aside – despite Obi-Wan's quiet reassurances – Xanatos continued to berate him. "You're what, three?"

Garen scowled. "Four."

"I'm three!" Obi-Wan interjected cheerfully. Oh. Upon closer inspection, Xanatos noted that Garen was, in fact, almost an entire head taller than Obi-Wan.

Xanatos grinned. "And I'm seventeen. And a lot bigger than you. Now, do you really think this is helping anything?" he asked.

The little red-head blatantly ignored the padawan's logic. "I'm not letting you anywhere near Obi-Wan," he alleged stubbornly.

Xanatos quirked an ebony-colored eyebrow. Clearly, this kid was not giving up. "Oh?" he asked. "And why not?"

Garen narrowed his eyes mistrustfully. "Because," he said, his voice insinuating that the answer was clearly common sense. "You're a stranger."

Xanatos blinked. "Oh." His eyes flickered back to the other child. "Hello, Obi-Wan."

He was interrupted by a joyful outburst from the toddler. "Hello!"

Amused, Xanatos' lips twitched into a small smile. "My name is Xanatos. It's very nice to meet you."

"Xan…nakos…toros…Xani!" The happy smile never wavered on his tiny mouth as he attempted to sound out his name.

Xanatos smirked. "Xanatos," he corrected gently.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Xani!" And with that, he ran around Garen's outstretched arm and threw his arms round the startled senior padawan's neck. "Let's be friends, Xani, okay?"

The young Telosian smiled softly, hesitating only for a moment before scooping the boy up into his arms. "Of course." Rising to his feet, Xanatos propped the boy on his hip and looked around the room, taking stock of his grudgingly-accepted situation. That is, until he felt a sharp, swift pain in his shin.

"Haja!" he cursed, narrowing his brilliantly green eyes and glaring down at the little menace called Garen.

"Let. Him. GO!" Garen shouted, punctuating each word with a swift kick to the older boy's legs.

Xanatos scowled, annoyed, a rebelliously challenging look in his eyes. "No," he sneered down at the red-head. After all, who'd ever said he was good with children? Besides whoever had put his name down for this ridiculous mission, that is; namely, Master Yoda.

"Yes!"

"No."

From behind them came the sound of a throat being cleared and both jumped. "What's going on, here?" Che asked, a frown clearly heard in her voice. As Xanatos turned around, however, her eyes immediately lit up in amusement. "Oh. I see you've met Obi-Wan," she said, smiling at the toddler in Xanatos' arms. "And his rather over-protective best friend," she nodded toward his nemesis with a fond look that could only have come from years' experience in dealing with this pair.

Xanatos followed her line of sight with an annoyed glare. "I believe that's an understatement," he muttered bitterly, shifting Obi-Wan's weight on his hip and rubbing at his bruised leg. If she heard him though, she did not acknowledge his plight. Stooping over, she scooped the little Mon Calamari child up into her arms.

"It's almost snack time. Does Bant want to help me set up?" she asked, smiling when the small alien nodded happily.

"No, wait, you're taking the wrong one!" Xanatos called after her as she turned toward the kitchen in the back. He frowned as he was ignored yet again. However, his attention was soon caught by the little boy in his arms.

"Are you okay, Xani?" Obi-Wan asked concernedly, nibbling on his little finger in his worry.

Xanatos smiled reassuringly and straightened up again, gently pulling the boy's finger from his mouth. "Mmm-hmm; I'm fine."

Obi-Wan frowned, unconvinced. "Does your leg hurt?"

"Only a little," he said.

Far from reassured, the toddler squirmed in his arms until he was facing his best friend. "Garen!" he admonished. "You have to say sorry, now."

The little red-head crossed his arms stubbornly with a pout. "Nuh-uh. No way."

"Garen," Obi-Wan scolded, scowling down at him in disapproval.

"That's all right, Obi-Wan; he doesn't have to say it."

"He doesn't?"

"I don't?"

Xanatos shook his head, hiding an evil smirk. "Nope. Not unless he wants to play with us," he revealed dramatically. "Now, let's you and I go over here and play, shall we?" he asked, not quite able to stifle his triumphant smile when Garen emitted a surprised little exclamation as he began to walk away, toting his prize along with him.

"What should we play?" Xanatos asked, glancing back at the frustrated four-year old gloatingly.

"Hmmm…" Obi-Wan tapped his finger against his lips thoughtfully, momentarily distracted from his anger by the question.

"I'm sorry!" Garen shouted, running after them. "I'm sorry, all right? Now put Obi-Wan down! Please?" he asked.

Obi-Wan smiled approvingly down at him. "Good job, Garen!" he praised. Garen grinned triumphantly.

"Hmmm. Are you really sorry?" Xanatos asked, grinning evilly.

Garen scowled, folding his arms over his chest. "Yes," he mumbled, looking away in a defeated sulk.

"Really, really-"

"Yes! Just put him down!" Garen demanded, stomping his foot angrily.

Xanatos pretended to think about it for a moment. "All right, fine," he said, having tortured the little imp enough, and set the boy on his own two feet again.

"What do you want to play, Garen?" Obi-Wan asked kindly.

Garen contemplated this question very seriously. "Hmmm…"

"Snack time!" Master Che called from the kitchen. "Obi-Wan, will you come help me pass out drinks?"

"Yes, Master Che!" Obi-Wan shouted, hurrying obediently over to the kitchen.

Smiling fondly, Xanatos started to follow him, only to be halted by a small fist curling into the fabric of his black tunic. Green eyes glared nastily down at his newfound enemy.

"This isn't over," the little red-haired terror alleged darkly, scowling up at him.

"Force forbid," he answered with a devilish smirk of his own. Swatting the small hand away from his clothing, he made his way to the kitchen in search of the little blue-eyed angel who had somehow managed to steal away a piece of even his cold and unfeeling heart.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

A/N: This is going to be a two or three-shot, haven't quite decided which yet.

But if you liked it and want more, click the review button down there to the left… yes, that's it!

See, I'm a pretty slow writer, but if I'm encouraged by enough reviews, I can churn out another chapter rather quickly. While story alerts and faves are charming in and of themselves, they are not a comment – how am I to know if you want me to write more if you don't tell me?

Note: Now, while I do enjoy slash pairings immensely – don't believe me? Check out my other fics and faves – this is not meant quite like that.

However – now, don't take this the wrong way, when I say eventual, I mean eventual – this is technically a prequel to an eventual Xanatos/Obi-Wan fanfiction that I have planned out. (I've got the outline and everything, just have to start my second draft.) The story is going to be a mixture of sweetness and action and I'm very excited about writing it. I haven't seen too many of them (Xani/Obi) out there, though, so I'm quite nervous about actually posting it.

Also, I don't remember if Xanatos is actually fourteen years older than Obi-Wan or not in the books, or if they are ever even at the Temple at the same time, but they are here because I say so. No flaming for that reason. ;j

Also, yes I know that Vokara Che is a healer, I just borrowed her for my own purposes because I like her.

That being said, review if you want a chapter two!

Thanks!