"I'd never have thought this would be the type of place frequented by Jedi." Chloe glanced back to her companion as they wound their way through the crowd. The cantina was packed with with humans and non-humans of various species, either drinking at the shabby neon-lit bar, dancing on the tiny dance floor or just lurking in shadowy corners.

"Exactly." Obi-Wan grinned, indicating an empty table across the room, then neatly steering her around the trailing tentacles of a slimy, grey being of indeterminate origin. Chloe wrinkled her nose, inhaling the dank, overheated air. She flopped down on the seat with a relieved sigh. Obi-Wan slid in opposite.

"Only ten minutes from Temple Plaza and it could easily be another world," he said quietly, indicating something to a passing waitress with a wave of his hand. "My Master taught me a certain appreciation of life beyond the temple. Although at the time I'm not sure I really approved." His gaze rested somewhere behind and to the side of Chloe's head.

"Of drinking in dodgy bars?" She turned to take in the scene with a frown. A raucous cheer erupted as two scantily-clad Twi'leks climbed up onto the bar. The music changed to a loud, throbbing beat and the girls started to dance.

"Something like that," Obi-Wan had to raise his voice to be heard over the music as it reached a crescendo. "Ah. Thank you". He tossed the waitress a few credits as she deposited two large glasses of liquid on their table, one glowing bright blue, one a murky shade of orange.

Chloe looked at him doubtfully.

"I thought you said you wanted to celebrate?" One eyebrow quirked in mock indignation. He tapped the glass containing the orange drink. "Nemoidian ale." Then tapped the other one. "And Farlian Dead Man's Cocktail. This one," he pushed the glass of blue liquid toward her slightly, "is a particular favourite of mine."

Chloe wrinkled her nose. "They're both alcoholic?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. There's not much you can order in here that isn't. Although I can ask, if you like.."

He was teasing her. Probably. "No," she said.

Considering the evidence, she studied his face. Eyebrows raised slightly as he waited for her to speak. Eyes innocent. Skin flushed a little, perhaps, but consistent with the heat and humidity in here. Lips. Nice lips, kissable lips -stop it, Chloe. Lips, ordinary lips, relaxed, and then twitching, just once.

Chloe smiled, bravely, graciously, but with a hint of sarcasm. "There's no need. If you recommend this, then I'm sure it will be wonderful."

Holding his gaze, she reached for the orange brew and took a confident gulp. It was bland. Barely sweet. Triumphant, she swallowed.

The liquid fizzed suspiciously as it slid down her throat. A second later bitterness exploded in her mouth, quickly followed by fire. Hot, peppery fire. Chloe coughed involuntarily, grabbing the table for support. Obi-Wan disappeared in a blur as her eyes watered, then her head was spinning, and she needed water, to rid her of this horrible taste, and this heat…

And then, in the next breath, when she couldn't stand it any more… there was nothing.

The taste had vanished. The heat had gone.

Nothing was left but a warming sensation, a glow spreading from her mouth to her throat. And it didn't stop there, but propagated, in waves, right down her body; arms, hands, tingling, soothing, every nerve, every sore muscle, in her knees, her calves, tickling lightly on the soles of her feet.

Nonsensically happy, she slumped back in her seat. It was, she had to admit, quite pleasant. Sensually pleasant.

"So," Obi-Wan said, in a low voice, his image still fuzzy through her drink-induced tears. "How was it for you?"

Chloe rested her head back against the wall of the booth, closed her eyes, and laughed. There was really no other possible response. And she didn't care what he thought of her, in that moment; the laughter felt good. The water spilled from her eyes, hot on her cheeks as she laughed some more, sighed, then wiped her face with the back of her hands. She felt herself relaxing, the tension of the past couple of hours finally beginning to drain from her body.

From across the table, Obi-Wan's deep chuckle reminded her that he was still there.

She peeped at him, only half opening her eyes, trying to ignore the sting that accompanied the notion he might be laughing at her, not with her.

But his gentle smile reassured her it was the latter.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I should have warned you. It's quite, err, strong. A sip is preferable to a mouthful. Much easier to handle."

She closed her eyes again, drifting on the brief alcoholic buzz that was, apparently, another effect of the ale.

