A/N: Hello, thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you approved of Chloe escaping by herself, or at least almost by herself. Go my girl! But how will she react to Dooku's revelations about her father? Read on to find out…

Chapter Twenty-Four: Harbor

Obi-Wan's speeder was open-topped, and no matter how tightly she wrapped his robe around her body, Chloe couldn't get warm. Ahead, the glitter of Coruscant's cityscape was marred by a smoky haze.

"Care to tell me what happened in there?" His voice was calm and quiet, as if she were a frightened animal he did not want to startle.

"N-not really." Her teeth were chattering.

He glanced at her. "Is that blood?"

She squinted down at the collar of her blouse, stained red despite being soaked in filthy water, and hastily tucked it behind the hem of the robe. "Yeah," she said, as nonchalantly as she could manage. "Not mine."

"I'm afraid you'll have to talk about it soon. The Council will want a detailed report."

"The C-Council can stick it up their unsympathetic, m-miserable, a-asses."

Obi-Wan may have chuckled, or muttered something in reply, but Chloe couldn't hear him because she was too busy remembering tiles covered in blood, and the sound of Morlan's awful, bubbling, dying breaths.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply until the flashback passed, willing herself not to lose it now, not in front of Obi-Wan.

"Hey." Shifting sideways on the bench seat, he held onto the controls with one arm and reached for her with the other, trying to slide her towards him.

She stiffened. "I don't need you—"

"Shh…" he said, "You do, I'm afraid, just for the moment. You're freezing. You're probably in shock. Let me warm you up. Please. Try to relax."

She was too weak to object, so she allowed him to put his arm around her, and tuck her against his side. He was so warm, and he held her so securely, and it was so wonderful to feel safe, finally, that she did relax, and let her head rest against his chest.

"How come you're clothes are already dry?" she tried to say, but it ended in a sniff, because at some point in the last few seconds she had let accidentally her guard down, and tears were streaming down her face.

"They're more technologically advanced than they look," he said, giving her a little squeeze that said he knew she was crying, and that he was pretending not to notice.

She thanked him silently for that. "I just want to go home."

"I'm afraid I can't take you home. Your sector's taken too many hits. All inhabitants have been evacuated to the refuge."

"How bad is it?"

"At first we expected a full-scale invasion but that hasn't happened—at least, not yet. We suspect a carefully-coordinated attack designed for maximum disruption rather than maximum devastation. The Senate has been hit and there are casualties there, but the Chancellor is safe. Of course, we don't know if it's over yet."

"I should go to the refuge. I need to find Matty."

"Why don't you com her from the Temple. We'll be there soon." And as if to make it clear that he was not prepared to argue, he reached forward and activated his speeder's com. "Kenobi here. Please tell Master Yoda I'm on my way in, and I have Chloe O'Brian with me."

They were greeted in the docking bay by a diminutive, olive-skinned Mirialan. "Master Kenobi," she said, and nodded to Chloe. "Master Yoda has asked for your immediate presence in his private office."

"Thank you, Padawan, I'll be right there. Could you please escort Miss O'Brian to Master Che for assessment?"

The girl looked at Chloe uncertainly. "Excuse me, Master, but she's not…"

"Yes, I am well aware of that," Obi-Wan snapped. "Do I have to take her there myself?"

"N-no, Master. Of course not," the Padawan said, shrinking under the intensity of his stare.

Obi-Wan put a hand on Chloe's shoulder.

She looked up at him. "I'll be fine. You go."

"I'll come and check on you later."

"You don't need to," Chloe said, deciding she was too tired to be confused about him any more.

The Temple Halls of Healing were a beautifully calm and tranquil place, and the contrast with the chaos of Chloe's previous few hours was almost absurd. The healer Obi-Wan had sent Chloe to, Master Vokara Che, took in her bedraggled state with not so much as a blink, and left her to shower and change into a set of clean tunics before she carried out a more detailed assessment of Chloe's injuries.

After she'd finally got through to Matty, who, of course, was staking out the Senate, and nowhere near the refuge she should be staying in, Chloe lay on her bed, trying to rest. Her thoughts turned to Dooku, and his claim that her father had allied with the Separatist cause all those years ago. What was he doing when he accessed her mind? Could he have planted that sense of recognition in her head? Manipulated her with a Force-suggestion? Created a false memory?

