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Bail did not return in time for dinner. His parents did not appear concerned, and Anakin barely noticed, assuming Bail was just doing typical grown-up things, but his absence began to prey on Obi-Wan, who knew perfectly well why the Prince was making himself scarce. He had been brutally harsh to Bail, but he would make it up to him. Eventually Bail would come home, and when he did, Obi-Wan would be waiting for him.

Waiting, in fact, on the steps on the street side of the house, where he would be sure to meet Bail as soon as he returned. Anakin insisted on waiting with him, though he didn't know about the argument. They sat together on the steps, sometimes in silence, but usually with Anakin commenting on whatever random thought popped into his head. Twilight fell, and flying in on the edge of night came the fire beetles, flashing their love calls in the dark. Anakin had not seen them before, and he scampered nimbly across the lawn, catching the beetles and bringing them back to Obi-Wan, cupped carefully in his palms.

Eventually Bail's speeder pulled up the driveway and into the garage. He came around the front of the house, approaching them slowly across the grass.

"Look at these things!" Anakin enthused, holding out his hand to show the Prince his catch.

"You like them, do you?" Bail asked as he settled down on the step next to Obi-Wan.

Gently nudging at one of the beetles with his fingertip, Anakin said, "It's like they have a little star in their butts."

Bail ducked his head, chortling, while Obi-Wan struggled not to laugh. "Actually, that's a pretty accurate analogy," Obi-Wan offered. "Their abdomens are filled with gas."

"You mean, they've got gas?" Anakin repeated, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "So when they light up, that means they're farting?"

"All right, that's enough," Obi-Wan cautioned, though he couldn't contain an annoyed smile, and Bail burst out laughing.

Grinning, Anakin continued, "I wish I could fart fire!"

"I said that's enough," Obi-Wan warned through his snickering.

"If you ever ate Togorian chili, you would fart fire," Bail offered. He and Anakin both dissolved into giggles, and Obi-Wan, surrounded, finally gave in. Anakin's fit of laughter startled the beetles, who flew off into the night, winking as they left.

The somber part of Obi-Wan reflected that body functions were not really an appropriate source of humor, but the honest part of him had to concede that he had found those precise topics hilarious when he had been Anakin's age. Young padawans in particular, with more worldly experience than the initiates, had a notorious reputation for finding humor in all sorts of inappropriate places. The difference between him and Anakin was that he had never joked about those things with his master. In fact he had been with Qui-Gon for over a year before he ever dared to joke with him. It wasn't that he and Qui-Gon did not have a sense of humor, far from it. But the initial year in a Master-Apprentice bond tended to focus on setting rules and guidelines, laying the foundations of the teaching relationship, not developing friendship and casual interaction. Obi-Wan needed to establish himself as the authority in Anakin's life, all the more so because Anakin was not accustomed to deferring to his elders. Obi- Wan knew all this, and yet he had to admit it felt good to sit here on the steps with Bail and Anakin, laughing about fart jokes. Right now Anakin needed a friend as much as he needed a master, and Obi-Wan was himself still too emotionally vulnerable to want to enforce a proper distance from his apprentice. The situation was not appropriate at all, and yet he couldn't help himself. He could only trust in the Force and follow his own instincts.

When they had settled down, Obi-Wan said to Bail, "Anakin is very eager for his swimming lessons, and I'm sure you want to help teach him. When do you think you might have some free time?" Anakin leaned forward on Obi-Wan's knee, trying not to show his impatience.

Bail looked back and forth between the two of them for a moment, before replying, "I probably can arrange an afternoon off, that is, if you can't wait for the weekend. Let me check my schedule."

Anakin grinned, as Obi-Wan dryly remarked, "I'm sure Anakin will be ready whenever you are. Now, Anakin," he nudged his padawan, "why don't you go in and see about warming up some dinner for the Prince? We'll be along shortly."

Jumping to his feet, Anakin said, "Okay. No Togorian chili, though, right?"

"Right," Bail answered. Anakin flashed him another grin and ran into the house.

For some time, Bail and Obi-Wan sat in companionable if awkward silence, watching the fire beetles over the lawn. Then Obi-Wan said, "I'm sorry about last night. I was far too harsh, and it was quite unwarranted."

"No, you were right," Bail contradicted. "I'm no Jedi, and I don't know the first thing about teaching a padawan, let alone raising a child."

"You know far more than you think you do," Obi-Wan assured him. "And I really do benefit from your advice and suggestions. I just need to be careful around Anakin."

"I understand." Bail risked leaning against Obi-Wan, shoulder to shoulder, and was pleased when the Jedi did not shake him off. He did not press for more, just reveled in their touch as he gazed out into the night.

Obi-Wan worried at his lower lip. "It's hard for me with Anakin." The Prince had no idea how hard, but Obi-Wan wasn't ready to go into that yet. "You were right. I was only a padawan myself, not even a month ago. It's such a big responsibility to take on, even in the best of circumstances."

"And these are not the best of circumstances," Bail quietly observed.

The grief threatened to break through Obi-Wan's shields, but he forced it back down. He wasn't ready for that, either, not by a long shot. "I don't really know what I'm doing."

