"Here," Sabé said, handing Obi-Wan a cup of hot chocolate and placing her own on the coffee table, sinking down to sit next to him on the thick rug. Darkness had fallen fully now, and stars twinkled in the sky visible through the open curtains at the window, the storm having finally moved on to leave a calm, clear night. After they had stumbled inside the apartment, both soaked to the skin, Obi-Wan had pulled her gently to him and kissed her again, soft and slow, and once she had regained her breath she had managed to apologise properly for what had happened on the porch. "It's been a long time," she'd said, relishing the sensation of his arms around her waist, "since I remember feeling like this with anyone. I was starting to wonder whether the connection I thought I was feeling with you might actually be a figment of my imagination."

"Well you were wrong," he had countered quietly, kissing her temple. "Why do you think I agreed, so readily, to go on a date with Padmé in the first place?"

She'd looked up at him in confusion.

"Because you asked me to," he had continued, stroking her face. "And even though I barely knew you then I obviously wasn't capable of refusing you anything."

That had been a shock. "I didn't realise…"

"I know," he'd said, kissing her lightly on the lips.

And now, half an hour later, they were sat together on the hearth rug, sipping hot chocolate and eating her clumsily-prepared sandwiches. Sabé wrapped her hands in the arms of the thin sweater into which she had changed, along with loose-fitting pants, after dashing into her bedroom and stripped off her soaking dress. Obi-Wan, with no clothes to change into, had just stripped off his outer tunic and hung it up to dry in her bathroom. She had lit a fire in the living room and then prepared their food in the kitchen area, paying far more attention to Obi-Wan than what she was supposed to be doing, not able to resist watching him sat there, in front of the fire, drying slowly, clothed in only his thin, short-sleeved inner tunic and light beige leggings. Now, as she lifted the scalding mug to her lips and automatically sneaked another glance at him, she realised she probably didn't need to steal glances any more and settled instead to gaze openly, noticing, at this proximity, the sprinkle of chest hair visible at the vee below his neck, his half-dry hair, glinting gold in the firelight, his skin healthily flushed from the day's sequence of sun, rain, and finally the abrupt heat of the open fire.

Obi-Wan looked up and noticing her appraisal of him, smiled, laying the arm nearest her on the sofa behind her back. "I noticed the guitar," he said, indicating behind her with his free hand. "Do you play?"

"What-?" She turned her head, spotting the instrument propped up against a bookcase. "Oh that. Yes, a little, and sing too… at least I used to."

"Why did you stop?"

She shrugged. "Lost the passion for it, I suppose…"

"That's a shame."

"I used to write songs too."

"Oh really?" He smiled, seeming to be pleased at the idea.

"Yes… all sorts of silly rubbish, but eventually it just seemed like a waste of time, so I stopped."

"Will you sing one for me now?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "Oh no, I couldn't possibly… I've never performed anything I've written… I never even dared sing in front of anyone other than my family."

"Well, actually, that's not true," he said with a mischievous look. "I've already heard you singing once before today."

She looked at him in confusion for a moment before she realised what he me meant. "Oh, you didn't, did you? Gods, that was so embarrassing," she said, blushing. "I can't quite believe it was only this morning that you were looking at me with such disapproval that I was willing myself to sink through the floor."

He frowned, shifting uncomfortably. "I didn't really make you feel like that, did I? I didn't mean-"

"I suppose I was so distracted by your appearance, I could have been mistaken…"

"Ah, but just in case, here is the perfect chance for me to make it up to you. Go on, sing for me. Please."

She shifting, trying to avoid his eyes. "I don't know… I used to put my heart and soul into my stupid little songs, and they don't quite fit with the grown-up sophisticated women trying my hardest to be…"

"Maybe you should just try being content to be yourself," he said quietly.

She looked up at him with a small smile. "All right then." She kissed his nose, before turning to reach over and grab the guitar. "But you'd better promise not to laugh."

"I promise," he said, putting on a mock-studious expression.

She laughed. "Hmm… let me see…" she said, strumming the guitar and tuning it quickly. "Okay, this one is kind of about the building across the street. Did you notice it earlier? The building with the iron railings outside?"

He shook his head, a little bemused. "A song about a building?"

"No, well, it's a school, and every afternoon in the summer the street is full of the flirtatious chatter of young love, and, sweet as it is, it can get nauseating, especially if you are already starting to feel far too old and far too single."

His lips tweaked in amusement.

She stopped strumming. "See, I told you it was stupid…"

"No no, I want to hear it. Please go on."