When Master Che came back, Chloe decided to seek her advice.

"I have never known a Jedi able to create something elaborate as a false memory through a Force-suggestion alone," Master Che said. "Of course, Dooku could have blocked your memory of his visits at the time they happened, and what you experienced today could have been a release of that block. Would you like me to take a look?"

"What kind of look?"

"I can reach into your subconscious, search for any artificial blockages, and then release them."

Chloe recalled the feeling of Dooku's mental probe crawling over her skin; the sense of dread as she knew she couldn't stop him. She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. "I… I don't really feel comfortable with that."

Master Che nodded. "Of course. No more intrusions, I understand. Let me know if you change your mind."

Chloe woke to a firm bed, soft, hazy lighting, and the realisation that she was not alone.

She tried to sit up and then groaned as every muscle in her body protested. Turning on to her side instead, she buried her face in the pillow and mumbled to it, instead of him. "Hello, Obi-Wan."

"Good morning."

"What have I missed?"

"Oh, nothing significant."

She blinked her eyes open to study him, noticing the fatigue around his eyes, the fresh cut on his cheek, his unkempt hair and tunic which was dirty with smoke, or soot, or worse, and decided there was probably an awful lot he was not telling her.

His gaze softened. "How are you?"

"I've got a few scrapes, a cracked rib and lots of ugly bruises but apart from that not so bad. Drowsy though; I'm tanked up on pain meds and Master Che gave me a sedation tonic when I couldn't sleep."

"She didn't offer you a sleep suggestion?"

"No, she did, but after what Dooku did to me I've had enough of people meddling with my head, so I took the chemical option."

His eyes narrowed. "I thought you said he didn't hurt you?"

"He didn't, not physically, at least. He just messed with my mind, a bit. Like it's not messed up enough." She faked a smile. "And by the way I never thanked you, for saving my life last night."

"You don't need to thank me."

"I was convinced you wouldn't come, you know."

"Chloe, apart from anything else, it was my fault you were made a target by Dooku. If I hadn't got you tangled up in all of this in the first place, if I hadn't put you in danger by your association with me…" He rubbed his forehead with one hand. "Of course I had to come."

"But the planet was under attack," she said quietly. "Your duty lay here."

"Well, thanks to Anakin I have plenty of experience in precisely that sort of multitasking."

He made it sound like it was nothing. An everyday occurrence. A mildly inconvenient detour on a walk through the park. No big deal. Don't read anything more into it, Chloe. You just underestimated him, again. She cleared her throat. "So, what brings you here? Need a hacker?"

"No, nothing like that. I've got a meeting with the Council in an hour and I wondered if you felt ready to talk about what happened yesterday."

She was about to say, no thanks, when she stopped herself, realising that if she didn't talk to Obi-Wan, she'd only end up having to talk to someone else later, and that the only person in this place she could imagine talking to about this, apart, perhaps, from Anakin, was Obi-Wan. So she nodded. "Yes," she said softly. "Ready as I'll ever be."

He drew up a chair at her bedside, and listened as she told him about the explosion at Dex's, and the blonde-haired woman in the speeder, and Morden, skating over her description of him quickly, and moving on to the power plant, and Dooku. There was one detail she left out, though: Dooku's supposed revelations about her father. How could she tell Obi-Wan about that, after the arguments the whole scenario had caused between them? How would he react if she told him she suspected Dooku had implanted the memory? Would Obi-Wan laugh at her? Tell her not to be ridiculous?

So instead she told him about Morden's death.

"I can still see him there, on the floor," she said, closing her eyes then opening them immediately when the vision intensified. "Hear his breathing. I can't believe it was me. I can't believe I did that to someone. But I didn't have a choice."

Obi-Wan's body was rigid, his eyes distant. Was he even listening?

"Obi-Wan?" she said, quietly, "I said, I didn't have a choice. Or do you think I did?"

"No," he said, "you had no choice." He turned his eyes on her, intensely serious. "For what it's worth, I think you were incredibly brave. And that you should not waste a moment feeling guilty about it."

