Summary: For Ahsoka's first mission with the fledgling Rebellion, Bail Organa sends her and Artoo to meet an old friend on Tatooine.

Notes: Ahsoka and Obi-Wan's first meeting after 'Revenge of the Sith'. Ahsoka Tano POV.

The Wizard of the Wastes

A young Togruta female known as Fulcrum slouched in her seat, in a darkened corner of the Cantina, and did her best to remain inconspicuous. This place really was unsavory. She'd thought, from Bail's explanation of her mission and the memories of the one-time she'd been on this planet, that she'd have to do her best not to be noticed as a Jedi. Former Jedi.

Now, she was thinking that she had to do her best not to be noticed as young and female and marginally attractive.

That's what came of visiting a planet controlled by the Hutts.

Ahsoka sighed and slouched down even further, grateful for the hood which concealed her features. She grimaced as her sleeve stuck in something congealed onto the table and eyed the drink the bartender brought her with no small amount of suspicion. The bartender – a human male who looked grizzled enough and jumpy enough to have fought in the Clone Wars – seemed faintly embarrassed.

"You sure you don't want to go somewhere else?" he asked her gruffly.

Artoo, staying as quiet as possible by her side, beeped gently and swiveled his domed head to take in the other patrons of this over-crowded, seedy place once more.

"I'm fine," Ahsoka reassured him, placing a hand on Artoo's dome and trying to smile up at the bartender. She hadn't found much to smile at in the past couple of years and the expression required muscles not often used. "Thank you for letting me bring my droid in here with me," she said sincerely.

The man grunted and eyed Artoo with disfavor. "Droids are all thieving traitors," he opined belligerently, confirming Ahsoka's suspicions that he had fought against the CID – probably in one of the nastier engagements in the Clone Wars. "But seeing as how you're otherwise alone…" he moved his disapproving eyes back up to her "…and weaponless…" He trailed off and shrugged, seeming to try and peer beneath her cloak for a blaster of some kind.

Ahsoka bit back her automatic response of, 'No Jedi is weaponless,' and was slightly glad that she'd left her lightsabers hidden on her ship. A Clone Wars veteran would undoubtedly recognize a lightsaber when he saw one, and that would bring about more questions than she wanted to answer. Get in, get out. That was her motto.

"I'll be alright," she told him again, trying to sound confident. In truth, Ahsoka didn't like anything about Tatooine from what she had seen of it, and she had no idea how Bail even had a contact all the way out here, let alone why he needed one. This dust-strewn dung-heap was so remote that not even the Empire seemed to be bothering with it very much.

In fact, some of the locals seemed to be under the impression that there was still a Republic.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," the bartender said ominously, before limping off back behind the counter. Several of the other patrons shouted new orders at him as he went.

Ahsoka took another look around her for good measure. Not much had changed in the past several minutes. The all-Bith band played something light and catchy in the corner, the bar was lined with notorious criminals, smugglers and spice runners from all over the Outer Rim, and the darkened booths were filled with spies, assassins and those running from Imperial justice.

Like herself.

She wished, for the ninth time since leaving the spaceport, that she had her lightsabers without her. Jedi or not, she felt naked without them.

Artoo whistled comfortingly by her side. He sounded almost excited. Ahsoka grunted. "That makes one of us," she told him.

Artoo mysteriously suggested that that was because he knew things that she did not.

"Oh yeah? And what might that be?"

His smug beep caused her to scowl at him.

"You're becoming even worse in your old age," she informed him, bemused but also vaguely amused at his behavior.

Takes one to know one, he shot back, and she forbore to argue any further, having the sneaking feeling that she was being soundly beaten by a droid.

She took a sip of the Bantha mild, a local, non-alcoholic specialty apparently, and almost gagged. Ugh, gross.

Artoo released a series of beeps denoting laughter.

"I'm sure the oil in Mos Eisley isn't any better than the milk," she murmured absently. The Force had whispered strangely for a moment, almost swelling in intensity. She had missed something.

