Title: Casablanca's

Rating: PG-13. Or whatever that new rating system is…

Summery: Based off a combination of scenes from Casablanca (aka one of the best movies ever created), Obi-Wan is drunk alone in a bar when Padme comes to visit to explain her marriage to Anakin. Quite obviously Obidala. Sod off if you don't like it.

Warnings: A/A-ers beware. I don't take any of your flaming seriously anymore. Go be immature somewhere else. Plzkthx. Obi might be a little OOC too, but I can totally see him as an angry drunk.

Other notes: I haven't written fanfic in awhile (a few years!). I'm a bit rusty… So onward and forward!

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Obi-Wan Kenobi had started with a fresh forty ounce bottle of Major Jaq'Dan's finest whiskey. He was now pouring himself another shot miserably, with three fourths of the contents in the bottle now gone. The bar had been closed for hours and owner had long gone to bed in his apartment upstairs. Obi-Wan was left alone, well enough acquainted with the owner to stay. The owner was a kind woman named Mariana Casablanca who didn't dare let Obi-Wan venture back home in his current state of mind. Therefore she had allowed him to stay the night, as she had done so many times before.

Obi-Wan sighed, burying his face in the folds of his arms. He was dressed in black leather pants and a plain white shirt, enough to make the bar girls swoon. He had been dogged by them all night, but this evening he was in no mood for a one night stand. All he could think about was her and how she didn't love him.

Padme.

She had married his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker. Of all the immature punks in the galaxy she picked his apprentice.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Padme?" he spat bitterly, slamming his fist of the table. His lightsaber shook, momentarily threatening to roll off the bar. He let out a miserable groan and poured another shot. He tossed it back in one gulp, then almost choked, sensing another person in the room. He swung around on the bar stool. "What are you doing here?" he sneered.

"You're drunk," a woman's voice answered from the darkness.

"How did you get in here?"

"The back door was unlocked," she answered. "I assumed it was for you in case you decided to leave."

"What do you want, Padme?" Obi-Wan snapped. Padme stepped into the light and took off the hood of her cloak. She was wearing a short blonde wig, which Obi-Wan was used to seeing her in. She always tried to disguise herself whenever she came to meet him. This time was no exception.

"I wanted to explain," she said, walking towards him. Her heels clicked eerily against the cold tiles on the floor. It sent a chill down Obi-Wan's spine. "I wanted to tell you why I married him."

"Go ahead," Obi-Wan slurred, pouring another shot.

"Stop it, Obi-Wan," Padme said.

"Stop what?" Obi-Wan smirked, tossing his shot back.

"Drinking," Padme said in disgust. "I came here to explain, I won't do it with you this drunk!"

Obi-Wan stood up and grabbed her by the arms, pinning them to her sides. "You lied to me," he gritted. "You told me you loved me. You made me believe it! You made me believe that you loved me!"

"Ben, please don't," Padme whimpered. Obi-Wan squeezed her tighter.

"So we're back to 'Ben', are we?" he growled. " 'Dear Ben', 'Sweet Ben', 'My Darling Ben'. Which one is it tonight, love?"

"Don't mock me," Padme replied. Obi-Wan laughed. She could smell the whiskey on his breathe. "How much have you had to drink?"

Obi-Wan motioned to the nearly empty bottle. "That much, love. That much."

"Why...?"

"Why do you think! Even you aren't that stupid!" Obi-Wan glared at her, pulling her closer. "Stupid enough to marry a whiney, arrogant little child, yes! You couldn't even find a real man to leave me for! And you're stupid enough to pull this shit maybe, but you're not nearly so ignorant as to not have any ounce of understanding as to why I'm bloody drinking!"

"He'd kill us if he knew," Padme whispered. "You know he would. He'd kill me. He'd torture you horribly."

"Go ahead and let him," Obi-Wan spat. "It can't be any worse than what you're doing right now."

"Stop it," Padme snapped. "You're not in love with me. Jedi aren't allowed to love. I found the exception to that rule and you understand that better than anyone!"

"Don't get all high and mighty with me, love. I think I know how my own Order works better than you. There's a difference between being raised in it and reading about it. What do you know anyway, you're just a politician."

"Don't be so bitter!"

"I'll be as bitter as I fucking want," Obi-Wan growled, then pulled her to him and kissed her. Padme tried in vain to push him away, but she couldn't bring herself to. She missed his kisses. She missed the way his beard ticked her chin and how soft his lips were. He was gentle and kind, Anakin was too eager and rough. She let out a small moan. Obi-Wan pulled away. "You've missed me," he said. "I can hear it in your head. Anakin is nothing like this is he? He's so inexperienced after all."

"Don't…"

"You should have thought about that before you gave a little boy his first kiss. He's been waiting for you, you know. Thought about you everyday. I could only be so lucky he never found out. You're right. He'd torture us. But I don't care. One bit."

He kissed her again, this time with more force. He was determined to kiss her the way he knew she liked it. The way she missed being kissed. So she would miss him. Come back to him.

"I can't come back to you…" he heard her mind whisper.

"I can pretend you will," he murmured.

---- The End ----