Chloe nodded, looking down at her hands.

He covered them with one of his own. "I mean it."

It helped. The burden of guilt lifted, a little. She smiled up at him, weakly. "Okay."

With a little squeeze, he let go. "What happened next?"

She shrugged. "I ran. Ran and ran and ran. Eventually heard them, somewhere, nearby, ditched myself in the coolant channel and was just about to drown when you found me."

Obi-Wan frowned. "I thought you said Dooku used some sort of power over you."

Oh.

"You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," he said, gently.

And that was precisely when she realised she did have to, because, awkward as it might be to ask, he was the only one she trusted enough to find out the truth.

So she told him what Dooku had said, and what he had done, and how vulnerable it had made her feel, how violated. And then, quickly, without looking up, she recounted her theory about the memory being false. "Master Che offered to check," she said, "but I couldn't stand to let her do it… the idea of feeling like that again..."

She shuddered, and then looked up at him, expecting ridicule, but found only tenderness.

"Will you look for me?" she went on, emboldened. "I mean, I trust you, and it's driving me mad, Obi-Wan… and I can't stand the idea of there being something false implanted here, it's awful…"

Her voice trailed off, because now he looked so incredibly uncomfortable that she regretted asking. "Of course I understand if you don't want to…"

"No, no, it's not that." He sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"What's the matter?"

"Chloe. Dooku didn't implant a memory in you. He did meet with your father."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because he told me."

"Who, Dooku?"

"No. Your father."

"When?" was all Chloe could manage to say, when she had regained the ability to speak.

"On Nelvaan. The mission— "

"He told you."

"Yes."

"And you didn't think I might need to know too?"

"Chloe— "

"That's what you were hiding? I knew you were hiding something."

"I… yes."

"So he admitted all this to you and you didn't see fit to tell me? Who did you tell? Are they all laughing at me behind my back? Did you not—"

"I couldn't bear it."

"—consider for a second that I had a right to know? Do you—"

"I couldn't bear it."

"— even realise how insulting that…" she stopped when his words finally penetrated her haze of outrage.

I couldn't bear it.

She shook her head. "I don't understand."

Obi-Wan sighed. "I knew what he meant to you. I knew how devastated you would be. And what was the point? He was already dead; I hadn't been able to bring him back to you. Why make it worse by destroying the image you had of him? It was only when I saw you again, there, in that blasted hangar, that I realised couldn't bring myself to tell you the truth. It was a moment of weakness. I'm sorry."

Stunned, Chloe stared at him, scanning his face as if she could find evidence of the part of his character she had so far failed to perceive. She had never considered, even for a single second, that Obi-Wan would be so sensitive to her feelings… "I didn't…" she began, "I didn't think you were allowed that kind of weakness."

Obi-Wan sighed. He stood up, and crossed to the window, sliding one finger down the glass. "I am only human. I… care about you. And, although it may have been irrational and wrong to do so, I felt I had to protect you from the truth."

That he worked for Dooku? She wanted to ask. Or that he was an aspiring mass murderer? Instead, she said, "how did he really die?"

"In the lab, as I told you. But it wasn't an accident. He locked himself in the test chamber with his notebooks and his samples. I couldn't persuade him to come with me, not to save his own life, no even for…" Obi-Wan hesitated.

"Not even for me?"

"No. Not even for you."

"So you didn't just withhold the truth. You lied. You told me you hadn't mentioned my name to him. And what about the second time, when I asked you about again? When I pleaded with you to tell me what happened? Why didn't you just tell me then?"

"Have you never made a mistake that you regret, but that you would make all over again if faced with the same circumstances?"

"Don't talk in riddles, Obi-Wan."

"You already thought me capable of torturing him to death, for Force's sake. I thought it would hurt you less to think ill of me than of him."

Chloe was stunned a second time, and once it sank in all she could think was, he's right. She would not have chosen Obi-Wan, a man she'd known only a few months, over her father, her role model, her hero, and for a few precious years of her life, her closest friend.

Or so she thought.

