Dare Number 7

Do I dare to tell him that I love him?

"This blindfold is getting rather tedious, Kenobi," I muttered as I half-stumbled and barely caught myself.

Somehow – as usual – he heard me.

Obi-Wan laughed. "What, you don't trust me, Elaine? I won't let you fall."

"I just did."

"No, you tripped," he corrected steadily, his voice teasing and playful as it always was. "And I caught you before you actually fell. I can do nothing about your lack of coordination, even though I do wish I could."

"I am not clumsy – "

Just as I spoke, I tripped yet again – and found myself headed down for yet another face-to-face meeting with the ground.

His arms were around me in a flash, lifting me back on my feet, as fingers brushed at my cheek. I felt a little thrill pass through me at the touch. It had been a while since we had finally reconciled, and thankfully due to his injuries he had not been sent away from me, but sometimes I still was rather startled to wake up and remember that we had reconciled in the first place.

I was still waiting to wake up from my dream.

But Obi-Wan was so convincingly real sometimes that it wasn't even funny. Like right now, with his arms around me and his voice close enough that a whisper sounded more like a shout in my ear.

"What was that again about not being clumsy?" he murmured, barely restrained laughter ringing in his voice.

I pulled away, my face flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, stow it, Mr. I-am-always-right."

Once, he would have winced.

Once, he would have released me immediately.

Once, he might have gone on for hours and hours apologizing.

Now, he knew me well enough to know that none of the above options was entirely necessary – especially when I was the person in question.

Instead of wincing, he laughed again. Instead of releasing me, he held me closer. And instead of apologizing, he said with the barest trace of smugness, "I am always right, and I thank you for finally acknowledging it."

"You're insufferable."

He kissed my forehead. "And you are clumsy."

"You . . ." I sighed. "Why do I even bother arguing with you? You were given a medal in diplomacy, for stars' sake. . . I must have a tendency towards self-destructive behaviors."

"What?"

I poked him in the chest – or, at least, I thought it was the chest. It was hard to judge things with a blindfold making the whole world seem one monotone color. And Obi-Wan excelled at sneaking up on me through his silence and regulation of breathing; dodging a poke was probably easy as blinking to him.

"You are at fault there, and no bothering to deny it."

"May one ask how I fuel self-destructive behaviors?" he asked.

"You always beat me in arguments."

I felt him shrug. "I always told you to choose your battles wisely. Especially your opponent – and your field."

"So, in other words, argue with Ash instead?"

Obi-Wan laughed again, and I felt his embrace tighten as he drew me closer. "That's one way to do it. But have you ever actually won an argument with her?"

"Uh . . . hmm. I never thought about that," I lied.

"So maybe not Ash."

I sighed. "Whatever. Fine. Can we discuss this when I am less sleep-deprived?" I pleaded.

He stroked my hair. "As you wish," he conceded, his voice no longer teasing but instead the normal warm tone of caring as it always was. "Don't worry; it's only for a few more minutes and we'll be there."

"Be . . . where?"

"You'll find out," he answered mysteriously.

It was the same response I'd been told about five times now. And it was getting tedious too.

Obi-Wan suddenly dropped my hand. I stopped walking immediately, startled at his abrupt move, especially since he hadn't let go of my hand since he had put the blindfold on at my apartment. And I was kinda wary of walking into something else this time. Okay, more than kinda. But better safe than sorry.

"Wait here," he told me. "I'll only be a few minutes, okay?"

"Obi-Wan – "

"You'll be fine," he assured me. "I'll be right back."

"I'm not allowed to see yet, am I?"

His smile was clear in his voice as he kissed me and warned playfully, "I'll know if you cheat."

"Because I was so tempted."

A swish of cloth, and I knew he was gone. Where he was going, I had absolutely no idea. Obi-Wan was the master of self-control – especially when it came to keeping secrets. And extra especially when the secret was something he had told me was something special for just the two of us.

It was strange. We had had our reunion after a few weeks of being estranged, and yet everything seemed to running smoothly. When I looked at him, when I kissed him, when we ate together, I felt no awkwardness. I didn't even feel confusion. Just once glance at him was more than enough to banish that – I didn't want to even get to when he touched me or kissed me.