Bail wanted to reassure him, to tell him that he would be a great master, but he was wary now of making any statement about the Jedi to Obi-Wan. After all, what did he really know about the Master-Padawan bond? Other than the tradition of padawans falling in love with their masters, that is. Idly he wondered if Anakin would one day fall in love with Obi-Wan. Would he never be free of rivals for Obi- Wan's heart? But then, things were over between them, now, and anyway Obi-Wan was never really his to begin with.

Nevertheless, he would support Obi-Wan in any way he could. He thought through several things to say, before venturing, "I may not know much about the Jedi, but certainly Qui-Gon did. He would not have entrusted you with this responsibility if he had not believed you were capable of carrying it out."

Obi-Wan knew what Bail was trying to do, but the problem was he wasn't sure if it was true. Had Qui-Gon truly believed Obi-Wan was the best teacher for Anakin, or had he merely prevailed upon his padawan because he knew Obi-Wan was the only person loyal enough to him to make such a rash promise? Doubts assailed him no matter where he turned, and Qui-Gon was no longer here to advise him. Furthermore, the entire Temple, while tacitly sanctioning the relationship, were suspicious of Anakin and skeptical of Obi-Wan's readiness, Sith killer or no. There was no one to support him or give him advice. No one except Bail, who was not a Jedi, but who had always been there for Obi-Wan, who unlike the rest of the Jedi had welcomed Anakin with open arms and an open heart. That thought worried Obi-Wan as much as it reassured him, but right now it was all he had to go on.

He bent his head, resting it on Bail's shoulder. After a moment, Bail rested his cheek on Obi-Wan's head. Obi-Wan sighed, releasing his anxieties into the Force. If this was all he had to go on, it would have to be enough.

So their lives fell into a routine. Obi-Wan and Anakin spent their days in physical training, meditation, and Force skills. The evenings were traded around among the Organas for academic studies. Bail had been right: Anakin flourished with a non-Jedi approach to the subject matter, listening with rapt attention as Radha, Vilnis, and Bail opened his mind and piqued his natural curiosity with stories, subjects, and points of view he had never heard of before. They even arranged field trips. Bail took him to the government offices and the capitol of Alderaan, introducing him to the planet's most prominent political leaders. Vilnis showed him around the universities and museums, presenting him with the wealth of learning that was now open to him. Radha found a court case for him to follow, taking him through the judicial process and teaching him the basics of law.

Despite the busy schedule, they still had time for fun. Bail and Obi- Wan cautiously worked out a place for the Prince in the Master- Padawan relationship, and the three of them found time in each day just to relax and enjoy each other's company. Anakin got his swimming lessons, which he took to with surprising alacrity considering he had lived his entire life on a desert planet. Bail proved to be a qualified tutor in more than just history and astropolitics. He was able to introduce Anakin to galactic culture, both high and low, in a way that Obi-Wan with his austere Jedi sensibilities could not. Anakin drank it all in eagerly, whether it was modern art, classical music, galactic cuisine, or the latest series of blockbuster Rogue Jedi holovids. Bail was thrilled to have an impressionable young mind to mold, and he and Anakin indeed became brothers in spirit.

As for Obi-Wan and Anakin - after that first night, Anakin continued to sleep with the young knight. The boy turned more and more to Obi- Wan for a sense of security and stability. He loved meditating, kneeling between Obi-Wan's knees, Obi-Wan's arms wrapped securely around him. He was enamored of Obi-Wan's skills and power, reveling in every opportunity to watch Obi-Wan perform katas or other routines. The companionship that grew between them was different than that between Bail and Anakin. It was calmer, formal but comforting. The bond between them grew slowly but steadily. Obi-Wan didn't laugh as often as Anakin would have liked, but he would watch Bail and Anakin's hijinks with a quiet pleasure, and Anakin grew to love him, because that is what a child will do in the face of kindness.

But he still wondered whether Obi-Wan loved him back.

After all, Obi-Wan never spoke of Qui-Gon. In all his lectures on respect, obedience, honor, and duty, he never mentioned love. He never asked Anakin about his mother. Anakin had even picked up on the Prince's hurt at Obi-Wan's lukewarm friendship. Something seemed to be missing between the two older men, a level of affection that Obi-Wan clearly did not demonstrate. Obi-Wan never laughed. He never cried. He never got angry. He never gave himself over to joy. He was always calm, his voice steady, his manner dignified. Anakin knew that he was sad, but the knight refused to acknowledge it, and Anakin found that he could not quite trust someone who never felt any emotion.

Yet this, apparently, was what it meant to be a Jedi. He remembered standing alone in the Council chamber, when Qui-Gon was still alive, the Council members demanding to know his feelings, only to chide him for having them. The only sense he could make of it was that he wasn't supposed to have feelings at all. Certainly all the Jedi he had met so far seemed to exhibit Obi-Wan's emotional reserve.