Something dangerous? She looked around again but didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. A humanoid figure in a worn cloak, probably male from the walk, had entered the cantina. Ahsoka couldn't see his face under the hood of his garment, but it was the type of thing a vagabond would wear around her, she'd noticed, so she only paid him a bit of attention as he moved through the crowd towards the bar and hailed the attention of the surly bartender.

Once more Ahsoka puzzled through Bail's strangely-suppressed excitement when he'd assigned her this mission. He wouldn't meet her eyes as he'd handed over the coordinates and from anyone else she would have found this suspicious, suspected them of leading a wanted Jedi fugitive into a trap, but not from Bail, not from Padmé Amidala's friend.

And besides, he had sent Artooie with her. It almost felt like old times.

Ahsoka's attention snapped back to the vagabond at the bar when she finally placed what was so familiar about his walk. The way that hooded face canvased the room, the relaxed-but-completely-aware-of-his-surroundings stance as he stood talking to the bartender, the hand held casually at his belt, ready to draw; all pointed towards military training.

Soldier not partisan or rebel.

Ahsoka's instincts have never led her wrong, and as the man turns at the bartender's direction, begins to make his way over to her, she readies herself for a fight.

And then all at once he stops dead, in the middle of the cantina, hooded face staring at Ahsoka and Artoo. People flow around him as he stands unmoving, and Ahsoka can feel a flare of shock burn through the Force before it suddenly vanishes as though the man is…shielding.

Artoo starts beeping frantically, moving from side to side in his excitement, and the man starts towards them again, faster than before. She realizes that the light from the bar is perfectly showcasing her face but that his is still in shadow, a darker shadow perhaps denoting a beard.

Ahsoka only has time to register his grace, the way his movements all seem to flow like a dance, which she had last seen from…

…and then he was before her, a pale hand reaching out to gently touch Artoo's blue-domed head in greeting. And he was exactly the right height, and Artoo was whistling softly in return, and the man was reaching up, pushing back his hood to reveal the face of…

…Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"Hello there," his Coruscant-accented voice lilted over the background noise. His blue-grey eyes looked like they had seen far too much of sadness and grief lately, but the little smile lurking at the corner of his lips was all Master Obi-Wan, acknowledging the absurdity of words in a situation like this, including her in on the joke.

Ahsoka stared, eyes wide, drinking in the sight of him and unable to believe... how had she not known, not felt him? ...how was he here –

He was here. He was here. She inhaled sharply enough that it hurt.

His hands twitched, as though to reach out towards her, and suddenly Ahsoka was moving. Up off the curved bench, laughing and crying at the same time as she threw herself into Master Obi-Wan's arms and held on tight.

He caught her in his arms with a quiet 'oomph' for she was as tall as him now, and his arms went around her instantly, warm and safe. And now she could feel him in the Force again – warmth, comfort, family, Master – and she was still crying, she realized. His beard prickled against her skin and he smelled clean like soap, and salty like the desert and underneath that was the spicy scent of his favorite brand of tea.

He hadn't changed. He hadn't changed at all.

She was crying now, quietly, and she could feel Artoo's mechanical arm extending to poke her gently – in comfort, she supposed – in the leg. She was also fairly sure one tip of her montrals had almost just jabbed Master Obi-Wan in the eye. "Sorry," she muttered, letting go abruptly when she remembered how uncomfortable he always was at physical displays of affection. She had only ever seen him at ease with casual touching around Anakin – once or twice with Padmé – and Ahsoka had never actually hugged him before.

He didn't let her go far, keeping her hand in his as he reached out and placed his other hand gently on her tear-streaked face.

She knew they were making a bit of a scene, that several of the tables around them were watching their reunion out of the corner of their eyes, but she didn't really care. Master Obi-Wan's eyes were filled with tears and she had never seen him cry before. "I am…so happy you're safe, little one," he said, stumbling over the words in a way totally uncharacteristic of him, and telling Ahsoka more than anything else, how much he had feared her death.

She had always known that he loved her, had never needed the words from him like Anakin always seemed to…

She realized his hand was trembling in hers.