Ash had already picked up on that. She had cornered me when I had been getting ready because she had wanted to ask me something.

Well, she claimed it was innocent.

So she had hacked into my apartment, scared the living daylights out of me, pronounced my dress inadequate, and proceeded to rummage through my wardrobe until she had come out, triumphant, with a dress I hadn't worn since . . . well, years ago. Ash and I had picked it out years ago because she had claimed that I needed a dress we both found beautiful. Finally, we had settled on this one. It had a midnight black skirt with flowers with turquoise petals and gold outlines, and the top part was the same turquoise color with flowers of silk petals decorating the neckline.

Unfortunately, I had never worn it. Or perhaps fortunately, because it had what I considered a low neckline and because Ash had squealed up a storm of "It's so cute!" when we had bought it.

Yeah. Did not want to deal with that.

But she had insisted until I had gotten a headache, and so I had consented. And felt my stomach quivering with butterflies when Obi-Wan had seen me and done a double-take.

Then, after forcing me into wearing the gown, she had got to talking. I had banished most of the conservation from my mind because it had been just too embarrassing and filled with wheedling and pleading and demanding – but I did remember one very vivid, very personal, very unnerving question: "When are you going to tell him that you love him?"

I, being me, had said, "Never."

And she, being her, had gotten the evilest gleam of plotting in her eye and said, "I dare you to."

Blast her. Ash was excellent at manipulating me into corners where I had nowhere else to go. I wouldn't break a dare. But I also genuinely was scared of telling him.

Obi-Wan was a Jedi. I was just a third-year graduate from the Academy still studying for the Master levels. And he had already confessed that he really did not wish to marry or settle down; he had been taught otherwise for his entire life, and anyways, he wanted to devote his life to his duty – serving the Republic. To take that away from him would be to change the very core of who he was.

I couldn't do that.

Being a Jedi was literally his life. I couldn't ask him to choose me over it, because I know which he'd choose, and I couldn't stand the thought of such a painful rejection from him of all people.

So . . . that led to my dilemma.

I couldn't break a dare, because then Ash'd never let me live it down.

I also couldn't follow through with the dare, because then he'd feel that I wanted promises in return, and I would appear way too needy, and that would scare him off.

So, in effect, I was stuck.

And I couldn't tell him because that would bring up yet another round of issues I wasn't willing to face.

"Elaine?"

I jumped, startled as I was whenever his Jedi abilities lead him to accidentally sneak up on me. "If I get a heart attack, we know who's to blame," I said dryly.

Obi-Wan merely chuckled and took my hand again. "Come on; we have a ride to catch."

"What?"

He had to help me into the speeder, because obviously I couldn't see what I was doing. In other words, it provided plenty of opportunities for his skin to brush against mine and send my heart racing and spurring on another butterfly bonanza in my stomach. By the end of the whole encounter, I was thoroughly ready to hide my face in his cloak and never see daylight again.

After one seemed like an eternity, he parked the speeder.

I shivered. "Where are we?" It wasn't freezing cold – but my dress wasn't exactly meant for outside adventures either.

Obi-Wan slipped an arm around my waist, pulling his cloak around us both. "A lot of scientists and astronomers and . . . well, just normal people come here. Even the Jedi. There's supposed to be a shower tonight."

I pulled away in alarm. "You know I hate getting wet!"

"Not that type."

I frowned curiously. "Shower means rain, and rain means I get wet," I complained, "and when I get wet – "

"You get grumpy, I know." He caressed my cheek. "You still don't trust me do you?"

"This is an open cockpit speeder, Kenobi. It'll offer no protection against rain. And I will be soaked to the bone and you will be in a lot of trouble," I threatened, glaring in his general direction.

He laughed. "I don't see any clouds, Elaine."

"Yes, well, I don't trust you as no doubt you would have no problem with getting wet, but I hate getting wet and I can't see for myself. . ."

"Oh, yes. One second. . ."

