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Chapter 5

Pulling her hair up and into a simple twist, Sabé sweeps a critical eye over her appearance.

It doesn't matter, not really, but she wants to look nice.

She'd borrowed a dress from Padmé's closet, dark blue and loose, flutters at the bottom when she walks. It's not showy, simple but stylish. Perfect for meeting a friend.

Saché hadn't mentioned the impending dinner since they had arrived back at the apartment and had only grunted an acknowledgement when Sabé had told her where she was going to meet Obi-wan.

"The Jedi have no understanding of true nature because they are all so in denial about their own," she'd warned Sabé, after they'd run into Obi-wan and Anakin all those months ago. "They deny their emotions because they fear them, though I doubt they'll admit that. It's dangerous, and it's not just them that'll pay for their lack of understanding. Remember that Sissy."

Sabé had turned her sister's caution over in her head innumerable times in the past months, but always comes to the same conclusion: Obi-wan isn't like the other Jedi. He's warm and kind and doesn't emanate that aloof, intangible air of otherworldly knowledge she so often feels around the other Jedi she's met. Perhaps she's in denial, but it makes sense to her.

"Take this." A small blaster lands with a soft thud on the bed behind her.

Turning, she finds Saché leaning on the door frame, still looking dour.

Picking up the blaster, Sabé places it gently in a strap at her hip. "Thanks."

"I will be waiting up, and if you're not back by twenty-three hundred I'm coming out looking for you. You can tell Kenobi that."

Sabé gives her a wry smile. "I'm sure that'll have him shaking in his boots."

"It had better. Tell him I'll storm that overly elaborate funeral chamber they call a temple and hold it hostage until you come back," she adds, her expression still stony.

"Right," Sabé sighs.

Grabbing her sister, Sabé pulls her into a tight hug.

"I'll see you later."

"You'd better."

After releasing her, she then walks quickly out of the room and throws her cloak over her shoulders before disappearing out the door.

#######

Dex's Diner is a shabby little dive in Coco town.

The air is heavy with grease and smoke, and the clientele look blue-collared and tired. She's been in far worse, but still, it sets her wrong footed when she steps in. She's a bit over-dressed, one of the draw backs of raiding a senator's closet.

"Lookin' for something, miss?"

Turning, Sabé finds a Besalisk wearing a grease stained apron, leaning over a counter. He grins toothily and crosses one of his sets of arms.

Sabé forces a smile and is about to respond when a familiar voice answers for her. "She's with me, Dex."

Turning quickly on the spot,Sabé finds Obi-wan standing only a few feet from her and reaching out to pull her back with him toward a booth in the corner of the diner.

The Besalisk, Dex, grins and gives Sabé an appreciative once over. "Shoulda guessed. You're too pretty just to have stumbled in by accident."

Sabé forces one of her bright but blank smiles, before allowing Obi-wan to guide her to his booth.

Once she slide into the seat, the cracked plastic cutting at her legs, Sabé begins fidgeting with the hem of her dress. All the topics she'd run through in her head get stuck in her throat now that she's in front of him.

Obi-wan clearly has no such problem.

"I've heard some rather interesting stories," he begins, a calm expression on his face, "about you and Saché's exploits."

Of course he'd heard. Damn.

Sabé tries and fails to fight off a grimace. "Oh…how bad did it sound?"

Setting back, he crosses his arms over his chest and his eyebrows disappeared into his hair.

"You were dressed as Twi'leks. You tricked one of the masters and used him to aid in escaping and get you a meeting with the Council. You have apparently been spying on behalf of your senator, which is not illegal, but is also not supported. You have accused a former Jedi of possible conspiracy to commit murder, and your sister, quite unabashedly, insulted the entire Jedi Order."

Sabé nods thoughtfully.

"That's a fairly accurate summation." She scrunches her nose in thought. "Though we never tricked Master Kit. We just-he interpreted the facts wrong."

And that is not their fault.

He chuckles. "Yes, well, I'm afraid the Council was not impressed with that sleight of hand. No matter how clever."

