Author's Note: Part 4 in the "Jedi Cooking Lessons" series! Last time I posted to this series I said this was the last one, but wouldn't you know it? I *just* had an idea for a 5th one today XD Anyway. This one, like the rest, can be read as a stand-alone if you so desire. I hope you don't though. I'd love for you to read my other works ;-) Enjoy!

"I still don't see why we need to stay here for the entire night."

"Now Duchess, you know as well as I do that it is not yet safe to return to the palace. As soon as we hear word from your guard that Deathwatch is done rigging bombs in your throne room, it's far safer if you and I go off the grid for the night. We'll be able to reevaluate in the morning."

The Duchess of Mandalore sighed, pulling her mauve-coloured vest around her more tightly. Shifted slightly on the hard-packed earth where they had made camp for the night. Darkness was falling on the little planet Obi-wan had jumped to in an attempt to outrun their pursuers. While the warm fire they'd built helped a little, the cold was starting to creep in. She shivered.

"Cold, Duchess?"

"I'm perfectly alright, thank you."

Obi-wan Kenobi was far too composed an individual to roll his eyes - at her, anyway - but she could tell it was near thing.

"Whatever you say, my lady."

"Satine," she whispered. She saw him turn toward her out of the corner of her eye from where he'd been adjusting their supper on the fire. "We've been through too much… in private, you can…" She sighed again, putting a hand to her head. The simple circlet on her forehead felt cold to the touch. "I'm sorry, Obi. I just can't believe this is still happening. Deathwatch, bombings… needing to flee the planet when I should be with my people."

Obi-wan sat back from the fire, their shoulders brushing as he leaned toward her. "You don't have to explain, my dear. I would be rather prickly if my throne had almost blown up underneath me, as well."

He gave a pained chuckle, attempting for humour, knowing it fell flat. But she adored him for trying. Without thinking, she laid her head on his shoulder, felt him stiffen in surprise before relaxing into the touch.

"So we're being affectionate now, are we?" He asked in a dry tone. Or tried too. She knew him well enough to hear the hidden joy in his voice.

"Please," she answered, just as dry. "You've seen me in far more compromising positions than this." No point keeping her usual stiff-spined composure around the person who knew her best. The person who now - after her sister's betrayal - meant the most to her.

"I'm so glad you were there," she whispered, staring into the crackling flames.

His being there was a fluke. He'd been on a solo mission in another system, and had been flying back to Coruscant when he ran out of fuel. He'd only been in the palace for twenty minutes paying his respects to Satine… when it had happened.

She could still see his face as she'd got up off the throne to greet him. Could still see the jarring change from warm smile to utter alarm, his eyes blowing wide with fear as he'd shouted, "Look out!" and thrown her to the floor. She hated to admit it, but her entire body had trembled uncontrollably underneath him as the flames of the explosion roared around them.

But he had shielded her with his own body, protected her. Like he always did. They'd escaped to a ship, pursuit hot behind them. Now they were here, on some random nearby planet, with the stars overhead, and the dark forest around them, held at bay by the cheery crackling of the flames.

She took a deep breath.

"I am too."

She looked up at the admission, immediately noticing the fear that flashed through his eyes. But it was gone in a blink, replaced by that Jedi composure she so admired… and wanted to wipe off his face. "Really?"

"Of course, Satine!" he exclaimed. "You must know I- I care for you… quite deeply and I … I would never forgive myself if something… I could never…" He looked down, the blush above his beard only visible because she knew him so well, knew how flustered he got when they made mention of their true feelings.

She reached up a hand, turning his face towards her a smile. Her gloved fingers tangled slightly in his beard as she said, "I know, my dear Obi-wan. I just enjoy hearing you say it."

He huffed a laugh, covering her hand with his own, pressing her fingers ever closer. "You always did like to see me squirm."

Their faces were inches apart as she hummed in response. "Admit it. You'd miss it if I stopped."

His voice was a whisper, as their faces slid inexorably closer, like moths to a flame. "I will admit no such-"

Their lips came together in the light of the fire, all words brought to a halt as they let their hearts, rather than their heads, rule their choices for just a moment.

A startling noise had them jumping apart heartbeats later, Obi-wan's hand going to his belt, Satine's to her boot where she kept a secret knife. They raised their eyes to the woods around them, searching the trees, listening for threats.

But the trees didn't move.