And then, thankfully, he pulled the blindfold off.

I gasped.

We were in some sort of clearing with miles and miles of open sky around us. In distance, I could see the bright lights of Coruscant on even at this late hour, but here . . . here there were no lights, so the stars shone brightly, twinkling in shades of red and yellow and white. Everything seemed so untouched that I actually felt that the speeder, which could be found almost anywhere on Coruscant, was out of place for once.

"How did you – "

"The Jedi come here sometimes, for meditation, or to prepare for training exercises on places like this," he replied. "I pulled a few strings and got us a pass. . . Are you cold?"

"No." I frowned. "Why?"

He flashed me a charming smile. "You'll see in about, oh, five or six minutes."

I sighed as I leaned back against him. "Diplomacy? Check. Fighting? Check. Patience? Definitely check," I grumbled. "What aren't you better than me at?"

Obi-Wan laughed, wrapping both arms around me and resting his chin on my head. I curled against him and rested my head on his shoulder. It was comforting, to be held so intimately like that, as if things would always stay this way and never change, that we would still be like this ten, twenty, thirty years from now, still together, still . . .

Still in love.

I fought back a groan and instead pressed my face closer to Obi-Wan's shoulder to avoid the blush I knew was coming.

Here was yet another reason not to tell Obi-Wan. After all, yes, I could admit I loved him, but . . .

That didn't mean he loved me back.

In fact, it almost 100% guaranteed that he didn't love me back.

I didn't know Obi-Wan as well as he knew me. But I did know how he viewed emotions. He talked about them as though they were . . . well, primal and therefore that they ought to be carefully examined and controlled. I could understand why he didn't want emotions getting in the way of justice, for feelings didn't always point towards the right way in justice – but to do away with them entirely? To bury them deep, deep down? To acknowledge them and then throw them away in the name of duty?

Not quite the healthiest thing, I thought.

More like it made Obi-Wan a ticking time bomb of suppressed, bottled up emotions.

If we were meant not to have emotions, we'd be droids. That was my stance.

Especially as I knew that his suppression of emotion wasn't just because of duty or justice – it was because that was how he had been raised and taught and essentially indoctrinated. The Jedi Code forbade emotions simply because they feared that even a tiny taste or slip-up lead to the dark side.

Clearly, the Jedi had some issues about running away. Running away from emotions, locking them up, forbidding them – that didn't do anything.

After all, it usually was the flair of the forbidden that beckoned so attractively to many people.

Including, I knew, many of the women who had tried to get to Obi-Wan and only managed to annoy him in the process.

Obi-Wan shifted. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

I shook my head quickly. "No," I lied as smoothly as I could, "it's nothing."

He turned, a frown forming on his face. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to figure out the reason for whatever he was picking up from me without pushing me too hard. "What I'm sensing from you cannot be merely 'nothing', Elaine; in fact – "

A flash of light sparked at the edge of my vision – strong, powerful, and eerily bright.

I whirled towards it, glad for something – anything – that would give me an excuse to ignore his words. I didn't want to explain what was going on now. Yes, I was honor-bound to fulfill the dare, and I would eventually – but not now. I wanted to savor the quiet before the storm for as long as I possibly could.

Besides, Ash hadn't given me a time limit.

The flash streaked across the sky, almost quick enough that had I blinked I would have missed it. It was unnaturally bright, its heart a burning furnace red and its trailing tail a powerful orange-yellow.

"A meteor," I said.

Another asteroid joined the first, and then another, and then another, until it seemed like it was raining stars.

Obi-Wan said, "Yes. One of the largest of the year, actually, which is really the only reason we can see it. Coruscant's light pollution is very strong; even out here, the light is not as powerful and strong as it could be on a world like, say, Alderaan or Naboo, where the lights do not shine so long and brightly into the night. The peak time of the storm is approaching soon, too; you should see more and more as the hour progresses. Asteroids burn up as they – "

"Hush," I interrupted. "Give me the science lesson later."

He laughed and pulled me back against him. "I'll hold you to that."

I ignored him.