Sabé feels her face warm.

"It was necessary. Unfortunate, but necessary."

"I'm sure it was." He sighs. "And Saché's little…appraisal of the Order?"

Sabé shifts, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. He's got to be angry with Saché's harsh words for the Order.

"Saché-she just gets a little…annoyed, when she feels she's being disregarded. And believe me, she felt quite disregarded during our little meeting today."

And insulted, but she keeps that to herself.

He sits back, strokes his beard thoughtfully. "The Council can be very frustrating with their ways sometimes."

"To say the least," Sabé mutters.

Obi-wan smiles tensely.

"Why have you been investigating Count Dooku? That does seem more the job of the Republic's Intelligence."

Sabé frowns. It should be clear why they've been doing what they have.

"We are working with Naboo's Intelligence. It's our job to keep the Senator safe and it's become increasingly apparent that the Separatists are a looming threat to her because of her beliefs." She paused, takes a deep breath. "Saché and I volunteered. Padmé is like family to us and we want her to be safe. The best way to do that was to use our resources to bring down those that wish to harm her."

An odd look settles on his face.

"The two of you being uniquely qualified for undercover work helps, I suppose?"

Sabé politely feigns confusion.

Obi-wan's lips twitch up and his eyebrow rise. "You didn't think you could have a meeting with the High Council and not have them check your background?"

A cold dread fills her stomach.

She hadn't really thought too much about that.

Though she knew it was likely, she'd hoped they wouldn't be able to discover their identities through their disguises. She and Saché's history was miniscule and irrelevant at best.

Having lived several years in a remote valley in Naboo, records of their lives were few: school records, testing scores that got them into the academy at Theed, applications to become Handmaidens…all of which were sealed when they entered Naboo's Intelligence. Not that being sealed meant they were impossible to find, especially for Jedi. However it was things of less than sterling quality she worried about. Things not necessarily about Saché and herself directly.

"Your grandmother was Lorrdian. I imagine that was as large a part as your resemblance to the queen as to why you were chosen to be decoy."

He waits for a reaction. When none comes, he reaches forward and stills her hands, now shredding a napkin to pieces. She pulls them back and places them in her lap.

"I guess," she admits.

Glaring at her hands, she mulls over all the horrid things the Jedi had pulled up on her family.

Not that any of it was secret, but most of the time it was overlooked due to she and Saché's pristine records of service to the former Queen and now Senator. In general they were able to avoid it, especially since leaving their homeworld.

"Sabé…"

She swallows down bile rising in her throat.

"Did they just look for reasons to discredit us-dig up every nasty little thing they could about our family?"

He shifts uncomfortably, glances around, maybe preparing for an outburst before answering.

"They were very thorough." Scooting closer to the table he leans in. "I don't think they were trying to discredit you. Just getting an idea as to who they were dealing with. If it's any consolation it took two masters and nearly a dozen padawans to put together the file on the two of you and your family. After they figured out who the two of you were, that is. They said they've not seen such an extensive list of aliases and false trails in quite some time. They nearly postponed the meeting because of it."

A small, satisfied smile forms on Sabé's face. At least they'd caused some trouble for the nosy Jedi, even if it still cost her some dignity.

"Sabé, whatever they did or didn't find it doesn't make a difference to me you know?" His tells her, his expression still kind.

Sabé can't help but scowl at him.

"How could it not?" She swallows hard, fighting to keep from imitating her sister and insulting the entire Order. "Nammy was a Madam, my mother was a mentally unstable spice addict who overdosed when her married boyfriend-my father-vanished from the galaxy, and my sister and I were raised above a brothel until Lorrd closed down the business. We only have any good standing because we were recruited into the handmaidens. We weren't exactly brought up in a stable environment."

"And yet you've flourished. I trust you, and though you aren't always completely honest you do so out of duty, loyalty to the people you care about."

Letting out a long sigh, Sabé shakes her head.

"Most people don't feel that way. Nammy tried to protect us, that's why she chose Naboo after her business was shut down. People there are less harsh. Nam told us our dad's family even took legal action so we couldn't use his name or claim any right to family money back on Corellia."