All except Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon had gotten angry - at the Council members of all people! - when they said Anakin could not be trained. Qui-Gon had felt fear, when the Sith attacked him on Tatooine. He had exhibited impatience with Jar Jar, and a combination of annoyance and admiration with the Queen. He had smiled and laughed. Anakin's heart ached to remember how those little lines would twinkle and dance around Qui-Gon's eyes when he smiled, and the deep rumble of his laugh. And he had loved. Anakin had felt the Master's affection for his mother, and he knew Qui-Gon had loved him as well - wanted to train him not only because of his potential but because he cared about him. And Qui-Gon had definitely loved Obi-Wan. Anakin had seen it in the trust the Master had in his apprentice, had felt it in Qui-Gon's anguish over their arguments. Anakin did not at all understand the dynamics between the two men. Too much had been going on in his own life at the time for him to even begin to try to figure out the nuances between Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon. But as empathic as he was, he had picked up on their emotions, especially Qui-Gon's. And he knew that he had been a major focus of the conflict between the two Jedi. Obi-Wan had not trusted him from the beginning. Obi-Wan had defied Qui-Gon's decisions regarding Anakin. Obi-Wan had been hurt when Qui-Gon vowed to train Anakin, hurt by Qui-Gon and angry at Anakin. In fact Anakin was almost tempted to call it hate. After that horrific moment in the Council chamber Obi-Wan had avoided Anakin as much as possible, never meeting the boy's eyes, only addressing him when necessary. Only once after that had Obi-Wan even looked at him, and that had been when he and Qui-Gon had left Anakin behind in the hangar in Theed, as Qui-Gon had ordered Anakin to stay behind. Obi-Wan had glanced at him then, and Anakin had felt the pulse of smug self-satisfaction, that it was Obi-Wan who belonged at Qui-Gon's side, not Anakin. That was the only time. And Anakin had never seen Qui-Gon again.

Now that he thought about it, Anakin realized that the only time he had ever felt emotion in Obi-Wan had been when Qui-Gon was still alive - and those emotions, overwhelmingly negative, had been directed at him. The Obi-Wan he knew now was a different person entirely, and Anakin could not account for the change, nor could he trust what he could not understand. He needed Obi-Wan because the Jedi was all he had, needed to love him because he had no one else to love. But Obi-Wan did not need him, saw him as a duty, a burden, a responsibility he would attend to, but not a child he would love. And why should he? Anakin had been his replacement.

So this strange relationship grew up between them. Flashes of friendship, as when they joined the Prince swimming in the river. Moments of tenderness, as at night when Anakin lay curled in Obi- Wan's arms. And always the strong serenity of the Master-Padawan relationship. Yet something remained wanting, a connection not made, a bond fierce in its need but fragile in its stability. Anakin concealed his doubts and fears as best he could, but they festered inside him and grew.

One afternoon, Anakin asked if he could fine tune the engine on the Prince's boat. Bail had suggested they take the boat out on the coming weekend, but as it had not been used in some time, it needed some routine maintenance, which Anakin happily offered to see to. So he and Obi-Wan holed up in the boathouse to work. Anakin was pleased to learn that Obi-Wan enjoyed tinkering, though not as much as he did, of course. As they dove into the engine, Anakin wondered aloud, "How fast can the boat go?"

Obi-Wan shot him a warning look. "Don't even think of trying to find out."

Bristling a little, Anakin protested, "I'm a good pilot. I won't wreck it."

"I know that, but the river is not a pod courseway. There is a lot of traffic, and while you may be an excellent pilot, others might not be. If you careen around on the river, someone else might panic and cause an accident. You must obey the traffic laws, including the speed limit."

Anakin chuffed. There were no traffic laws on Tatooine. "I bet Bail likes to race."

"Even so, he obeys the speed limit on the river." Sometimes. He'd have to talk to the Prince about that.

"Well, he sure doesn't take good care of his boat," Anakin said, absently wiping his greasy hands on his shirt, to Obi-Wan's dismay. "The engine's filthy."

"So are you," Obi-Wan observed.

Anakin looked down at his shirt, then smiled up at Obi-Wan. "Oops. Mom is always getting after me about that." Then he realized what he had said, and he froze, choking.

Obi-Wan's own smile faded slightly when he sensed Anakin's distress. The boy had to learn to deal with his loss, just as Obi-Wan had. Obi- Wan allowed compassion to seep into his features, as he said quietly, "I imagine she did."

The warmth in the knight's voice eased Anakin's paralysis, and he felt his breath returning. "Yeah," he said, his voice a little shaky but strong. "I ruined a lot of tunics."

"I'll have to ask the Council to double your clothing allowance, then," Obi-Wan quipped, and the last of Anakin's tension evaporated as he grinned broadly. "In the meantime, I would greatly appreciate it if you wiped your hands on a rag instead of your shirt."

"Sure thing!' Anakin agreed. As he immersed himself once more in the engine, he asked, "So is there any place on the river where they don't have a speed limit?"

"Not as far as you're concerned."

Anakin swallowed his complaint. After all, the boat wasn't Obi-Wan's anyway. It belonged to the Prince, who would hopefully share Anakin's philosophy on the matter. No point in pursuing it further right now. "I bet I can up the engine's efficiency, " he offered. Not to mention the power. "Is there a set of hydrospanners somewhere?"

His hands buried elbow deep in the boat's innards, Obi-Wan nodded his head toward a cabinet on the far wall. "Over there."

Ha! Once the Prince learned what Anakin did to the engine, he would surely want to test it himself. Anakin scampered along the deck to the cabinet.

