Are we human, or are we dancers?
Foaming with rage I ran through our apartment straight into my room. Only seconds later I heard a soft knock on my door and Obi-Wan gazed into the room with this typical "My-Padawan-just-slammed-a-door-how-many-times-have-I-told-him-expression" on his boyish face that managed to drive me up the walls even if I was in a good mood.
And I was in everything but a good mood today.
As he saw me curled up in my armchair he tried in vain to hide a smirk and nonchalantly sat down on my bed.
"Oh, Anakin, what's it this time? Which girl am I supposed to shoot with lethal glares for the next centuries because she's broken your heart?"
I struggled for a dignified face but failed according to Obi-Wan's suppressed laughter.
"It's not like that. It's not a girl!"
Oh, if he could read my mind just for a moment he would know immediately how wrong he was…
"Did you get this invitation, too?"
As a reply he smoothly waved with a pink envelope.
"Oh Force…"
I collapsed in my armchair, face buried in my hands. Obi-Wan stared at me with blank looks.
"I don't want to be rude, Padawan…"
Now it was my turn to hide a grin because only the imagination of Obi-Wan being rude was ridiculous.
"…but what the Force is the matter with you?"
"Have you read your invitation? We have to dance, Master!"
"Well, it's a ball, Ani. Usually people dance there."
Still he didn't seem to grasp my problem.
"Master…? I cannot dance!"
His grimace would normally have made me laugh.
"But you had dancing lessons last year with Master Driadne! Where the Force have you been?"
Between his eyes there was this "Padawan-don't-tell-me-you-have-wrinkle" that I only knew too well and that usually meant at least two hours of meditating. I stared at my toes uncomfortably.
"Well, I guess… I have skipped those lessons with Ferus…because dancing is for girls!"
As I dared to look up, I noticed to my surprise that Obi-Wan looked rather amused than annoyed.
"But what do you think we are doing all the time with our sabers?"
"That's something completely different!"
"It's not. Now I know why you've never been able to beat me until now!"
Although I was ashamed his grin was simply adorable!
"Yesterday I almost kicked your saber!"
"But only because Mace came in and told me to let you live so that you could do the wash-up, Ani!"
"Oh, stop calling me "Ani", I'm already eighteen!"
"Stop calling me "Master", I'm only thirty-four! And most of all stop pouting. I'll give you a crash-course. Give me your hand."
I was a little confused and embarrassed. I hated making a fool of myself in front of my Master, and that was inevitable for I had never danced before. On the other hand I would finally be close to him…
"Come on, Padawan, it won't hurt. Give me your hand."
Encouraged I stepped forward and gave him a smug handshake. Probavly this was like dueling where you had to bow to your opponent as a sign of respect…
To my surprise Obi-Wan burst into a laugh. I went flaming red. What had I done wrong?
"Well… nearly, Anakin!"
With a wide grin he took my both hands into his, folded my left into his right and put my right hand onto his hip. I flushed even more, but he didn't seem to be embarrassed at all.
As he explained different paces, I tried to listen although it was not easy to focus with my hand on his hip…
And then suddenly he freed from my grip and left the room, but before my obscured mind could recover enough to wonder he returned with his arms full of HoloDisks.
"Count yourself lucky that I have some tapes with music.
I counted myself lucky that I had found my breath again.
"Wow, I thought possessions are forbidden!"
"As you may notice, these are teaching aids!"
And then beautiful sounds flew through the air and I was flying, I was gliding along in the arms of Obi-Wan, and it was easy, it was fascinating, it was brilliant. I deeply breathed in his scent of peppermint and honey, touched his hip through far too many layers of cloth and felt his heartbeat that easily melted with the music.
It was like accelerating to Hyperroom, like flying somersaults and loopings, like sparring in a rhythm our breath gave us.
And then, as I thought I would burn up, melt in my Master's arms, it was over, paradise stopped by a simple knock on the door. Obi-Wan force-pushed the button of the HoloDisk reader, the music died down and he opened the door, his cheeks the tiniest bit of flushed.
I wasn't that self-composed, my legs were shaking, my cheeks were burning and I collapsed on my bed, trying to calm my breath and my heart that beat frantically.
I guess I was not very successful until I heard Obi-Wan's voice again in the Living Room, and I knew the second voice, too, that was briefing him in a stern manner.
"…have to leave immediately, Obi-Wan. I'm sorry, but the situation on Ennis…"
Disenchanted I let myself relapse on the bed. I didn't need to hear more. It was always the same. My busy Master was sent from mission to mission, people loved and trusted him and his abilities. Negotiating where others would fight, fight where others would give up and all that with a twinkle in his sea-blue eyes and a sarcastic comment on his lips.
He never mentioned how tiring his live was, he always focused and smiled and had an open ear for everybody. It was me who woke up in the middle of the night and found him curled up on the sofa, too tired to go to bed, it was me who reminded him to eat, it happened that he forgot that for days, and it was me who always saw him rushing out the door with a good-bye on his lips and a rueful expression in his eyes and no time for his Padawan. I didn't blame him, I just blamed the Jedi Council…and my own stupid, heart that longed for those rare hours with him where he was just Obi-Wan, not General Kenobi.
Still talking with Mace Windu my Master threw some tunics in his old leather bag and tried in vain to pack his MedPac. I stood up to help him, got a grateful smile and a short "good-bye", and the last thing I saw was a thatch of beautiful ginger hair dancing through the crowd of Jedi and disappear behind a corner.