When Obi-wan doesn't say anything, Sabé continues, "I don't think anyone could look at where we came from and expect to find good people."

"You are good, Sabé."

"Is that why they dismissed our evidence so easily?" Sabé asks, ignoring his attempts at comfort.

"No," he frowns. "They honestly don't believe Count Dooku is capable of this kind of deception."

"Do you?" She asks, finally meeting his eyes, fixing him in a wary stare.

He sits back and strokes his beard then shakes his head. "He was Qui-Gon's master. I don't-can't believe he would do such a thing. Even if he is a former Jedi, as your charming sister is so quick to point out."

Sabé sharpens her glare. "My charming sister may be harsh with her criticisms but that doesn't make them wrong."

Obi-wan's eyebrows rise. "I'm not trying to fight with you."

A moment passes, then another.

"I-I know." Sabé sighs, shoulders sagging in defeats. She presses her fingers to her eyes before forcing a smile. "I'm sorry."

He smiles.

"And I'm impressed. You were able to hide the fact that you weren't a Twi'lek from Master Fisto. He understands lekku language, you know?"

Sabé finally feels her mouth pull up at the sides and she shrugs.

"We are very good at what we do." She shrugs. "Plus it's easier to fake it when the lights are flashing and everyone has had a few drinks."

She leaves out that she and Saché had grown up around Dalmaa and Daalia Cato, media moguls and Twi'leks, and that they'd taught the sisters lekku language from a young age. It was an extension of their kinetic language, simple as exhaling to them.

He nods, clearly amused with the tactics.

"Impressive, quite impressive."

"Yes," Sabé agrees. "It is."

#######

The rest of the evening is spent more amicably.

They discuss some of the girls' more interesting undertakings for Naboo Intelligence, names and locations changed to protect no one, and Obi-wan entertains her with tales of his and Anakin's various, much more dangerous, exploits.

"I can't believe some of the stuff the two of you get up to," Sabé laughs as she sets her drink down, nearly tipping it over.

"It's hardly any worse than any of the things you've told me about," he chuckles.

Sabé shrugs. "We're never in any real danger. We aren't really important and could easily be denied as agents. There'd be no reason to keep us and they'd hardly get any ransom out of us. A couple of Jedi on the other hand…"

From what she's heard, Jedi on the black market fetch a considerable price.

He chuckles at her assessment before glancing at his chrono, his eyes widened. "Nearly twenty-three thirty, we should be going."

"Oh stang!" Sabé yelps. "Saché's gonna flip!"

Obi-wan looks amusement. "Why is that? Other than being herself I mean?"

Sabé quickly scoots out of the booth and pulls her cloak tighter around herself in preparation for the trek through Coco town.

"She said if I wasn't home by twenty-three hundred she'd be out looking for me, and trust me, she will be."

Saché will be climbing the steps to the temple if Sabé is much later.

She begins to quickly say her goodbye when Obi-wan, with his unnatural speed, rises deftly to her side to escort her out the door.

"Shouldn't we pay?"

"Don't worry, I have a tab," Obi-wan quietly tells her as he raised his hand in goodbye to the Besalisk.

Sabé expects him to hail an air taxi for her once they reach the outside and bid her a goodnight, however once he's helped her in, he seats himself in beside her.

She shoots him a questioning look and he smiles.

"You can't expect me to send a lady out at this hour by herself can you? Very ungentlemanly of me."

Sabé rolls her eyes playfully but appreciates the gesture all the same

The ride back to the apartment is short and uneventful.

The florescent lights of the shops and bars flash by the windows and reflect off the surfaces in the taxi, giving it a rushed, obscene feel. It's almost like a scene from one of Saché's holodramas with Luke Absolem. Even though her night has no chance of ending like those sordid stories, the thought is exciting just the same.

No sooner has Obi-wan helped her out of the taxi, when her ears are assaulted by a mangled whaling.

"Sabelle Antilles Lindzee! I warned you!"