"Don't run, Anakin. The deckboards are wet."

Ignoring him, Anakin climbed up onto the workbench and took down the box of hydrospanners. He opened the box and gave an appreciative whistle. "Sennika brand! These are the best!" Far better than the poorly made tools he'd had access to at Watto's.

"And very expensive," came Obi-Wan's warning, practical as always. "Be careful with them."

Anakin reverently picked up one of the spanners, inspecting the handiwork. He never dreamed he would ever be able to work with Sennika tools. Why, one of these hydrospanners alone could cost upward of 300 credits, and Bail had an entire set of them. Anakin smiled, covetously wishing he could be rich enough to afford tools like these.

He replaced the spanner in the box but left the lid open so he could look at the tools as he dashed back to the boat, eager to use them.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan warned, "I told you not to run."

"I won't drop them!" Anakin protested, but even as the words left his mouth, his foot slipped on the wet deck and he fell sprawling full length, his chin banging sharply on the boards as the tool box flew out of his grasp, skittering across the deck and tumbling over the edge, the hydrospanners flashing as they fell into the river.

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan shouted, and the boy flinched, horrified at what he had done.

Obi-Wan was running toward him, and Anakin knelt up, desperately trying to shield himself from the blow he knew was coming. "Don't, please!" he begged as Obi-Wan reached for him. "I'm sorry! Please don't hit me!" He cowered, throwing his arms up to protect his head. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Obi-Wan knelt in front of the boy, his stomach churning at Anakin's fear. The boy expected to be beaten. The thought sickened Obi-Wan as he realized Anakin must be used to it. Of course he was, he had been a slave. Obi-Wan knew that, and yet he had never seen the boy in that light before. Hot, blinding rage surged through him. How dare anyone beat this child! What kind of a galaxy was it where any child could know such fear? And who were the Jedi to preach against fear in such a galaxy?

Obi-Wan reached out toward Anakin, but the boy only shrank back from him, arms raised to ward him off, and Obi-Wan realized Anakin could feel his anger, thought it was directed at him. Abruptly the anger left him, to be replaced with a cold nausea. Anakin feared him, thought that Obi-Wan was capable of hitting him. Obi-Wan struggled not to vomit, struggled not to cry as Anakin wept and cowered before him. Helplessly he raised his hands, slowly reaching for the boy but not touching him. "Anakin," he called, his voice soft and gentle, soothing. "Anakin, it's all right. Listen to me." He projected calm through the Force, speaking to Anakin as if trying to soothe a wild animal, and slowly the boy's sobbing subsided, his arms lowering, though he was still wary.

"Anakin, listen to me," Obi-Wan intoned. When he knew the boy would not flinch, he carefully placed his hands on either side of Anakin's head, holding him in a gentle grasp. "I will never strike you in anger, Anakin. I will never beat you. Never." Anakin's tear-filled eyes gazed up at him, still not entirely trusting. "I will never beat you," Obi-Wan repeated. "You are my padawan."

"But the tools...."

"They are just things, Anakin. They can be replaced. You are worth far more than they."

Wrong choice of words. Anakin pulled away from him again, knowing exactly how much he was worth: the price of one podracer. Obi-Wan could almost hear the thought in his head, and he said, "No, Padawan. You are worth my life."

Hopelessly, helplessly, Anakin looked up at him again, and Obi-Wan's heart broke to see such pain and desperation in those sky-blue eyes. How could he ever heal the wounds in this boy's soul? How could such a scarred child ever become a Jedi? He had no idea, but right now he didn't care. Right now all he wanted to do was make sure he never saw such an expression in Anakin's eyes again. He opened his arms to the boy. "Padawan," he called, and Anakin leaped into his embrace, his small arms squeezing tightly around Obi-Wan's neck, as if clinging to life itself, his thin body trembling. Obi-Wan rocked and soothed him, rubbing his back and whispering reassurances to him.

Gradually the tension in Anakin's body eased, and he mumbled into Obi- Wan's shoulder, "But the tools."

"They haven't gone anywhere," Obi-Wan pointed out. "They're at the bottom of the river. Look at it this way: you get to practice your diving. Now," he gently pulled himself free of the boy's embrace, "let me look at you. You're injured."

Stunned to know that Obi-Wan cared more about his welfare than the fate of the expensive tools, Anakin submitted to Obi-Wan's inspection. His elbows and knees were scraped, and a gash has split open his chin. He was bleeding, but he hadn't known it, hadn't even felt his injuries.

"Let's get you into the house and patch you up," Obi-Wan advised.

"But the tools-"

"We'll get them later. You first, Padawan."

Padawan. Obi-Wan had never called him that before, and now despite what he had done, Obi-Wan called him Padawan not once but three times. A tiny, tentative smile made its way onto the boy's lips. Obi-Wan saw it and knew what it meant, knew what he had called Anakin, too -- called him without thinking, as if it were natural, and in response he did something completely unexpected that surprised him as much as it surprised Anakin. He leaned over and kissed the boy's forehead.

As he sat back on his heels, somewhat embarrassed by his display of affection, an enormous smile broke forth on Anakin's face, peaceful, happy. To cover for them both, Obi-Wan said, "I hope next time when I tell you not to run, you'll heed me." He stood up, offering his padawan his hand.