She looked at him intently for a moment. "The lyrics are rather silly too, but that's sort of intentional, so you can laugh a little, just not too much…"

He rolled his eyes. "Just sing, woman, you're making me nervous!"

She laughed, and started strumming again. "Okay." And then, in a quiet and slightly uncertain voice, not meeting his eyes, she began to sing.

Pale, pubescent beasts, roam through the streets,and coffee-shops,

Their prey gather in herds in stiff knee-length skirts and white ankle-socks,

But while they search for a mate, my type hibernate,

In bedrooms above.

Composing their songs of love.

She braved a glance at him, and, noticing his genuine smile of amusement and appreciation, her voice grew more confident as she sang the next verse.

Young, uniform minds in uniform lines,

And uniform ties,

Run round with trousers on fire and signs of desire they cannot disguise,

While I try to find words, as light as the birds,

That circle above,

To put in my songs of love.

Fate doesn't hang on a wrong or right choice,

Fortune depends on the tone of your voice,

So sing while you have time,

Let the song shine down from above,

And fill you with songs of love.

As she stopped singing to play the melody of the middle section, she noticed Obi-Wan had settled back, both arms spread on the sofa, and that he was now watching her with that special, intense look that would have been distracting, had she not been so absorbed in the music by that time that his enjoyment was merely a companion to her own.

Fate doesn't hang on a wrong or right choice,

Fortune depends on the tone of your voice,

So let's sing while we still can,

While the song hangs high up above,

Wonderful songs of love,

Beautiful songs of love.

She laughed as she strummed the ending, finishing with an exaggerated flourish of her hand. "See, told, you it was silly," she said immediately, not looking at him at she replaced the guitar. She turned back to face him.

"What am I going to do with you," he said, shaking his head.

"Why, what's wrong with me?" She asked, teasingly.

"Absolutely nothing at all," he replied, giving her that gentle smile she suddenly realised she might not be able to live without.

She scooted herself back over to where he was sitting, trying not to blush, aware of how her confidence was booming in response to his thinly-disguised complement, realising that she'd not touched him in, oh, at least five minutes, and that was already too long…

"Just promise me you won't give up on the music for good," he said quietly, as she reached out and took his hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. "Seriously, I mean it, it was a beautiful song."

"Okay," she said simply, bravely following her instinct and continuing to move closer to him, lifting her knees and positioning herself across his lap, straddling his thighs, sinking down so her body was pressed against him as she slid her fingers through the soft hair at the back of his head and brought her lips to his.

This kiss, their third kiss, quickly became as heated as the fire that danced behind Sabé's back, and when Obi-Wan's tongue slid across her lower lip, tentatively, for the first time, and his fingers simultaneously found the exposed strip of skin where her sweater had ridden up, she found herself opening her mouth instinctively and inviting him in, her body melting against his, lips and tongues quickly moving to taste one another hungrily, her hips instinctively rocking against his. It was blissful, and intoxicating, and she lost all sense of time or place, aware of nothing but the feel and taste of him, the sounds of his small moans mixing with her own, and the overwhelming power of her body's need and the growing hardness under her that indicated his.

She was eventually brought back to reality by the insistent pressure of his hands on her hips, slowing her rhythm, eventually holding her, gently, but firmly, so she could barely move against him. She pulled reluctantly away from his mouth, her body still trying to seek out the rhythm that seemed to have become as essential as her heartbeat.

"Keep still," he murmured, between clenched teeth, his fingers gripping her almost painfully.

"What's the matter?" She asked breathlessly, her lips still tingling.

"Nothing," he said, groaning, his eyes dark in the flickering firelight. "I- I'm just concerned… that if you continue I might not be able to stop."

"What makes you think I want you to?" She said huskily, leaning down and sliding her lips against his.

He chuckled, before groaning again as her soft lips trailed across his cheek to trace the stubble of his jawline.

"You are a divine temptation," he said in a low voice that made her tingle again, turning his head to kiss her temple as he lifted her gently but insistently off his lap. "But if this is going to happen tonight, I want you to be absolutely sure you want it, and that you won't regret it. Only twelve hours ago we barely knew each other, remember. "

"But I d-"

"Shh," he said, placing a finger on her lips. "We have all night. So no rushing. Okay?"

She lolled against the cushions by his side, looking up at him hazily. "You're quite a man, Obi-Wan Kenobi. And something of a tease, I'm beginning to suspect."

He grinned. "Come on," he said, getting to his feet and helping her up onto the sofa. "Let's watch a movie."

A/N: Sabé's song is actually Songs of Love by The Divine Comedy. And I've posted links to a couple of graphics for this story on my profile page, might help visual Obi-Wan without the beard :)