Saché has her by the shoulders, hugging her fiercely before turning and jabbing a long, manicured finger into Obi-wan's chest.

"You," She hisses, glaring up at him, apparently unable to articulate anything more

Gently pushing her sister's hand down, Sabé forces her voice to stay calm.

"Saché, I'm a big girl and I'm not that late. We just lost track of time. No reason to get blaster-happy."

Saché's glare cuts to Sabé and she huffs. "No comm, you don't answer when I message you, and then I find your comm sitting on the dresser!"

She holds up the device, shoving it into Sabé's face.

Wincing, Sabé mutters an inaudible apology. She'd simply forgotten it.

"A likely story," Saché grumbles.

"I'm sorry for getting her home late. We really did just lose track of time," Obi-wan explains, his expression contrite.

Cool glare still in place, Saché simply huffs.

Sabé, trying to diffuse her volatile sister, pulls her away, forces a smile. "I'll be up in a minute. Just cool down, alright?"

"Cool down?" Saché looks exasperated. "Cool down? Sabé I have been worried to death."

"I'm not that late."

"An hour," Saché's expression darkens, mouth a thin line and eyes narrow. "You're lucky I didn't head out earlier. If Typho hadn't held me up I'd be in Coco Town by now."

"I'll be sure to thank Typho then," Sabé comments dryly.

Saché isn't amused.

Someone behind them coughs. The girls turn and find Obi-wan behind them.

"I should be going," he tells them, no doubt eager to escape the awkward situation Saché has created.

"Oh, of course," Sabé murmurs, feeling disappointment settle over her. Damn Saché and those holodramas.

"It was nice catching up Sabé," he tells her as he reaches out and takes her hand, puts it to his lips, giving it a soft little kiss before turning to the other girl and nodding civilly. "Saché."

"Kenobi," Saché returns the nod without any hint of a smile.

Taking a deep breath he turns and is back at the taxi and gone before Sabé fully registers what's happened.

"Must you always be so rude?" Sabé grumbles, slumping off toward the entrance without waiting for a response.

"I was worried! For all I knew you were kidnapped, dying or dead, or stars only knows." Her chin trembles slightly and her voice cracks. "Sabé, you're the only person in this world I have left. I worry. I'm your big sister. I'm supposed to protect you."

Sabé's heart constructs. "I know Sach...but I can take care of myself. You can't protect me from everything, no more than I can protect you."

Saché sighs. "I know. Won't keep me from trying though."

Linking arms, they began to make their way to the sliding doors.

Sabé, though happy to have made up with her sister, still feels the pangs of disappointment at having not been able to properly see Obi-wan off. However that may have been.

Saché apparently reads her downcast mood. "What were you planning Sabé?"

"Nothing," she answers. Which is true. She'd had hopes, but no plans.

"Uh-uh." Saché's eyebrow pull together and she frowns again. "Sabs you said you wouldn't do this to yourself. He's not good enough for you."

"He's too good for me, more like," Sabé mutters, pulling the ties from her hair.

Saché shakes her head. "No he isn't. Don't let him make you think that."

"He wouldn't. I know you don't like the Jedi for whatever reason, but Obi-wan isn't like all the rest."

She sounds foolish and desperate and she knows it, but she wants Saché to understand, even just a little bit. "

"He's my friend. He cares about me in his way, and he's not stringing me along. I enjoy his company."

Saché runs a hand over her face and sighs, her smile full of pity.

"I know he's your friend and you like to be around him, a little too much sometimes. I don't doubt that he cares about you in some weird way...but they don't care like the rest of us. They've been brought up not to. When it comes down to it, you're just one more insignificant bug to him. He may not be stringing you along purposely, but he isn't using that lovely force power of his to sense he may be doing it unconsciously."

She re-links her arm through her sister's and pulls her toward the lift.

"He's cute, Sissy, and he's nice enough, but there are plenty of cute, nice enough guys out there without all that stupid Jedi baggage trailing along behind them."

Nodding, Sabé keeps her thoughts to herself. They'll never agree on this.