Anakin placed his small hand in Obi-Wan's large one, letting the Jedi pull him to his feet. Still smiling, he replied without thinking, as if it were natural, "Yes, Master."

Anakin was able to retrieve all but one of the hydrospanners. Obi- Wan had been right: Anakin actually enjoyed the diving exercise, and he was so happy about Obi-Wan's affirmation of him that he scarcely worried about how the Prince would react when he found out what had happened to his tools.

When Bail returned home that evening, Anakin dutifully apologized to him in proper Jedi fashion, having been drilled by Obi-Wan in how to do it. Normally Anakin would have found the ritual silly, but after all, the tools were very, very important and deserved such solemn treatment. Bail had some experience with ritual Jedi apologies, so he knew exactly what to do. He even had the perfect punishment in mind.

"Since I'll have to replace that hydrospanner, perhaps you can pay for it in kind. I think you should give my speeder a tune-up."

Anakin's face lit up. "Yes, sir!"

"Only your speeder?" Obi-Wan asked, looked at Bail over Anakin's head. "It was a very expensive tool."

"You're right." Bail put on a show of calculating the worth of the hydrospanner in labor hours. "Perhaps you should tend to my skyhopper and my swoop bikes as well."

"Sure thing, manu-bai. When I'm done with them, they'll be better than new!" Anakin gushed. He threw his arms around Bail's waist in a quick hug, then ran off to get to work. May all his punishments be this fun!

"I hope he destroys more of my tools," Bail quipped. "I'll never have to hire another mechanic for the rest of my life."

"Don't encourage him," Obi-Wan cautioned.

Anakin did enjoy the work, but the incident got him thinking. The Prince sure had an awful lot of vehicles. He lived in an enormous house and owned some very expensive tools. Anakin began to add it all up, and the total came to a very big price tag. That could only mean one thing: the Prince was rich. Richer than Watto. Probably as rich as the Hutts. Maybe even richer. Anyone who owned that many vehicles could probably afford a podracer.

Or something that cost the equivalent of a podracer.

And the Prince was likely to be sympathetic to his cause. While the Jedi were well off by Anakin's standards, he knew they weren't rich enough to buy slaves, and they certainly weren't sympathetic to the whole notion of family. But Bail had parents. He would understand. Maybe....

Anakin kept alert for a time when he could catch the Prince alone. The opportunity presented itself one evening when Obi-Wan was making one of his weekly calls to the Temple on Coruscant to report on their progress, and Anakin wasted no time. Tugging on Bail's pants leg, he asked, "Can I talk to you, manu-bai?"

"Certainly," Bail replied. He knelt down to face the boy, noting his serious expression, and sobered. "This looks important."

"It is."

"Something Obi-Wan shouldn't know about."

Anakin froze. That didn't sound good at all. He would prefer to leave Obi-Wan out of it entirely, but he didn't want Bail to think he was trying to go behind his master's back. "It isn't anything bad."

"Just the kind of thing you can't talk to a Jedi about." Anakin nodded gratefully, and Bail smiled in sympathy. "I know exactly what you mean." He stood up. "Let's go to my room. We can talk privately."

When they were safely alone, Anakin blurted out, "Are you rich?" He knew Obi-Wan would say it wasn't polite, but he had to know, and he didn't know how else to ask.

Bail blinked in surprise, taken aback. "Well... yes, I suppose I am."

"I was wondering if you could lend me some money."

Oh, dear. What was the boy up to? "How much?"

Anakin hesitated. They used different money here, and he had no idea how much it would cost. "A lot," he confessed. "I don't know for sure. Like maybe...300,000 wupiui."

Bail had never heard of that currency before. For all he knew, it was the equivalent of fifty dataries. Somehow, however, he doubted it. "That sounds like a lot of money."

"I would pay you back," Anakin offered eagerly. "I can work it off. I'm really good at fixing things, and I can work really hard. Watto always said I was worth a slave twice my age!"

"Whoa, whoa," Bail hastily stopped him. This talk of slavery worried him. "What do you need the money for?" he asked, although he was beginning to have an idea.

Anakin looked up with an expression on his face far too resolved for someone so young. "I need to buy my mom."

"Oh, Anakin," Bail sighed, kneeling to the boy's eye level. "This won't be easy to understand. Slavery is illegal in the Republic."

"I know. I want to buy her so I can free her."

"But it isn't that simple. In order to have good relations with worlds that exist outside the Republic, we have to follow their laws. That means representatives of the Republic cannot legally interfere with...." He paused. Force, this was hard. "With the...legal trade of slavery on non-Republic worlds, even for the purposes of freeing people. If Republic representatives bought slaves on non-Republic worlds and then freed them, those worlds would not want to have anything to do with the Republic." Or so the logic went. "That means that as a senator, it is illegal for me to do anything to help free slaves. It is illegal for Obi-Wan as a Jedi. And since you're a Jedi now, I'm afraid it is illegal for you as well. If you tried to free her, you would go to prison for a very long time."

Anakin took a moment to process this, his mind working furiously. "But Qui-Gon freed me. Why can't I free my mom?"

