Disclaimer: Only George Lucas could show just how many things there are to have bad feelings about. A thousand times over, thank you.

Authors' Note- Sorry for the wait, Thanksgiving and school had us delayed!

Thanks to: Rono- We're glad you found this story to read too! Thanks for making our day yet again. QueenMeep- Toning humor down? Geez that hurt! We thought it was funny! KillinBuddy- At least now you're reviewing for a reason! We're glad you've finally seen them! MercutioArcher- Lauren was too freaked out to comment.Kaely, however, loves your reviews almost as much as you seem to enjoy our story. They make me laugh, and althoughI don't necessarily do a happy dance, I'm excited to see your responses nonetheless. ShadowCaster360- We read all your reviews in a British accent now! Seriously, don't hate us. swiftykenobi- It's a humor story! Of course he's okay! We love your review! Princess-Aiel- Wow! We plan on going crazy too! Maybe we'll see you there. Nano45- Okay, here you go…. I'm so behind/Funky Chicken- MR. ALWIN SUCKS!

An Unexpected Guest

Chapter 7

"You're sick?" I say to a disheveled, miserable looking Obi-wan twenty minutes later.

"What, I'm not allowed to be sick now?" he croaks, snorting up a trail of snot streaming from his nose. "I told you it was too damn cold down here."

"You can't get a cold from, you know, coldness. That's a myth."

"Hmm," gurgles Obi-wan, "I suppose you're right. It was probably one of the clones … I have a feeling they haven't been washing their hands before fixing my, erm, food. Probably don't even wear gloves…."

"You're a prisoner, Obi-wan," I say, sitting down opposite him on the cold floor. "They don't care if you get food poisoning."

"You know," Obi-wan begins in a way that causes me to think that he's going to completely ignore the point of this statement, "I don't think I want you to call me 'Obi-wan' anymore."

"What?"

"Well yeah, I mean, Anakin's dead, right? I'm gone too. How about the name … Ben?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Obi-wan?" I grumble, as usual annoyed by whatever it is he's trying to do.

"That would be Ben, thank you very much," he sniffs.

"I am not calling you Ben!"

"Fine, Anakin!"

"Don't call me that," I mumble.

"Really, Anakin, we've been through this before. Let's save ourselves some time and just agree to call me Ben."

"What does it matter?" I ask. "You're still just going to call me Anakin."

"True," he says, blowing his nose.

"And besides," I continue, "you can't just make up some new name on the spur of the moment!"

"Well then how the hell did you come up with 'Darth Vader?' I'm sure that didn't take much thought," he says.

"Well," I start, remembering how excited Palpatine was when he told me the origin of my name, "Palpatine actually spent a couple of years thinking up that one."

"A couple of years?" Obi-wan enquires.

"Okay, ten years. He likes to name things," I sigh, remembering back to the way he painstakingly named every clone that he met, which was invariably a lot.

"Wow, and I thought I had no life…."

I don't even bother defending my master against this comment. He really does need to get over that whole name thing.

"So anyway," Obi-wan begins, "is this the only reason you came down here: to watch me sneeze my brains out and then refuse to call me by my appropriate name?"

"Your appro- oh never mind," I sigh resignedly. "No, that is not the reason. I've been looking for you for a couple of hours, trying to figure out how you're escaping."

Obi-wan lets out a laugh that quickly turns into a hacking cough. "You've been looking for me?" he manages to choke. "Did it ever occur to you to look where you locked me up, first?"

"That would've been too simple," I murmur.

"Apparently."

"Well, you've always been so – ."

"Why hello Lord Sidious," Obi-wan interrupts, and I have to turn around to see what he's talking about. Palpatine is standing directly behind me, holding what appears to be my cape.

I scramble to my feet and give a hurried bow while Obi-wan starts gagging from his side of the cell. Whether they are real or simply mocking gags, I cannot tell.

"My Lord," I stammer, "what brings you here?"

"Oh, I simply thought I'd return this to you, Lord Vader," he says, passing me the cape through the bars of Obi-wan's cell. "You left it in my room earlier."

"Right," I say. "Thank you sir."

Palpatine begins to back away slowly, casting odd suspicious glances between myself and Obi-wan. He finally exits after a stretch of uncomfortable silence, during which I fasten my cape.

I sit back down and Obi-wan says, "So that's why you joined the Dark Side."

"What?" I ask, feeling like I've missed something.

"I have to admit, Anakin, I'm a little offended. I mean, I certainly don't roll that way, but I at least have a better ass than Palpatine."

"What!" I yelp.

"And I'm less wrinkly. I would've been a much more attractive master."

"Okay, stop!" I say, gesticulating frantically as I try to comprehend what he's saying. "What are you talking about?"

"You and Palpatine," says Obi-wan as if it's the most obvious thing in the galaxy.

"What about me and Palpatine?"

"Geez Anakin, I'm not stupid," Obi-wan says as he rolls his eyes. "You were in his room. You were stripping in his room. Of course, I'm not quite sure where Padme fits in then. What happened there?"

