Author's Thanks: to MusicDreamer & Falcona and Luke!
• MD: And your guess would arise from...? I won't say if you're right or wrong, since I've decided to reveal it at the end (supposing I ever get there). I'm curious what makes you say it's Depa Billaba. I'll probably take a look at your stories, sometime... At the moment, I'm having trouble keeping on top of (okay, I'm failing at it) the stories I'm in the process of reading. Sorry. :)
• Skywolves: Glad you liked it. This one has a character in the movie's sidelines, but maybe you'll like it, too... :)
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Author's Note:
Majorly busy, right now. I don't know when I'll be able to get back to this... Or any other story on this site. I can't concentrate...
Enjoy! :)
Who Was a Dull Padawan, Again?
"Uh... Siri?"
Grinning flirtatiously, she batted her eyelids at him. "Drink your ale, Oaf."
He took another sip, watching the contents of his fellow Padawan's glass vanish. "Are you sure Master Gallia won't notice the alcohol on your breath?"
She raised her eyebrows. "After my myriad of mouthwash, breath mints, garlic cloves, and coffee grounds? I doubt it."
Obi-Wan tried not to glance at the concoction sitting behind Siri's far elbow. She'd brought it and the Corellian ale with her to his and his Master's suite in the wee hours of the morning. He glanced over at the nearby sink. It felt odd, not seeing the usual teacup waiting for washing...
"Jedi Council to Oafy-Wan. Your Master is not the first to go on a solo mission without his Padawan, over."
"Copy, Ballerina. Doesn't keep me from missing him, over."
She glowered at him.
He smirked and raised his glass. "Do I want to know where you got this?"
Padawan Siri Tachi sighed overdramatically. "I found it with a love letter by my door. So romantic ..."
He snorted.
Her lips quirked. "I told Garen he could shove the letter down the 'fresher."
Obi-Wan choked. " Garen ?!"
"Yep." Her blue eyes didn't leave him as she gulped some more ale.
He had no idea where she put the alcohol in her small frame—she didn't even reach the floor from Master Qui-Gon's stool.
"He said finding Padawan Pavan's letter to my Master gave him the courage to try me—no matter that the Council quietly disciplined and buried the issue weeks before someone had the gall to make the matter public." Her voice twinged with disgust that didn't make it into her gaze.
Obi-Wan frowned thoughtfully. "Who would be stupid enough to hack into the Temple archives?"
"Garen," Siri replied immediately.
"I didn't say drunk enough—"
The door rang.
The Padawans jumped, startled. "Thought Qui-Gon's mission hadn't ended yet!" she hissed.
"It hasn't," a bewildered Obi-Wan murmured back. Who would be out at this hour?
The blonde hurried to hide their activity while he left the kitchen and headed to the main room to answer the door. He stood before the doorway as he opened it. "Y—"
Master Billaba nudged him aside and strode in. She stopped in the middle of the main room, arms crossed. "Padawan Kenobi. Padawan Tachi."
An awkward silence ensued.
"...Sporting a new look?" offered Siri.
The Council member's lips twitched downward. "Not intentionally."
Obi-Wan eyed her apparel and grimaced. Pitch black wasn't unheard-of for Jedi to wear, but... Well, their—er—fit and their wearer's fatal lightsaber ability... Brought to mind an old Sith-witch horror story.
He swallowed. "I take it you've experienced a similar situation as Padawan A'Sharad."
"Yes." She turned to Siri. "I heard you managed Padawan Muln's ill-placed interest."
Biting her lip, Siri glanced back at the kitchen. "Yes, Master."
"Is there really Corellian ale involved or have you already disposed of it?"
The blonde blinked in surprise at the brunette Jedi Master. "Master?"
"I wouldn't mind some, myself." She lowered herself to the couch.
Siri gave the older woman a glass of ale. She sniffed and sipped it carefully. She shrugged. "Not bad, but I've had better." She frowned at them, continuing her small sips. "Serve yourselves. I wouldn't ask for some if I minded you two drinking."
Siri wasted no time in obeying, shoving more ale at Obi-Wan.
Again, Master Billaba's lips twitched. "And you brought the gift to share with Padawan Kenobi. Is there a connection?"
Obi-Wan coughed. Siri froze, an irritated smile plastered on her face. "I'm sorry?"
She shook her head. "You Padawans are more responsible than the Knights who constitute my childhood friends."
He blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
Jedi Master Depa Billaba smiled slightly. "You heard me correctly, Padawan Kenobi." She finished off her half-glass of Corellian ale in one swig without flinching. "My best friends are consistently drunk."
Her glass in hand, she waved at them. "Come to my place. I shall acquaintance you two with good alcohol."