The noise came again, and Satine laughed. "Obi, it seems my stomach is simply protesting our missing dinner."

He laughed too. "I supposed we had better stop our shenanigans then, and eat!"

"Is it ready?"

He lifted the lid of the pot he'd found in the ship, which was now hanging over the flames. Gave it a sniff. "Yes, I think so."

As he ladled the stew into their bowls, she said, "I hope so. The culinary skills of Obi-wan Kenobi are a delicacy not to be missed."

"Well, I don't about that. While I am rather fond of cooking, you saw what ingredients - or lack thereof - I had to work with."

While Satine had started the fire going, Obi-wan had gone into the woods, coming back with some local wildlife slung over a shoulder and a fistful of herbs in his hand. It hadn't taken him long to dress the animals and crush the herbs to his liking, quickly setting up a simmering stew over the fire.

The scent of it filled her nostrils as she accepted her bowl, her stomach giving another embarrassing protest as they clinked their bowls together in a toast.

"To good food!" She said with a wink.

"Too good friendships," he added.

All was quiet for a while, save for the night noises of the forest and the crackling of the fire.

Satine broke it by giving a moan. "Mmm, Obi-wan. This is divine!"

He blushed slightly. "It is quite good in the end, isn't it?"

"Truly!" She agreed. "I didn't know you were so accomplished a chef!"

"You flatter me, Duchess."

"Yes." She looked him right in the eye. "I believe that people's skills should be celebrated when the occasion calls for it. Not a lesson the Jedi have ever taken to heart." She raised a brow in challenge.

He didn't take the bait. "No, indeed," he agreed, taking another bite. It was another moment before he added, "I started cooking with Qui-gon."

She eyed him from underneath her lashes. "Really?"

"Yes. I don't think I ever told you, but our relationship had a bit of a rocky start. We tried to find some common ground to work from, something to share that wasn't related to training" His voice lowered to a soft hush. "We found cooking. I learned all the basics from him. And when I got Anakin… well, he'd hardly tasted any of the foods I knew. I wanted to introduce him to as much as possible, so I just… kept learning. But it all started with Qui-gon."

Obi-wan rarely talked about his former Master. She had been closely involved with the man during their year on the run, of course, but only Obi-wan had ever really opened up to her. She'd been devastated at the news of his death, naturally. But not as much, she suspected, as if the news had been about Obi-wan.

So Satine felt no need to interrupt. Except for one observation. "You miss him."

It was a statement, rather than a question. Obi-wan answered anyway. "Yes."

She frowned. "Are you supposed to?"

He hmphed. "Probably not."

They finished their stew in silence. It wasn't an awkward silence though. Neither of them felt the need to fill the air with meaningless words just to keep it at bay. This was a comfortable silence. A silence between old friends. They may have had their differences, and appear to fight more than all else… but if they did, it was just to keep their lingering feelings from rising too high. But they both knew the truth.

Theirs was a bond for life.

They stoked the fire and put away the food - as best they could - before settling in for the night.

There wasn't even a question of lying next to each other; they just did it. Curling up underneath Obi-wan's cloak, Satine could tell that the same thing was on both their minds.

"We used to do this quite a lot during that year on the run," she spoke to the dark.

"We did, indeed. I never thought Qui-gon would go on so many nightly scouting missions."

His arms tightened around her, holding her close, and she revelled in the warm glow it brought to her heart. A glow made all the more precious by the fact that she knew it wouldn't last beyond the morning light.

But she needed to make sure.

"Obi, we both know, don't we? That this can't change anything."

"Yes, my dear." He tightened his grip, as is to counter his own words. "Indeed… I do."

Her eyelids grew heavy as the warmth of the fire, and the warmth of the man she loved began to lull her to sleep. She lifted a hand, giving his face one more caress before resting it on his chest.

His hand stroked a pattern across her arm.

She yawned. "Just for tonight, though. Just tonight… we can… pretend…" She trailed off, and began to dream.

Obi-wan shifter her closer, continuing to stroke her arm. Allowing himself to be lulled by the sound of her easy breathing, he closed his own eyes in a restorative meditation, rather than true sleep. It wouldn't do for both of them to be unaware.

His nostrils filled with the scent of her hair, and he pressed his lips gently, almost reverently, to the top of her head in a midnight kiss. Filled with a warmth he only ever experienced with her, he found himself agreeing with the sleeping form of the woman he loved. "Yes, my love. We can dream."

The End