CHAPTER 28

Two weeks later:

Kila lifted her hand to Qui-Gon's face and brought it down so that their lips met. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said.

"Indeed," Qui-Gon replied softly, stroking his large hand down her cheek. He sighed and stepped back. "Anyway, I should get going – see what kind of havoc our son has managed to wreak in my absence."

Kila grinned at that. Han was a good lad and meant well, but he was entering the gangly clumsy phase that seemed to characterize adolescence in human males – all arms and legs and big feet. Not a day went by where he didn't trip over, bump into or knock down something or other. "All right – good idea," she acknowledged. She ushered him away with a swat to the rear. "Go," she ordered.

"Yes, Milady," Qui-Gon said mournfully, bowed deeply then backed away from Kila, bowing and scraping the entire time until he was out of sight.

Kila giggled. "What a fool," she mumbled then pressed the chime.

Padmé opened the door and took Kila's bags from her, passing them to her long-suffering husband before giving Kila a hug. "Nervous?" she asked, drawing Kila into the living room.

Obi-Wan disappeared with Kila's bags as Kila pondered the question. "No," she finally decided. "My wedding's going to be quite a bit quieter than yours – I'm no media darling."

"But still … it's a big change," Padmé said, catching her husband's hand as he went past and giving it a squeeze.

Obi-Wan sat down next to Padmé. "As long as you're happy, Kila – that's all that matters," he said. "In some ways you're like a little sister to me; I want your happiness."

"I'm happy," Kila assured her friends easily. "We love each other very much and I can't wait for us to become husband and wife."

It was true, too. Over the last couple of weeks, she and Qui-Gon had gotten physically much closer. Kila shivered slightly, recalling soft lips, scratchy whiskers and sure knowing hands on her breasts and nipples. All had worked together to arouse in her sensations she had never felt before. Yet something had made her cringe away when he'd tried to explore her center, and he'd stopped immediately.

"Kila!"

Kila blinked back to her surroundings to see Padmé waving madly at her. "Sorry – mind wandered," she apologized with a blush.

"Mmm," Padmé agreed with raised eyebrows. She nudged Kila. "One will get you ten you were thinking about Qui-Gon," she teased.

"Well, I am marrying the man tomorrow," Kila said mildly, immensely pleased when she didn't blush. "It would be a bit strange if I wasn't thinking of him."

Obi-Wan chuckled lightly. "I never thought I'd see my practical quiet little Kila almost giddy over some male," he offered.

Kila drooped her eyelid in a lazy wink at Padmé then replied; "Well, the things that particular male can do … I wouldn't be right in the head if he didn't make me at least a little giddy."

Obi-Wan blanched slightly. "A little too much information there," he said calmly then belied that calm by getting up and leaving the living area as if an entire tribe of Tusken Raiders was chasing him.

"Evil," Padmé accused, pointing her finger at Kila and then laughing.

"He's one of my best friends – if I can't torture him then why keep him around?" Kila retorted with her own laugh.

"That's why I keep him around – I'll admit that," Padmé opined. She turned Kila to face her. "Are you losing weight?" she added a propos of nothing.

Kila nodded her head. "A little," she said, patting the lately diminished rise of her tummy. She chuckled suddenly. "Unfortunately I never seem to lose anything up here" – she indicated her generous breasts – "but Qui-Gon would be broken-hearted if these shrank." She rolled her eyes. "Sometimes he's such a … a male."

"They're a strange species," Padmé agreed, "but life wouldn't be half so interesting without them."

"I meant to thank you, by the way, for letting me stay over tonight." Kila changed the subject. "Qui-Gon thinks I've lost my mind but I feel better for following some of my people's traditions."

"Oh, you're quite welcome," Padmé said, leaning over and pouring three steaming cups of kevas. "Obi?" she called with a grin. "It's safe to come out now."

Obi-Wan appeared almost immediately from wherever he'd been, looking affronted. "I wasn't hiding," he said.

"Of course you weren't," Padmé laughed. "Kevas?"

"Yes, please," Obi-Wan replied. "And I wasn't hiding – I just …" Then he sighed. "All right," he acquiesced. "I was hiding. Qui-Gon is like my father and you're like my sister …"

They all made a face as the twisted relationship permeated their minds. Obi-Wan gave a little wriggle then continued gamely on. "You know what I mean."

"Yes," Kila said, taking pity on the man who wore a blush she seldom saw. She actually felt a little sorry for him. "I'm sorry I embarrassed you," she added, putting her arm around him in a friendly hug.

"At least I finally understand why Qui-Gon calls you a brat so frequently," Obi-Wan offered with an impish grin.

"Brat. Old man. They've actually become terms of endearment," Kila said, bemused.