The meteor show was fascinating. I had never seen one; I had only heard of them, here and there, during my lessons. I never had liked science classes.

But these asteroids, shining with reds and yellows and blues, were almost enough to make me regret I hadn't become an astrophysicist, as I'd wanted to once when I had been younger. Or at least something in that field.

Finally, when we were seeing five to six meteors a minute, something changed.

Suddenly, ribbons of orange and green and purple were swaying across the sky, sometimes mixing together in a giant, unnamed, fantastical creature, other times separating with a burst of flaring colors like a firework display. And with that delicate, shifting, dancing background, the meteors streaking across the sky seemed to complete a display as ancient as the universe yet at once still as beautiful as the first time it had ever happened.

"What is that?" I demanded, forgetting that I had been the one who had insisted on silence.

I heard the smile in his voice as he answered, "It's called aurora borealis."

"What?"

"Aurora borealis," he repeated slowly, emphasizing each syllable as though I was a child, "otherwise known as the northern lights. Sometimes, in myths, it is known as the shifting winds that signal a new dawn to come."

I tore my eyes away from the color show in the sky to stare at him. But he resolutely studied the sky, not even glancing at me.

Does he know?

How can he know?

Did Obi-Wan sense that I held within me a revelation that could shift our relationship towards a new phase entirely?

I couldn't tell. He was too hard for me to read. I loved him, but I didn't know him very well.

Not ten minutes later, Obi-Wan leaned forward and started the speeder. "The peak's over," he announced. "Not many more meteors tonight. And the aurora borealis will end too; the flare that caused wasn't very big, if my memory serves me correctly."

I leaned back in my seat. "Did you know ahead of time?"

He shrugged. "I guessed. I did some calculations. But I wasn't totally sure, if that's what you're asking."

"What are the – "

"Chances of this happening?" he completed, sending me a sideways glance I couldn't quite interpret. "Perhaps one a million. Or maybe even less. It's very rare; no doubt it will be all over the Academy labs by tomorrow."

One a million. You mean, like us being together?

I didn't say that, though. Instead, I said, very quietly, "Thank you. For showing me."

"I thought you should see. Jedi often come here, for meditation or to prepare for training exercises, or even just to get out of the Temple." He paused, and his voice become softer. "I came here a lot too, with . . . with my Master. It was where I first saw a meteor show, many years ago."

Master? Mentally, I ran through my very limited file on the Jedi Order. Oh. Jedi Master.

As in "father figure".

"Thank you," I repeatedly softly.

He merely nodded.

But I knew what a big gesture it was, all the same. I had heard, vaguely, about the death of a Jedi Master on Naboo, and I had known that Obi-Wan was connected. And I had seen the power of the connection between Obi-Wan and Jedi Skywalker – almost like brothers. No doubt a father-son relationship would be even stronger. And for him to actually make the step to share something so personal with me. . .

Wow. Definitely one a gazillion, then.

My stomach rumbled suddenly. I bit my lip and tried to keep my gaze cool.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you eat dinner?"

"Yes."

"No," he sighed. "You didn't. You worked late tonight, didn't you? And you have the early shift tomorrow."

"I'll be fine."

"You aren't going to get enough sleep either." His tone was disapproving. "At this rate, I should escort you to your bed myself and give you a sleep-suggestion to make sure you sleep."

"I get more than enough sleep."

"Hmm. Then explain the circles under your eyes."

"You have them too!"

"Yes, but I can go without sleep longer than you. The Force – "

" – is something I don't have. And besides, I can catch up on the weekends."

"That isn't healthy."

"Neither is running on protein cubes, bacta, and the Force."

"I'm used to it."

"And I'm used to long hours."

"Obviously not, or you'd have learned to pack ration bars and snooze in between shifts. Which you aren't."

"I have responsibilities! My patients – "

"Are not here."

I crossed my arms grumpily. "Why do I even bother arguing with you? Sheesh. You probably have a medal somewhere about your diplomatic abilities."

Obi-Wan didn't look at me, but I saw how his lips tightened as he tried not to laugh. He parked the speeder and vaulted over the door with practiced ease before opening my side and extending a polite helping hand.