"All I can say is that the very last thing I wanted to do was hurt you, and it appears that is exactly what I have done. I'm sorry."

That turned her attention from the man in her thoughts, the man who had betrayed her, to the man standing in front of her. Obi-Wan cared. He really cared, much more than she had ever dared to imagine. She could see it there, now, in his eyes: so pained, so sincere, so unmistakeable. How could she not have known?

Letting out a shaky sigh, Chloe reached for his hand. His fingers, elegant, strong, bore the scratches and stains of the previous night's rescue operation, his neatly-trimmed fingernails still grimy with soot. She turned his hand over, and ran her fingertips along the callous that lay across his palm. "I think you really might be human, after all," she said, quietly. "And you don't have to apologise to me for that. I should have realised he was far too clever to work for a cause he didn't believe in."

She closed her eyes and rubbed one hand across them, trying to make sense of it all. The grief for the father she remembered was still there; the truth hadn't miraculously taken that grief away. She didn't feel devastated, either—at least not yet—so much as foolish, angry, empty, and alone, and she wished Matty were here, because then at least she would have someone to hug.

Obi-Wan's hand slipped away, and there was a slight rustle of clothing as he moved, and she was waiting for him to make some excuse and leave, because, no matter what he felt, it was clear that he still believed human nature to be a weakness, and in this case the need for comfort she was experiencing—intense longing, more accurately— was almost certain to be something he thought—how had he put it?— Irrational and wrong.

But then she felt his hand, tentatively, brush her elbow, and the other touch her shoulder, sliding behind, easing her forwards, against his chest.

She crumpled, then. Gave in, finally letting down all her barriers because she was too exhausted and broken to resist, exhaling her pain and frustration and helplessness into his smoke-stained tunic, pleading silently with him to stay like this, for just a little longer.

"What can I do to help you?" he whispered, against her hair, and his voice was so uncharacteristically plaintive that she had to pull back and look up at him to see why. That was a big mistake, because his lips were only millimetres away, and he had asked, after all, and her thought process went no further because she was already kissing him.

He didn't resist. He kissed her back, for a few long, wonderful seconds.

She was just about to reach up and wind her fingers into his hair when his hands tightened on her upper arms, and he pulled away.

It was as if he'd wrenched half her body with him, tearing her in two, and she could barely remember how to breathe, never mind manage a coherent apology, which was what she really should be doing right now because kissing him was the worst possible thing she could have done, for her own sake, never mind his.

Meanwhile, he was backing away, flustered, embarrassed, slightly horrified. "I'm sorry… I didn't intend that to happen… to take… advantage of you. It was totally inappropriate."

Too hazy to be embarrassed just yet, thanks to the intoxicating effect on her mind and body of a mere three seconds of kiss, Chloe found his chivalrous discomfort sweetly charming. She shook her head. "You didn't. It was my fault."

He rubbed his forehead, hiding behind his hand, cheeks flushed, still embarrassed. "I should go."

Great job Chloe. Just great. Now he's going to run away.

"Hey don't worry about it, didn't mean anything," she babbled. "I, um, old habits die hard, I guess. What about your report?"

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

I love you. I'm in love with you, you stupid man; why can't you see that? I'll never stop being in love with you until the day I kriffing die…

"No," she said, wondering exactly which bit of her malfunctioning brain never allowed that thought to spill out of her mouth. "I think you got everything."

"Right." He checked his chrono. "Goodbye, then."

"Obi-Wan?"

"Yes?"

Suddenly shy, she looked down at her hands. "What you said, about remaining cordial. I would like that."

When he didn't reply, she was too afraid to look up.

"So would I." He was lingering by the door, and his soft smile threatened to make her blush.

She fluttered her fingers him. "Now shoo, Master Jedi, or you'll get in trouble, and I don't want you coming to blame me."

He grinned, and dipped his head in a bow. "Milady."

She blew him a kiss. Watched him leave. Flopped back on the bed, drained and exhausted beyond anything she had ever experienced. But a flicker of something hopeful danced in her chest, and a warmth that she had not felt for weeks suffused her body, and she closed her eyes and allowed herself to relive the memory, just this once, while it was fresh in her mind, of how it felt to kiss him.