Bail shook his head. "I'm not quite sure how he managed to get away with it. And he might not have gotten away with it if he had lived." Bail could scarcely believe the story Obi-Wan had told him about how Qui-Gon had won Anakin's freedom. He suspected the Jedi Master had pulled it off because gambling was involved. For once he had to agree with Obi-Wan. It was the stupidest thing he had ever heard of anyone doing.

Anakin continued to ponder his options, weighing different possibilities. "I don't mind going to prison if it means my mom is free."

"They wouldn't let her stay free. They would send her back. I'm so sorry, Anakin."

The boy's eyes filled with tears, and he scowled to keep from crying. "That just doesn't seem right."

"It isn't."

"You're a senator. Can't you change the laws?"

"It isn't that easy. There are very powerful forces who want to keep things the way they are." He sighed in frustration. "It's all about economics. Even our anti-slavery laws are more about protecting labor rights than they are about protecting people."

"But it's wrong!"

"I know."

Anakin's eyes hardened. "Then why don't you do something about it?"

"Even in the Republic there are many things that are wrong, and not even the Jedi can fix them."

Anakin looked away, fists clenching at his sides. He refused to believe it. The Prince might be too afraid to do anything about it, but Anakin was not. Someday he would change things. He would free his mom. He didn't care what it cost him.

Bail watched the boy carefully. There was no way he could explain such a travesty of justice to a nine-year-old boy, especially when he didn't believe it himself. His heart ached with his own powerlessness. Sometimes he hated being a senator in such a corrupt government. "I'll ask my mother if she knows of any legal precedents that can help you," he offered, though he doubted she would find any. The law was all too clear on this point.

Anakin practiced releasing his anger, the way Obi-Wan had been teaching him. But he didn't release it into the Force. He stored it up in a safe place in his heart. He had a feeling that someday he would have need of it. Until then he would just have to be patient. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Bail sat back on his heels, immanently dissatisfied that he couldn't offer the boy more. But there was one thing he could offer, something Obi-Wan, who never had a mother, would never think of. "Why don't you tell me about her?" he said.

Anakin looked up gratefully. No one at the Temple wanted to hear about her. "Is it all right?"

"Of course it's all right," Bail said, folding his legs under him and indicating for Anakin to sit in his lap. "So tell me everything. I bet she's wonderful."

Anakin smiled, climbing into his big brother's lap. "She is," he affirmed. "She's the best mom in the whole galaxy...."

They talked for a good, long time, swapping mom stories and sharing their experiences as only sons. Bail discovered that Anakin had never had a father, and Anakin learned that Mimi was Bail's step. Oddly enough, considering what little connection Obi-Wan had to his own family, it had always bothered him that Radha was not Bail's birth mother, but Anakin accepted it without question. Among slaves, family was constantly shifting. What mattered most was loyalty and love.

"Did Obi-Wan ever meet your mother?" Bail asked.

"No, he stayed on the ship the whole time. Qui-Gon met her. He liked her, and my mom wouldn't have let me go with him if she didn't trust him." Anakin paused. They had come round to another topic he wasn't comfortable discussing with Obi-Wan. But Bail had proved very sympathetic. "I miss him," he confessed.

"Did you know him so well?"

"Yeah. He was great. I think he was the best Jedi that ever lived. He was my master first, you know. Before Obi-Wan was."

Bail's brow furrowed. This was news to him, and it didn't fit with what he knew of Jedi tradition. "Your master?" he asked in confusion.

"Yeah." Anakin hesitated, then said, "Obi-Wan didn't like me at first because of that. He didn't want Qui-Gon to be my master."

Carefully, Bail observed, "Usually a master has only one apprentice at a time."

"I know. I think that's why they were all so mad at him when he said he was gonna be my master."

"They?"

"The Council. And Obi-Wan was really mad, but I guess he got over it. But sometimes I wonder...."

"Wonder what?"

Anakin shifted uncomfortably. "If he still hates me."

Bail was at a complete loss. None of this story made any sense. The boy must be confused. However, Bail could reassure him, "I know he doesn't hate you."

"I hope not," Anakin said, though he didn't look convinced. "But he did at first."

"Well...sometimes we have to get to know a person first. For that matter, he wasn't too crazy about me at first, either, but now we're the best of friends."

"Why didn't he like you?" Anakin wanted to know.

No need to go into that! "It's a long story. Anyway, he likes me well enough now, and I know he likes you, as do I."

"I like you, too," Anakin smiled.

"Good. Then it's all settled."

But Bail did not forget their conversation, or the many questions it raised.

That night after Anakin had gone to bed, Obi-Wan joined Bail in the Prince's room. It had become their new ritual to spend the last hours of the evening together, reviewing Anakin's progress, discussing the current state of the Republic, while sitting by the fireplace, sipping on steaming mugs of choli, a spicy Alderaani drink. No sex, but Bail didn't expect it any more. He found it ironic that he had been replaced in Obi-Wan's bed by a nine-year- old. Ironic, but also kind of cute. He had made his peace with the change in their relationship, and he was just grateful they could still be friends.

Bail elected not to tell Obi-Wan about Anakin's request to borrow money to free his mother. The boy had come to him in confidence, and he saw no reason to violate that trust. But he was still curious about what Anakin had said about Qui-Gon. "You might want to review basic Jedi practices with Anakin," he suggested. "He seems to be confused about the whole Master-Apprentice thing."