"Has anyone ever told you you're despicable, General Kenobi?" It was far easier to speak to him like this, when she couldn't see him…

"No, I don't believe they have."

"Hmm...well, after today I think I'm beginning to understand why you might need a drink like that. So I won't call you despicable either, at least not yet."

"How charming. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She opened her eyes and smiled at him lazily.

He inclined his head, the shadow of a bow, lips tweaking simultaneously upwards, then leant back himself, stretching one arm along the top of the seat.

Suddenly brave, she allowed herself to study his face again, quite blatantly, hoping for an answer, or at least a clue to resolving the myriad of uncertainties currently swirling in her own mind. But after a few seconds, he looked away, seeming uncomfortable with her scrutiny.

They sat in silence for little while. As the alcohol wore off, Chloe fiddled with her glass, drawing patterns in the condensation.

"Did you find the mission supervision stressful?" Obi-Wan said, eventually.

She shrugged. "I suppose I'm not quite used to that kind of pressure. And there was enough tension in the room to make-" She stopped herself.

"Go on." Obi-Wan leant forward.

"Perhaps I shouldn't."

"We're not on duty now. Please speak freely. Your insight could prove useful. And I'm not easily shocked."

Really? Thought Chloe. You might be surprised…

"Well," she began, hesitantly, searching his face. His tone had been light, but Obi-Wan's expression was serious. This was likely to be a sensitive topic. She must try not to be flippant. "I-I was surprised by how Master Windu treated Anakin."

Obi-Wan looked down, twisting the glass in his hand. "The Council do not trust Anakin. But they never give him a chance to be trusted."

"And you do. You trust him."

"Yes."

"Even when he pushes every single boundary you set?"

Obi-Wan sighed, and raised his head. "Anakin is incredibly gifted. It is an honour to train him. But yes, he pushes, and he pulls and he fights every restriction placed upon him." He paused. "And you minor in psychology, perhaps?"

Chloe laughed, shaking her head, "Not at all. It's just that I behaved quite similarly, as a teenager, younger than Anakin. I remember vigorously fighting my father's attempts to discipline me. It was almost as if the fight mattered more than the victory. Or lack of it."

Immediately she wished she hadn't mentioned her father, not wanting the memories to come back, not now.

"And you grew out of it? Dear stars, please tell me you grew out of it."

His humorous tone washed over her. Chloe took a slow sip of her drink, not knowing what to say.

Obi-Wan was waiting, patiently, for her to speak.

"No, I didn't grow out of it, at least, not exactly." Chloe focused back on her glass, ignoring the bitterness in her mouth (easier to handle as a sip), relishing the burn in her throat, and the warmth that followed. "I- my father was a professor at the Academy. He specialised in humanoid genetics." She spoke quickly; it was a well-worn speech. "He was always travelling - meetings, conferences. When I was fifteen he took a sabbatical to the Rothana system. It's very remote, frontier territory, almost wild space, you probably don't know it?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No."

"Many of his colleagues did not approve of the visit, since the Rothanians were, amongst other things, rumoured to be using cloning practises outlawed by the Republic. But my father insisted it would be beneficial for him to meet with them, and that the risks had been exaggerated for political reasons." Her throat was dry. She took another sip of her drink before continuing, deliberately not meeting Obi-Wan's eyes. "A week before the visit was scheduled to end, the Rothanians accused him of spying for the Republic. In two days he was tried, found guilty, and executed."

Chloe glanced up, apprehensively, to gauge Obi-Wan's reaction. Much as it was well-meant, sympathy always upset her more than indifference.

But he looked indignant. "And the Republic did nothing to help him?"

"No. I mean, they couldn't. No one knew what was happening until it was too late. We heard nothing until we were sent a recording of the trial."

"And did you see…?"

"The execution?" She shook her head. "No. Just a recorded message informing us when it had been carried out. They sent his personal effects back. His notebooks, and a… confession, forced, we must assume, written in his own hand. We received them the day he was supposed to arrive back."

Obi-Wan regarded her gravely. "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

"Do you miss him?"

"Excuse me?"

His eyes widened. "I'm sorry, that was a terribly rude question. I didn't mean to pry. I don't know where that came from."