"Here we are," he said.

I unlocked the apartment and rolled my eyes when he headed straight for the kitchen.

"Stars above, you barely have any food in here." Obi-Wan's voice was muffled and even more disapproving.

"I live alone. Who else is eating?"

"This isn't a joke."

"Yes, because I'm feeding a homeless addict with the rest of my paycheck," I said sarcastically, digging through my purse. "Obi-Wan, seriously, I don't eat that much. There's no point in buying a pantry's worth of food. . . Did you see my passcard?"

"No. Why?"

"It's not here. I think I left it in the speeder."

Obi-Wan sounded vaguely amused when he asked, "If it was in your purse, how did you do that?"

I gave my purse a vicious shake. Nothing. Scowling, I snapped my purse shut. "Be quiet, Mr. Obsessively-Neat. We can't all be perfect." I headed for the door, mentally running through a back-up list of other locations it could be. "I'm going outside to look."

"Happy hunting!" he called.

I scouted around the floor, but it revealed nothing. And nothing in the seat.

But when I poked my head to look under the chair, I hit my head on something that made a compartment pop open and bang me on the head.

"Ow!"

I jerked back upright, glaring at the offending compartment.

Then my ire faded instantly when a roll of gauze meandered slowly out, followed by a stack of bacta patches, an emergency kit, collapsible glow rod, ration bars, and what looked like a week's worth of protein cubes.

I shoved everything in haphazardly; Obi-Wan could rearrange everything at his leisure. Which he would anyways, once he opened it again and realized it had been tampered with. Only the gauze resisted my attempts, so I sighed, picked it up, and started to rewind it so that it would at least fit back in the compartment and I could go back inside.

And then I realized that the gauze hadn't been used.

Obi-Wan was supposed to change the bandages every twelve hours, I remembered. We had given him the supplies because Bant had told us of his aversion to the Temple healers and his tendency to try and treat his injuries by himself no matter how life-threatening they were.

My passcard completely forgotten, I slammed the compartment shut, closed the speeder door, and stormed back into the apartment.

Obi-Wan wasn't in the entry hall. Or the kitchen. Or the pantry. Or even the bathroom.

"Obi-Wan?"

"Over here," I heard him say.

I poked my head in the living room open to find him standing by the mantel holding a holopicture. I stopped in tracks when I realized what the picture was. It was normal, by most terms: just me and Ryan, dancing with laughter on both of our faces. It had been the last time I had seen him before we had graduated and lost contact with each other.

There was something in Obi-Wan's face when he looked at it. Something strange. . .

"Who is he?"

"Ryan," I answered. "He was one of my classmates at the Academy. That was at one of the formal dances I was forced to attend. We both didn't really want to go, but we had to, so we thought why not just spare each other the embarrassment and go together. . ."

I then realized how thoroughly off track I'd gotten.

I put one hand on my hip and brandished the other with the roll of gauze, making my fury known in my eyes.

Obi-Wan blinked. Then he slowly set the picture down. A half-smile crept across his face as he faced me and crossed his arms. A curtain of impassiveness slid over his face.

"You haven't been changing it?"

He hesitated. "I have had no need to," he replied.

"Stars above, do you want to get an infection?" I demanded, marching threateningly over to him.

"I'm not – "

"Oh, never mind," I interrupted. "Gods know that you haven't gone to the healers to get it checked either, have you? Sit down, now, and take your shirt off so at least I can check what exactly the Jedi have to focus on when they are doing an autopsy on your dead body because someone got an infection and didn't change the bandage."

Obi-Wan flashed a dry smile at me. "Bossy as ever," he said, his voice muffled by his tunic as he shrugged it off and dropped it next to his cloak.

"Stow it."

But when he finally removed his under tunic, I could only blink in surprise.

There was nothing there.

No week-old bandage, no dried blood, no mottled bruises. His skin was as clean and unblemished as though he'd never been wounded in his entire life and certainly not as seriously as I knew he had been.

I dropped to my knees to study it closer – but no, nothing. Just the faintest of pale pink scars to mark the wound.