Obi-Wan looked at him in concern. "What do you mean?"

"He thinks Qui-Gon was his master. I suppose it doesn't really matter, except that he has the idea that you were angry at him at one point because of it."

Obi-Wan froze, and he felt the same stab of shock and despair he'd felt in the Council chamber when Qui-Gon had made that awful announcement, the same sick feeling of betrayal.

When Obi-Wan's silence continued, Bail frowned in confusion. "I thought you were knighted after the duel? How could Qui-Gon have taken Anakin as his padawan before that?"

How? How indeed? "By renouncing his current one." The words caught in his chest, tearing at his throat. "He renounced me." His hands shook so hard he almost dropped his mug. He carefully set it down on a table, the drink spilling, but Bail seemed not to have noticed the mess. He was staring at Obi-Wan, aghast at what he had said.

Obi-Wan struggled to gather up his shattered thoughts. What had Qui-Gon said? No, that hadn't been right. "He didn't renounce me," he amended, his voice shaking with the strain of remaining under control. "He said I was ready for the trials."

Vaguely Obi-Wan was aware that Bail was shaking his head. "I don't understand," the Prince said, his voice sounding very far away. "Was this before or after that duel?"

"Be-fore," Obi-Wan said. He had to enunciate very carefully. His mouth didn't seem to be working properly. What was wrong with him? Why were his hands shaking? "It was the boy," he said, his words slow and deliberate, requiring concentration. "He wanted Anakin to be trained. But the Council refused, and Qui-Gon said he would train him. They...they had to remind him. About me. He had forgotten. About me. He said I was ready for the trials." But Qui-Gon hadn't really meant it, had he? It was just a convenient excuse, a way to cover for the fact that he had forgotten he already had a padawan.

He had forgotten about Obi-Wan.

"I can't believe it," Bail was saying.

"Believe it?" Obi-Wan echoed. "All he cared about was Anakin. The highest midichlorian count ever, the Chosen One," he spat, his anger propelling him to his feet. He paced back and forth before the fireplace, prowling, wanting to seize something and smash it, tear it apart. "He died! He died in my arms, and all he talked about was the boy! 'Train him,' he said. 'Train him; he's the chosen one.' But what about me? He never chose me! He never wanted me!"

"Obi-Wan," Bail started to contradict, but Obi-Wan turned haunted, burning eyes on him, and the words of comfort died in his throat.

"He rejected me," Obi-Wan said. "From the beginning. Said there was too much anger in me." And he had been right, hadn't he? A lifetime of anger erupted in Obi-Wan with the fury of a volcano. "He was my last chance. I was sent to the Agricorps. I had to threaten to blow myself up before he would take me as his padawan." Bail had never heard this story. Obi-Wan had never told him. "Over and over I had to prove myself to him. I was never good enough. He just took pity on me, waiting until a more promising student came along, and then he forgot about me. I was standing right next to him, and he didn't even know I was there!"

Hot, seething rage, with an intensity Obi-Wan had never known, boiled inside him, fighting for release. "I hate him!" he ground out. "I hate him! I'm glad he's dead!"

No! No, he hadn't just said that! He wanted desperately to call the words back, to deny them, but they had escaped to hang in the air like a curse. Oh, Force, what had he done? Had he caused his master's death? He clutched at his hair in agony, tears burning down his cheeks.

"I know you don't mean that," came Bail's voice again. It was so very far away.

Oh, but he did mean it, foul, vile creature that he was. "Why couldn't I be his chosen one?" he wept. "I loved him. I'd have given my life for him. I saw that Sith cut him down, and I wished it were me instead." If he had died, Qui-Gon could have trained his chosen one, and Obi-Wan could have escaped this awful shame, this soul-crushing betrayal.

"No, no," a gentle voice soothed, fingers covering his, coaxing loose his grip. "Qui-Gon would not have wanted that."

"It would have been better!"

"No," Bail said again, cradling Obi-Wan in his arms, aching to comfort him, to erase all this doubt and fear. How could Qui-Gon have done this to his apprentice? Bail knew probably better than anyone how much Obi-Wan had loved his master, how devoted he was. Bail wanted desperately to hate Qui-Gon, to defend Obi-Wan against this vicious man who had savaged his soul, but he knew he could not. Obi-Wan would be destroyed. Obi-Wan loved Qui-Gon too much. His faith in Qui-Gon needed to be restored, and with it, his faith in himself.

"Maybe you're looking at it the wrong way," Bail suggested.

Obi-Wan snarled, "What wrong way?"

"Qui-Gon could never have forgotten you. You were so much a part of him that...that he didn't even think of you as a separate person. You were more than his apprentice. You were his partner."

Obi-Wan pulled away, his expression disbelieving, but Bail could see a glimmer of desperate hope in his eyes. "How would you know?" Obi- Wan asked. "You barely knew him."

"I lived with you at the Temple for a month," Bail reminded him. "I knew him then. I saw how much you meant to him, how proud of you he was."

"No," Obi-Wan said, but his protest was feeble.