Chloe hesitated, then shook her head. "No, it's okay. Yes, I do, even ten years later. Although, you know what? More than anything else I'm still angry at him for abandoning me." She laughed, noticing how close their hands were on the table, hers curled loosely around her glass, his lying just an inch or so to the side. "Very selfish, I know, and, I supposed, as a Jedi, that would make absolutely no sense to you at all."

His calm eyes rested on her, comforting, soothing the prickles of sadness the memories had invoked. "No," he said, quietly, his fingers brushing hers. "I understand. Really, I do." He held her gaze, and the contact for a long moment before breaking away from both.

She expected him to say something else, explain what he meant, why he understood.

"Can I get you another?"

"Hmm?" Chloe felt a little light-headed, and more confused than ever.

He reached for her nearly-empty glass. "Another drink?"

"Yes, of course. Thank you. Sorry."

"Don't apologise," he said, looking down, his expression thoughtful. "And I… I don't wish to make light of what you've just told me, but…" his eyes swept the room before finally fixing on her. "Perhaps we should try to concentrate on more optimistic topics of conversation for the remainder of the evening?"

Chloe smiled. "Ah, yes. Good idea."

"You did say you wanted to celebrate, after all."

"In that case, can we order something a little less like paint solvent? I'll pay if, you like."

"Are you implying I don't know how to entertain a lady?"

Chloe shrugged, resisting the temptation to burst out laughing for the second time that evening. "Who knows?" she said. "I have absolutely no idea."

"Well then," Obi-Wan said, leaning forward, chin propped on his hand, eyes sparkling playfully. "I'll consider that a challenge."

Chloe mirrored the action and raised an eyebrow, hoping he didn't notice the flush rising in her cheeks. "Please do."

An hour or so, most of a bottle of Necr'ygor Omic vintage wine and a long and admittedly, in places, flirtatious conversation later, Chloe was much more relaxed. Obi-Wan was surprisingly easy to talk to and his dry sense of humour had her giggling more than once. And she was not one for giggling, as a rule.

Chloe struggled to contain her mouthful of wine, holding her hand over her mouth while she looked away and swallowed.

"Well, I didn't think it was very funny." This time his smile was charming.

"Of course it wasn't funny. Pondweed all over your carpet? I'm surprised you ever forgave him." Obi-Wan's apartment was far too neat, it was almost disturbing… "Ah, which remindsme," she hesitated, noticing her words were slurring a little. "I've not apologised for fallingasleep in your quarters last night. Y'know, you could'vejust woken me and thrown me out. I wouldn't've minded."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly. You were sleeping far too peacefully."

"Ah, well, thanks, then. Your bed is very comfortable." And has strange, erotic dream-inducing powers. "And where, um, did you sleep?"

Obi-Wan leant forward over the table. His hand landed, perhaps accidentally, this time, on hers. But he didn't remove it. Warmth shimmered up her arm as she waited for him to speak, tension sparking in the air. Or possibly in her own imagination.

"On the couch, of course."

"Of course." She looked down, at his hand. On hers. Relished the casualness of it, the intimacy. Just that touch. In this moment. Made no sense, but it did. Drunk? Yeah, just a little…

And then, the warmth in her throat and the giddiness in her head conspired, persuading her brain what she thought next, in all its glorious ineloquence, should be spoken out loud.

"What I, erm… don't understand, about you Jedi, is this celibacy vow business," she slurred, still looking down at his hand. "I mean, it seems hypo... hyper.., illog.. err, stupid. To me. Actually. Surely you can't be oh-so-fearsome warriors without passion? Without understanding it, at least. Passion, I mean. And love, of course, it's so much of being human. And well, it doesn't fit you, in particular. You're not anywhere near as uptight as I expected, it's hard to imagine you as some sort of… I dunno… asexual, reclusive, um, priest."

Eyes unfocused, her thoughts drifted back to this morning and the Obi-Wan of her dream.

His hands on her, his breath on her skin, his 'tell me what you want…'

That voice! He could probably make you, you know, just with his voice. Hmm, was she thinking now, or still speaking-

SMASH!

What was that? The present intruded abruptly with the loud crash and shatter of glass on the floor. Obi-Wan's hand snatched away. The shock tore through her alcohol-induced mist and a voice inside her head helpfully replayed what she'd just said.