I lifted my head. "What – How – " I stammered.

He leaned forward and gently lifted me to sit beside him on the couch, his blue-green eyes dancing with suppressed amusement. He carefully pried away the roll of gauze and bacta patches from my numb hands, because I could do nothing other than stare at his chest in amazement, because the wound had, quite simply, vanished completely.

Finally, I asked, "How did you do that?"

Obi-Wan smirked, leaning back casually. "Even Jedi who aren't healers learn basic techniques, like healing trances," he said matter-of-factly. "I've gotten rather good at them because . . . well . . . I think you know."

"And it can do . . . that?"

"And more." He smiled. "But it's usually a one in a million chance that it actually works."

One in a million chances. But somehow, for some reason, it worked. My breath caught as I remembered how wounded, how sick, how close to death Obi-Wan had been. If I didn't believe in miracles before, now I do. . .

"That's amazing," I breathed. "It's like . . . Wow. I could almost believe you came back from the dead with that."

Something changed in his eyes, like he was wincing internally. Pain suddenly replaced amusement, as if he was remembering something, like I had brought up some really bad memories with my words. Something was seriously wrong, but I couldn't figure out what. . .

"I'm sorry, did I say – "

He held up a hand. "It is nothing," he said firmly.

I nodded sheepishly. Way to go, Elaine. One date in and you're already offending the man. Brilliant.

"Elaine?"

I looked up. "Hmm?"

Obi-Wan had that same pensive, uneasy, troubled look on his face, as if he was bracing himself for something very unpleasant but was going to do it anyways in typical self-sacrificing mode.

"Do you . . . Did you . . . I mean . . . How is your relationship with . . . with Ryan?"

I blinked at him. What? "Um . . . okay?" I offered weakly. At the expression on his face, I continued, "Honestly, Obi-Wan, I've barely seen him since I graduated. We sort of . . . lost contact with each other. It wasn't anything to really get worked up about; he had his life and I had mine."

He looked at me.

I sighed.

"Okay, fine, we did reestablish," I admitted.

His eyes darkened, but his tone remained unchanged. I could see the tension in his hands, placed so delicately on his knees, as if he was one step away from clenching them into fists in frustration or sorrow or something.

"And do you wish to stay with him?"

"Well . . . yeah . . . I mean . . . He was my friend. I can still be friends with him."

His eyes cleared. "Friends?"

And then I got it.

I crossed my arms and glared at him again. "You thought I was going to dump you for him?" I exclaimed, needing to say it to believe it.

Obi-Wan bit his lip – which was as good as a dead giveaway.

"I'm not quite . . . the best choice . . . for you," he said, his voice carefully controlled. "You'd have a better chance with someone . . . well, closer to your own age. Someone you know very well. Someone you already know you get along with. Someone who doesn't have to . . . doesn't have to lie to you. He would be a better choice."

"Not in a million chances!"

He sighed and relaxed against the couch. "Then I guess I am very lucky." He paused. "Or hallucinating."

I hit his shoulder.

"What – " he stuttered, recoiling in surprise.

"You're not hallucinating," I pointed out cheerfully. "Not if you can feel that."

He rolled his eyes. "You are insufferable too, Elaine." But a hint of a smile tugged at his lips as he spoke, and the sting was far less than anything he could have ever said. It was even further reduced when he held his arms out and pulled me close to him.

I snuggled close, strangely tired yet content.

Then I remembered.

One in a million chances. I glanced down at his chest, where the scar still was. And where about three hundred other ones were, from all sorts of dangers on missions. How many had he seen die? Saved from death? How many times had he faced death right in the eye and only barely escaped with his life? How many times?

I guess there's no better time to tell him than now.

After all, he might not come back next time.

"Um, Obi-Wan?"

His fingers stilled in my hair, warm and gentle and inquisitive all at once. "Yes?" he murmured, his tone clear that he wasn't really paying attention.

"I think . . . I think . . ."

Oh, just say it already! Ash's voice in my head said, the words like a sharp jab to the ribs.

Fine! I snapped.