Obi-Wan chuckled and sipped his kevas. "I've known Qui-Gon a long time," he said. "I did worry at one point that he was genuinely starting to think of himself as an old man, but then …"

"Then?" Kila queried with raised brows when he didn't finish the sentence.

"Then he met you," Obi-Wan stated. "You're so good for each other."

"You weren't trying to match-make that day you brought him into Dex's, were you?" Kila inquired suspiciously.

Obi-Wan smiled slightly and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm afraid so," he replied mildly. "Padmé would call me a soppy romantic, but I always thought you and he would suit each other so well. However, I knew you weren't ready for a long time."

"Oh." Kila sipped her steaming kevas. "Well … all right," she accepted. "I can't say I like the idea but I know you meant well. And you're right too – I wasn't ready when I was younger."

"I know," Obi-Wan replied. "I'm just glad it worked out. You're such a strong, passionate pair – it could have been a disaster, yet I've never seen you happier."

"I hadn't realized I was so easy to read," Kila said with interest. So much for her early efforts to remain unnoticed!

"Sorry, but you are," Padmé put in, leaning into Obi-Wan and putting her feet on a handy ottoman. "And I don't have any Jedi abilities."

"No, but you're a politician," Obi-Wan pointed out. "You wouldn't get very far in the Senate if you couldn't read people to a degree."

"I'm impressed," Padmé offered.

"At my brilliant insight?"

"At the fact that you managed to use the word politician without gagging," Padmé shot back.

Kila spluttered on her kevas at that barb – having known Obi-Wan for over three years now, she was very familiar with his views on politicians. "Oh, khest – sorry!" she exclaimed, grabbing a napkin and dabbing hastily at her chin and nose.

Obi-Wan's mouth twitched and his eyes crinkled. "You slay me," he said dryly, patting his wife's knee and then taking a larger mouthful of his kevas. He then got to his feet and extended a hand to Kila. "Let me show you where you'll be sleeping tonight."

Kila took his hand and bobbed a small curtsy. "Thank you, good sir," she said then followed him along a small passageway.

Obi-Wan indicated an open door to Kila's right. "It's small but nice and restful," he said as Kila took in the soft furnishings in gentle colors. "And the sun rises on this side of the building. I know you like to watch the sunrise."

"Thank you." Kila surprised herself and Obi-Wan by giving him another quick hug. Theirs was a close friendship but neither was prone to be physically demonstrative with the other. Obi-Wan was rather reserved and Kila until recently had been a little nervous of men courtesy of her beatings from Gardulla's henchmen.

Obi-Wan returned the hug then stepped backward. "That door to the right of the bed leads to the fresher – sonics and water." His eyes twinkled. "You're a desert rat – I know how much you love your water showers."

"Mmm," Kila agreed, peeking into the fresher and noting the deep bathtub. She gave a little skip of glee. "You may need a crowbar to get me out of there," she said. Hot baths were a luxury – both on water-poor Tatooine and here on Coruscant where much of the planet's water was generated by the weather net.

"Indeed. Well, if you linger too long I'll send Padmé in after you – I certainly don't want to see you nude."

Kila was in an especially evil mood tonight and her usual targets were miles away. She folded her arms over her chest and speared the unsuspecting Jedi with a narrow stare. "And what's wrong with me that seeing me nude would be such a horrific experience?" she inquired.

"There's nothing wrong with you," Obi-Wan blurted out. "But there are boundaries I'd never cross with a friend – even as good a friend as you are …" Then he sighed and shook his head. "I must be losing my touch," he said. "I used to be able to tell when you were tormenting me merely for the fun of it."

Kila giggled and began unpacking one of her bags. "I'm sure Padmé does an admirable job in my stead," she offered lightly.

"Obi-torture – it's a sport I enjoy very much," Padmé said, coming into the bedroom and slipping an arm around her husband's waist.

Obi-Wan tugged at some of Padmé's hair. "I must not beat my pregnant wife. I must not beat my pregnant wife," he intoned dramatically, making both girls giggle. Which caused him to roll his eyes. "I'm feeling very out-numbered here," he said. "I think I'll go and visit Qui-Gon – console him on his last day as a bachelor."

And with that parting shot, he was gone.

FORCE-FORCE-FORCE-FORCE-FORCE

Two hours later:

Qui-Gon looked up from his book and sent an affectionate smile at Han's untidy brown head, which was bent over his own book. Although he'd never learned to read, the lad was smart and would soon be level with his peers. In the meantime, he was being tutored by Mace Windu, whom he held in sufficient awe that he would actually do what he was told.

Qui-Gon had offered to tutor the lad himself but Han had expressed his discomfort at showing his ignorance to someone who was "like a Dad" to him. Stunned at the compliment, Qui-Gon had accepted Han's reasoning, and was very grateful that Mace had offered to fill the gap. Han needed as many good adult role models as he could get after all.