"I was not stripping in Palpatine's room. My cape probably just caught on something when I went after Boba - ."

"Fett was there too?" Obi-wan asks, looking, if possible, even sicker.

" I went down to my master's chambers looking for you," I explain, trying to rationalize the situation a bit. "Boba came to tell me … to tell me…." I pause, remembering Boba's stricken expression as he had entered the room. Obi-wan was obviously suggesting that there was something going on between me and Palpatine, which was absurd … wasn't it? The shower, the constant invites to his chambers, the weird looks, the bed – they couldn't be….

"Oh Force!" I bellow, causing Obi-wan to jump slightly in the midst of a sneeze. "No, that's, that's - ."

"Disturbing?" Obi-wan supplies.

"Yeah," I reply numbly.

"So then, there isn't anything going on there?"

"Ew, no!" I practically screech at him, still in disgusted awe of how I had never noticed any of this before.

"Oh good," Obi-wan sighs raspily. "I feel better already."

Somewhere inside I feel a slight prickle of annoyance. "Like you could even say anything if there was, Obi-wan!"

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, even the Padawans knew about you and Qui-gon!"

"But … how … I …" Obi-wan stutters. For once he has no clever response to my question. "I don't know what you're talking about," he says defensively.

"Really?" I reply smugly. I can tell that Obi-wan is shocked that I ever knew about his 'relationship' with Qui-gon, but really, it was so obvious. The way Qui-gon looked at him, the way they were always so close … quite a disturbing sight when you're ten.

I continue to smile smugly at Obi-wan. Although he can't see my smirk, I'm sure he knows that it's there. It feels nice to have all the power for a change.

"Okay, okay!" Obi-wan snaps suddenly. "It's not what you think! It was only a one time thing!"

"A one time thing?"

"It wasn't my idea, Qui-gon thought it would be fun. I didn't even know he was into guys! I didn't really want it to happen, but I just got carried away. He was so strong … I still remember the way his hands felt when – ."

I have to cut him off. "Okay, way too much information! I really don't need to know all that," I say, getting a little grossed out.

"Hey, you're the one who asked!"

"So in other words," I begin, mind still reeling from this gag-worthy conversation, "you do 'roll that way.'"

"No, not really," Obi-wan states simply. "Qui-gon and I just had a special connection. Not an attachment, as that would be against the code," he rectifies, "but everyone experiments as a Padawan."

"I didn't," I correct him.

"Thank the Force for that," Obi-wan mumbles. "Your fascination with Padme was enough to cope with as it was." He pauses as if expecting me to say something, as if knowing I'm going to say something. He draws me in and I hate it.

"How – I mean – how did she die? How did I kill her, Obi-wan?" It's rather random, I know, but I have to know what happened. I failed her, and somehow after all these years I can't let go of that. Obi-wan looks at me for a moment, and it is curious how unsurprised he is that I've brought the conversation from disturbing drabble about his sordid affairs as a Padawan, to her – to Padme.

"By becoming what you are, Anakin," Obi-wan says quietly. "By not trusting us, by lusting for power. You killed her when you tried to save her."

"But, erm, Palpatine said that out of my rage I - ."

"Well, you did try to strangle her for a moment there," says Obi-wan, a little more lightly than I would have expected or appreciated. "I mean, 'breaking my heart?' More like 'breaking my throat….' That's not what killed her though. She simply didn't have you to live for anymore."

I can't say anything. Somehow the words have vanished from the surface of my tongue. I remember Padme crumpling under my hold that day, I remember feeling her, still alive, and I remember Palpatine telling me I killed her. Thoughts swarm through my mind, indistinguishable, loud, and confusing. And all the while Obi-wan is surveying me with the most peculiar expression on his face, as if he sees something he had never noticed before.

"Stop staring at me!" I burst out at last. "It's creepy."

"Right," he mutters, not appearing to really register what I've said even as he turns to wipe his nose for the umpteenth time.

"Listen, uh," I begin awkwardly, "Can I, you know, stay here for a while longer? Only, I really don't want to face Palpatine at the moment…."

"Fear is a path to the D- oh yeah, you're already there," Obi-wan shrugs. "Sure, what do I care? It's your blasted ship."

"Oh, yeah, er, I know." I lean back heavily against the bars of his cell, preparing to immerse myself once more in deep thoughts I have yet to understand. But of course, Obi-wan has reverted to his ceaseless, pointless questions.

"You wouldn't happen to have some Nyquil, would you?" he asks. "Hey Anakin, how do you take medicine? When you sneeze, does snot get all over the inside of your mask? Wait, did you ever tell me if you did still have a nose…?"

I don't answer him and I don't stop him. I would take even Obi-wan's relentless questioning over Palpatine pinching my butt again any day.

Authors' note- Okay, so there's a lot of odd and awkward gay moments in our story. Sorry if we're freaking anyone out … it just comes to us. This is not an Obi-wan Anakin story though, so that might be of some consolation. Anyway, remember not to come in too hot when you're landing your ships and have a great week!