"Obi-WanIthinkIloveyou," I said very, very quickly.

He laughed, still at ease, still unconcerned, still teasing. It was obvious that he hadn't understood what I had said, even though I knew that I could feel the inquisitive tension in his hand, resting so lightly against my neck. He sensed something was off; he just didn't know what and wasn't exactly very concerned yet.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I was not looking at him when I fulfilled this dare. Not if I wanted to escape with at least a few shreds of my dignity and self-respect and confidence intact.

Assuming he didn't laugh me off and break up with me, of course.

"Obi-Wan, I think I love you."

I waited for the blow to come. Or the laugh. Or the disbelief. They would all be blows to me anyways.

But nothing.

No sound, no movement, no . . . anything.

It was like he was frozen, either unable or unwilling to comprehend what I had just said. I hoped for unable. I knew it was unwilling. And the shard of ice lodged in my heart started to expand just a little bit. . .

"You . . . what?"

He sounded breathless, dazed, confused – none of which spoke well to the situation I now found myself in.

I swallowed hard. "I said I think I love you," I whispered in the quietest tone of voice possible.

Another beat of silence.

Then Obi-Wan's hand vanished from the back of my neck, and suddenly he was pushing me away and his hand found my chin and tilted it up.

Startled, my eyes flashed open instinctively.

And locked with his.

Now, instead of wanting to look away, I found I couldn't. His blue-green eyes stared squarely into my own, and I could not escape them no matter how much I wished to, because he would not let me. He was a Jedi, and he knew how to use the Force. He was also a general, used to demanding truth and finding it one way or another – and now I was feeling just how much power he could bring to bear.

"Elaine," he murmured finally, "are you . . . Are you certain?"

Caught in the power of his gaze, demanding truth, I gave it to him. "Yes." My voice was so soft perhaps only a very powerful, very sensitive sensor would have picked up on it – but he did hear it. Somehow.

Because then he suddenly pulled me to him and kissed me as though it was the last time he would ever see me alive.

And then he was laughing, and holding me close, and murmuring, "I think I love you too."

I yanked myself away and started frantically pacing. I had to be dreaming. It couldn't be that easy – there was no way it could be that easy. He was Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi Master, the Negotiator, the famous Clone Wars General. I had to be dreaming.

"You need to pinch me," I told him. "Really, really hard."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "Why in the name of the Force would I do that?" he asked, rising and stopping my frantic whirling.

"Because I am dreaming, or hallucinating, or . . . or something, and I need to snap out of it before I do something I regret, and I'm not such which will be worse."

"Worse?"

I nodded sheepishly. "Leaving the dream or staying it in and knowing it's a dream," I explained.

He sighed. "You are not dreaming, Elaine. And I am not going to pinch you."

"Why not?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Then trust me when I say you are not dreaming.

He kissed me again, and I knew that he was right. I was trying, once again, to justify something that didn't need to be justified. I had told him that I loved him. I had fulfilled the dare. And he, amazingly and unbelievably and totally unforeseeably, had accepted it – and then said that he loved me in return.

I suddenly became hyper aware of the fact that Obi-Wan still didn't have his shirt on. And that actually I rather preferred him without it. And that there were some rather naughty thoughts running in my head with my hands pressed against the solid warmth of his chest. . .

He broke the kiss, and gazed at me with wavering resolve.

"Are you completely certain?" he asked. "I cannot give you anything – I cannot even promise you anything. I will not force you. If you need time . . ."

"I won't. I trust you."

"Are you sure about your decision? Completely, absolutely, 100% sure? I don't want you to get yourself into something you don't want only to find that out later."

"Would you just shut it and kiss me? I already said that you're not leaving tonight."

He laughed, drawing me closer. "Well, that I can promise."

"Good."

I buried my face in his chest, breathing in his warm scent and relishing the feeling of security from his embrace and the affection I could see in his blue-green eyes. Maybe I was hallucinating, or dreaming, or something. But right now, I didn't really care. Right now, I had his love and he had mine – and that was good enough for me.

At least for tonight.

Hopefully, for many years to come.