She took a deep breath, centered herself as well as she could, and tugged him over to her table. They sat down across from one another, Ahsoka refusing to relinquish his hand. It had been so long. She had thought him dead for years. The last she had known of him had been the message he had sent from the Temple. He had gone back to Coruscant after the Clones turned on them. She had always believed Master Obi-Wan to be invincible, so his survival against General Grievous and then his own entire Clone Battalion hadn't surprised her.

And of course, he had gone back to Coruscant. Anakin had been there. And the children had been there, the younglings. Master Obi-Wan would never have left them.

"And…Anakin?" she couldn't help but whisper, knowing already what the answer must be. She couldn't feel her Master in the Force and Master Obi-Wan's face, lined in grief, spoke plainly enough. The sharp, visceral flare of pain which flowed into the Force and was sharp enough to cause her to cry out was all the answer she needed.

"I'm so sorry," she said, tightening her hand in his, trying to offer what comfort she could and knowing it was far too little. Obi-Wan and Anakin had been closer than brothers, known each other more intimately than lovers, and bickered like an old married couple. They were two sides of the same coin; she had never thought the day would come when she would see one without the other.

"And I'm sorry as well, Ahsoka," Obi-Wan said, and what he had to be sorry for she couldn't even imagine. She knew he would have done all that he could. She shook her head stubbornly, held on tight enough that she was worried she might hurt him, but he didn't let out a single sound of protest.

Anakin Skywalker was gone. He was one with the Force now. She only hoped that one day, somewhere, somehow, beyond time, the Force would bring them back together again.

For now, she was just grateful Master Obi-Wan was still here with her.

After a minute or two, while Artoo swiveled his head between them both like a pendulum, the little droid beeped a question. Are you going to tell her?

Master Obi-Wan, surprisingly, laughed.

"Master?" Ahsoka asked, glancing between them both and vaguely wondering if Bail, Obi-Wan and Artoo were involved in a conspiracy against her.

"I suppose that's why Bail sent her," he murmured, speaking to the astromech and not Ahsoka. "Before he said anything." A hint of his old mischief, a spark in those weary eyes, lightened Ahsoka's heart. "Should we tell her?" Master Obi-Wan stage-whispered to Artoo. "Is she trustworthy enough?"

"Hey!" Ahsoka protested, pretending to be offended.

Master Obi-Wan's eyes twinkled at her and Artoo muttered something rude about humans. "Oh, alright, I suppose it's fine." He reached over and tugged Ahsoka's hood back over her montrals.

"Come, there's something I have to tell you, Ahsoka, and – more importantly – someone I want to introduce you to." As they went moved towards the exit, Obi-Wan using a subtle brush of the Force to cause those nearest them to become uninterested in their movements, Ahsoka slipped her arm through his, irrationally afraid that if she lost him, even for a moment, he would vanish from her sight like a mirage in a desert.

She was unsure at the moment whether she was dreaming, and if the dream was Master Obi-Wan returned to her, or if it was the past few years she spent running – alone and afraid – before Artoo and Bail led her back to him.

Master Obi-Wan led her out into the bright, afternoon sunlight. The hubbub of Mos Eisley swirled around her in a myriad of colors and smells, sounds and feelings in the Force.

"When I tell you that the situation I now find myself in is entirely Anakin's fault, I'm sure you won't be surprised," Master Obi-Wan was saying, voice almost entirely devoid of bitterness, and with almost the usual amount of fond exasperation in it for Anakin's antics that she was used to.

He shot her a teasing look. "It is definitely a Skywalker problem," he intoned dryly.

Behind them Artoo cackled.

"Oh dear," Ahsoka said, and she was very definitely smiling.

Notes: Next, Obi-Wan has only been on Tatooine for a month before his house is robbed. The thieves take the old wooden trunk where he'd placed Anakin's lightsaber and Ahsoka's Padawan beads. A Jedi shouldn't need attachments, but Obi-Wan knows he'll do almost anything to get back the only things he has from his family.