"What's this word?"

Qui-Gon looked at the word then shook his head. "Sound it out," he instructed the lad. "Don't be so lazy."

With a martyred sigh, Han took the book back and laboriously mouthed the letters to himself. Then he tossed the book onto the settee and got up. "I'm hungry," he announced. "You want something to eat while I'm gettin'?"

Qui-Gon smiled up at Han. "No, but thank you," he said. "Just leave some sweetcake for Kila."

"Kriff; yeah," Han said. "Ain't no-one should get between her and the sweetcake!"

Qui-Gon chuckled at the accurate – albeit inelegant – observation. Kila was frighteningly possessive where her sweet tooth was concerned. Qui-Gon had never had much of a sweet tooth, but had started to appreciate desserts courtesy of their passionate kisses. There was, after all, nothing quite like tasting sweetcake on Kila's lips and tongue.

"Hey, Qui-Gon!"

Qui-Gon pulled himself back from his mildly erotic musings to see Han standing over him. "I'm sorry; what was that?" he asked.

"A drink. You want one?"

Han eyed him like he was going senile and Qui-Gon chuckled inwardly. "Kevas would be lovely, thanks," he said, reflecting that despite his rough edges, Han would make someone a rather good husband one day. He was caring, protective, funny and quite domesticated – especially for someone who'd been knocking about the streets of Coruscant for Force knows how long!

His stomach rumbled and he called after Han, "Some flatbread would go down nicely, too, while you're there."

"Kriff, man; whatcha last slave die from?"

"I sat on him and pounded him into the ground," Qui-Gon responded deadpan.

"Yeah; so funny. Thought I'd crack up," Han retorted sarcastically, emerging from the kitchen and handing Qui-Gon some flatbread with cheese. "Your drink won't be long."

"Very well." Qui-Gon assumed a haughty look and waved his hand dismissively at his son. "Now, be gone, slave!"

Han gave a rough approximation of a bow. "Yes, Master," he said dramatically then stuck his tongue out at Qui-Gon before disappearing back into the kitchen.

"Ghastly youngling," Qui-Gon called over Han's rusty chuckle. "Why do we keep you around?"

"Because you like me?"

"Right. And why is that?"

"Because I'm smart and funny."

Qui-Gon sighed – the lad was in rare form tonight. "Why am I even talking to you about this?" he asked.

"Beats the kriff outta me!"

The doorbell sounded at that point, saving Qui-Gon from searching for a witty rejoinder. Smart-mouthed young brat … no wonder he and Kila got along so well!

He opened the door and greeted Obi-Wan with an affectionate fatherly hug. "Come on in, Obi-Wan," he said.

"Thank you." Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon in and shed his cloak, running his fingers through his thick sand-colored hair. "I had to get out of my house. Either one of those women is perfectly fine company on their own, but put them together …?"

Qui-Gon chuckled heartlessly. "Kila has quite the rapier tongue," he said.

"She's getting worse too." Obi-Wan smiled then pointed at Qui-Gon. "I blame you for that."

"As you wish," Qui-Gon said mildly, enjoying the frustration on his former Padawan's face. Obi-Wan – despite his status as a Jedi Master and his near forty years of life – remained wonderfully easy to tease.

"Oh, thank the Force!" Obi-Wan sighed dramatically. "Han; save me from your evil guardian!"

Han gave one of his rusty chuckles, accompanied by a smirk. "Kriff, man, forget that," he said. "If he's pickin' on you, he ain't pickin' on me."

"You think I can only torment one person at a time?" Qui-Gon made a tsking sound, loving how much the lad had bloomed in such a short time. He was smart, funny, affectionate – surprisingly well-adjusted and accepting of the life he'd endured. He was no victim, but a survivor. "You really don't know me if you think that."

Obi-Wan smiled at that. "It's true, Han," he said. "My former Master is a man of many talents."

"I think I'll go read in my room in that case," Han said. "Qui-Gon's been stuck with me long enough for one day."

"Please don't ever think that I'm 'stuck with' you," Qui-Gon said, disturbed by that self-deprecating statement. "I hope you realize how much Kila and I …"

Then he saw the wicked grin on his son's face and sighed. "Oh, be gone with you, you evil creature!"

Han smirked, gave a lazy salute and then grabbed his book and disappeared into his bedroom, banging into the doorframe on his way. "Ow …," he groaned mournfully.

Qui-Gon sighed once more then laughed. "Between him and Kila, it's a wonder I'm not completely white," he said.

Obi-Wan laughed also. "But you're happy aren't you, Master?" he said shrewdly.