Stupid. Uptight. Asexual priest… Heavens, Chloe. You really said that. Insulted him, his beliefs, his way of life…

And there he was, looking at her, wide-eyed, open mouthed. Oh gods. Kriffing, kriffety-sithspit. "I-I'm sorry." Her voiced faltered. What was his expression? Shock? Horror? "I didn't, I mean...I, err..., can you excuse me for a moment please?"

Option Two. Plan B. Run away.

Chloe jumped up and tried to slip out of the booth but the table was too near to move easily and her boot stuck under the seat. She struggled to get free, looking around in desperation for the ladies' room. Finally loose, she made to leave but Obi-Wan caught her wrist firmly and pulled her down towards him.

"It's over there," he said quietly, indicating the direction with a finger.

"Uh-huh." Chloe nodded, avoiding eye contact and setting off as if to go. He didn't release her, instead pulling her even closer. "Just be careful." His voice was not much more than a whisper. "I can't make a scene here. Don't upset anyone, Okay?"

Chloe nodded feebly, noticing her cheeks were scalding hot, his breath cool on her skin. He let go of her wrist.

Make a scene? What was this place? She was only going to the 'fresher. Chloe tried to concentrate on finding her path across the room without touching anyone, and not on the embarrassment searing through her body.

Male eyes of numerous species following her. She shuddered, still fraught, overhearing muttered, unintelligible comments, half-conscious that her skirt was maybe just a little too short, the heels on her boots just a little too high. Nearly there. But just a few steps from the door, someone blocked her path.

"Hey gorgeous. Need some company?" A thick set, sweaty, patently unoriginal and obviously drunk man leered down at her.

Not what she needed right now. "No thank you," she replied, directing a quick but ill-tempered smile upwards. She sidestepped him and dived for the door. Cheers and bawdy laughter erupting behind her.

Inside, Chloe dashed inside a cubicle, slammed the door, locked it and sat down with a thump.

"Right. Just breathe." She closed her eyes and forcing herself to take deep, slow breaths. Her head was spinning. The music from the main room of the club was muffled to a base beat and her ears were buzzing from the change in volume.

After all she'd been through today, how could she have been so stupid? What was wrong with her? So, she was utterly confounded about Obi-Wan. One moment he was irresistibly attractive, the next she thought he was teasing, and perhaps just naturally charming, then he seemed to be genuinely flirting with her, but surely, he couldn't…? And even if he did, she had no idea what she wanted, in this, whatever this was between them. But it was impossible. Not her, she didn't attract that kind of attention, which was irrelevant, anyway, because according to Li-Sei…

Unless Li-Sei had lied about the celibacy vow.

But would she really do that? Surely not?

Truth or not, one thing was clear: Chloe had made an utter fool of herself. She groaned, putting her head in her hands.

A few minutes of agonised contemplation yielded only one solution.

Relucantly, Chloe unlocked the cubicle and stepped out, splashed a little cold water on her face and smoothed her hair, tucking it neatly behind her ears. She tried to arrange her skirt and blouse to look as demure as possible.

Then she nodded confidently to her reflection, trying to banish any feelings of embarrassment from her mind. Failing. Try to ignore them, then, ride over them. Fake dignity. She might manage that. It was the only option.

She would simply have to go back out there and face him like a woman, apologise for what she'd said, and hope he forgave her.

Holding her head up, she took a deep breath and strode confidently back out into the bar.

But the area just by the door was much more crowded than before and Chloe was forced to pause, trying to work out a way through the bodies milling about in front of her. The music changed to an up-tempo dance beat and grew even louder.

Then she realised someone was yelling at her.

"Hey, you little slut. No girl says no to me." The unpleasant, unoriginal and drunk man from before. Chloe looked around, frantically, for an escape route, trying to glimpse over the shoulders of those around to where she had been sitting with Obi-Wan.

"Did you hear me?" the man continued, taking a step closer.

The glint of a knife under his leather coat. Panic constricted her chest. She needed to get away from him. Now.

The man was just inches away when a waitress squeezed in between them with a tray of drinks.

Suddenly, before she had chance to look for an escape route, Chloe was propelled sideways. A hand gripped her shoulder, firmly, but not painfully.

She gasped as an invisible force shoved her through a doorway into a darkened corridor.