[rielite]

Obi-Wan really needed to meditate.

Which was why he could absolutely be forgiven for literally running face first into his time-traveled, older self as Ben Kenobi made what could only be described as a hasty retreat from the ship’s commissary.

Neither of them fell over, but it was a near thing. Obi-Wan winced as he rubbed his smarting forehead. They both stared at each other awkwardly for some moments before a belated “Sorry,” came in unison. Ben’s mouth pressed into a thin line, though that did little to hide his mirth, and Obi-Wan found himself giving a small smile in response. “What has Master done now?” He could sense his – their – Master in the commissary with someone, and in all he seemed… rather pleased, which would typically be no great cause for alarm. The fact that Master Qui-Gon’s enthusiasm had sent any version of Obi-Wan (And it was still so strange, to know that this man was him, but not.) fleeing the scene, however, did raise some concerns.

Ben groaned, and cast a half-hearted glare over his shoulder in the direction of the commissary. “Master Qui-Gon has found a like mind and sympathetic ear. They have been discussing the many flaws of the Senate, the Order, and the relationship between the two, for over an hour now, and I fear they are only just getting started.” Obi-Wan echoed the groan, but frowned in confusion when he caught Ben’s expression turning almost wistful. “I had… I’d almost forgotten. How he was, like this.”

Obi-Wan struggled to find a response, only to find no adequate words. The mere thought of losing Maser Qui-Gon as Ben had shook the younger man to his core, and he instinctively reached out along his training bond even though he could sense his Master in the next room without it. (A cold feeling settles in his chest, when he thinks of how often he must have done this, after Master Qui-Gon’s death, only to find the dead remains of a once thriving bond.) Master Qui-Gon responded, and his gentle reassurance was enough to settle Obi-Wan on a response.

“Did we come to be so nostalgic of all of Master’s habits?” Ben turned back to him, and Obi-Wan adopted an expression of mock horror. “Please tell me we haven’t actually missed the adoption of all the pathetic life-forms?” Ben’s eyes widened, and then he was almost doubled over with laughter, leaning against the wall for support. Obi-Wan could practically feel a layer of tension leaving Ben as he laughed, and his own face gained a happy little grin at that. Good. Ben had been far too wound up ever since they met.

Once Ben’s laughter died down, though his eyes still had a happy little crinkle at their corners and a smile tugged at his lips, he stated, “No, not quite yet. Though we shall, unfortunately, have to allow Master to adopt a pathetic life-form on this mission.” Obi-Wan blinked once, and true horror flashed across his face.

“What?” he asked, accent thickening in the face of true confusion and astonishment.

“In fact,” Ben continued, as though he had not just suggested utter blasphemy, “we should not only allow Master Qui-Gon to adopt this particular pathetic life-form, we should encourage it.”

… Perhaps losing Master Qui-Gon had driven Ben mad. “Why,” he asked, his Core accent strained at the very thought of actively encouraging Master Qui-Gon’s propensity to find the saddest organism in his vicinity and insist that it required his personal care and attention.

“Because the pathetic life-form in question is our former Padawan.”

Obi-Wan blinked. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Blinked again. Finally he gestured vaguely behind him, towards the droid bay, where the former Padawan in question was tinkering away at the astromech designated R2-D2. “You mean,” he held his other hand down towards the floor, as though measuring a youngling’s height, “he is -?” Ben took hold of his hand and raised it closer to his hip before nodding.

“Yes.”

Another vague gesture, this time towards the commissary. “And Master Qui-Gon -?” Another nod.

“Yes.”

A more frantic gesture between the two of them. “And we -?!” An amused snort and an eye roll.

“As usual.”

Obi-Wan didn’t know how to describe the noise he made, other than ‘distress’. “Why?”

Ben looked him dead in the eye and said, “The short answer.”

Oh.

Right.

A laugh interrupted them before Obi-Wan could respond. He turned to find one of the Queen’s Handmaidens behind him, struggling to regain her composure, and Obi-Wan felt a blush creep up his neck as he realized how ridiculous their conversation must have looked.