"I don't think I've ever been so happy," Qui-Gon replied thoughtfully. "I got a small taste of family with Shmi and Ani – I hadn't realized how badly I yearned for it." He gave a sigh for his lost loves before dragging his thoughts back to the present.

FORCE-FORCE-FORCE-FORCE-FORCE

"I'm glad for you, Master," Obi-Wan said. His head turned to look at the holo Padmé had taken of Qui-Gon with Shmi and Anakin Skywalker. He hadn't seen it at the time but, looking at the image afresh, he realized that Qui-Gon Jinn was simply made for family. He indicated the holo. "I don't want to probe, but is Kila comfortable with having that holo up there?"

A proud loving smile appeared on his former Master's face. "She's the one who put it up there," he said. "She encourages me to talk about them – she even regrets never having met them." He gave a very sappy sounding sigh. "She's wonderful and I'm so grateful for whatever made you bring her into my life." He handed Obi-Wan a large cup of caf. "I'll always be grateful to you for that."

Obi-Wan was grateful for his beard, which helped to mask his flushed cheeks. He'd never been good at accepting gratitude or compliments gracefully – much to his wife's amusement. "Oh … well … you're welcome," he offered awkwardly. "I just thought it was time you met. Besides Padmé, you and Kila are my closest friends, and I thought you'd fit well together."

"You're a romantic, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said teasingly before smiling slightly. "Who would have thought twenty-five years ago that we'd be sitting here like this?"

Obi-Wan smiled also, reflecting on the less than auspicious beginning of their time together. Qui-Gon had still been reeling from Xanatos' turn to the Dark Side and had blamed it on his lenient methods. Therefore, he'd been overly strict with an insecure 13-year-old Obi-Wan, causing much tension between the pair. That tension had culminated in Obi-Wan actually leaving the Order for some time to join the friends he'd made on Melida/Daan.

When he'd returned, he'd become sadder but wiser and more mature – was able to accept Qui-Gon's methods more readily. Their rather cool relationship had taken several years to warm up but, by the time that Qui-Gon had nearly died on Naboo, he'd taken up permanent residence in Obi-Wan's heart.

FORCE-FORCE-FORCE-FORCE-FORCE

Padmé stretched out on the settee and rested her hand on her still flat stomach, wishing she could commune with the two tiny lives in the same way her husband could. Not for the first time, she envied Obi-Wan his Force strength. She sipped her kasafruit juice and eyed her friend, who was curled up on the other settee, wineglass in her hand and an unfocused dreamy expression on her face.

"Kila," she said suddenly and the other woman started slightly. "Sorry. Anyway … you seem less nervous about your wedding night."

Kila blushed fiercely. "He's so sweet and loving. And talented." This with a grin and a wink. "I enjoy what we do very much." Another blush. "I know the … it might hurt, but I trust Qui-Gon to be as gentle as possible." Concern crossed her features. "I'm sorry if I worried you last time we talked about this. I'm pretty old to feel like this, but that's just the way life turned out for me."

"I'm always amazed at how unbitter you are," Padmé said. "So many people in your situation would have turned to drugs or sex … or something."

"I'm not some perfect being," Kila argued, going pink. "I do feel bitter sometimes, but most of the time it's fine. I have a good life now and am pretty lucky."

"Luck has nothing to do with it," Padmé opined. "You got yourself a job, worked hard, made friends and reached out to Qui-Gon. You deserve the happiness you feel – you've earned it."

This earned her a quizzical stare from Kila. "Are you sure you and Qui-Gon don't share a brain?" she asked. "He said practically the same thing to me last night after …"

She went an intriguing shade of scarlet, piquing Padmé's curiosity. But she knew better than to probe that much into someone's personal life – it would be far too crass. "Well, we're both right," she said instead. "And I'm glad you and Qui-Gon are getting married. He hid it pretty well, but he seemed so … lost after Anakin died."

"I know," Kila replied soberly. "The man has so much love to give; he's a great father to Han." She rested a hand on her abdomen. "And I hope I can give him more children." She gave a sudden snort of laughter. "Ironic, isn't it? I finally lose some weight and it's possible I won't even be able to see my feet within a year!"

"It's worth it," Padmé said with certainty, resting her hand on her own abdomen. "And you'll be able to communicate with your child before it's born. I envy you that."

"There are other ways," Kila replied. "You can play music, read out loud. It's never been proven to work, but it's never been disproven either."

"In other words, I should stop feeling sorry for myself," Padmé said wryly.

Kila chuckled and lifted up her wineglass. "I'd never say such a thing," she denied. "But that's about the size of it."

Padmé chuckled also at the innocent look her friend currently sported. Qui-Gon was in for quite an experience after he became Kila's husband on the morn!