Bail led Obi-Wan back to the couch, sitting them both down while his mind worked furiously, thinking through a way to redeem Qui-Gon's memory. "Didn't his previous apprentice turn?" he asked.

"Xanatos."

"He was wounded from that," Bail suggested. Yes, this would work. Thinking aloud, he said, "He didn't want another padawan. But then you came along. He was afraid he would be hurt again, so he held back, but everything he saw in you gave him hope. You gave him the courage to overcome his previous experience."

Obi-Wan frowned, but he was listening.

"Maybe...maybe that's why it was so easy for him to take on Anakin," Bail speculated, "another boy for whom Qui-Gon was the last hope. He looked at Anakin and he saw you again, the boy he had rejected once. You had healed him, and because of that he was able to reach out to Anakin." He paused, gauging Obi-Wan's reaction. The knight remained silent, so Bail continued, "Don't you see? His rejection before had nothing to do with you; it was about Xanatos. But his ready acceptance of Anakin had everything to do with you. You had healed him, and he loved you, and that gave him the strength to reach out to a lonely, friendless child. And when he died, Anakin was his gift to you, to love as he had loved you."

A detached part of Bail's mind reflected that in all his years of political spin-doctoring he had probably never given such a convincing speech on a topic he knew nothing about. Was there any truth at all in what he said? There had to be, if not in Qui-Gon's reality, then in Bail's. From that perspective it was gospel truth.

Obi-Wan said nothing, his breathing ragged but even, his face buried in Bail's lap as the Prince gently stroked his hair. Obi-Wan had calmed down, but he was still tense, waiting - waiting for the words he would never hear, from a voice that had been forever silenced.

But Bail could give this to him. He closed his eyes, resting his cheek on the top of O's head. "He loved you so much," he said. I love you so much. He could put these words into Qui-Gon's mouth. His own feelings could be Qui-Gon's final blessing. "I didn't know him well, but I knew that much," he continued. "I know exactly what he would say if he were here. 'I am so proud of you, Padawan. I am always a part of you. I never meant to hurt you.'"

"Oh, Master," Obi-Wan moaned.

"Tell him what you want him to know," Bail urged. "He's part of the Force now, and the Force is all around us, isn't it? That means he's here right now, right in this room. He'll hear."

Obi-Wan clutched at Bail's robe, his knuckles white with the strain. "I - I...."

"He's here now, listening," Bail pressed. "Tell him."

"Master--," Obi-Wan choked, his fists twisting in Bail's robe. "Master...."

"He's listening."

"I'm sorry!" Obi-Wan blurted out. "I'm so sorry. I failed you."

Bail screwed his eyes shut, forcing himself not to tense up. Damn Qui-Gon Jinn! Bail hoped that wherever the Jedi Master was, he was roasting in torment, the miserable, selfish bastard. How dare he do this to Obi-Wan? How dare he make his padawan suffer so? "You never failed him." Speak for him. Put the right words in Qui-Gon's mouth. "'You never failed me, Padawan. You are the pride of my life. I never had to choose you, Obi-Wan. You were chosen for me, and I am so grateful.'"

Obi-Wan's arms tightened around Bail's waist, clinging, reaching through him to the man on the other side. "Master," he sighed.

"'I'm here. I'm always with you.'"

A very long silence, pregnant with hope, with longing. At last Obi- Wan spoke, a whisper so quiet Bail almost didn't hear it. "I love you, Qui-Gon."

Oh, it hurt. It hurt so much. How much of this pain was Bail's and how much Obi-Wan's? And how much of it might be Qui-Gon's? But this had always been Bail's destiny: to stand in for the love Qui-Gon should have felt for Obi-Wan. So he spoke one final time for Qui- Gon, one final time for himself. "'I love you too, Obi-Wan.'"

Obi-Wan shuddered, releasing a long, shaking breath, then he grew still, his grip on Bail relaxing. He had heard what he needed so desperately to hear.

Was it the truth or was it a lie? Did it really matter, so long as it eased Obi-Wan's anguish? Well, Bail was not a Jedi, he was a politician. He knew that words shape reality, that what we believe is the most important truth of all. He prayed that Obi-Wan would believe this was what Qui-Gon would have said. As for himself, he had to believe it, too.

Even though it broke his heart.

Obi-Wan slept well that night. His dreams were not troubled with nightmares. His sense of calm was so great even Anakin slept well, and both of them woke the next morning with a contentment they had begun to think they would never feel again. As had become their custom, they dressed in silence, went through the morning kata, or as much of it as Anakin had learned, then settled down for a half-hour meditation before heading down for breakfast. They did not speak a word. It was the one time of day when Anakin held his tongue, and he did so not because Obi-Wan expected him to, but because he liked it. To wake up each morning to a fresh day, a day not of drudgery and fear but of learning and excitement, was an exquisite luxury Anakin had never before known. It was like waking up only to find yourself in a wonderful dream where the sunlight was bright but not harsh, where you could eat until your belly was full, and no one ever beat you, where your master's sole purpose was to give you your heart's desire. The mornings were sacred, and Anakin didn't want to break their spell by talking.

That morning held a special grace. If Anakin hadn't known better, he might have said Obi-Wan seemed genuinely happy. As they walked down to breakfast, he didn't just smile at Anakin, he actually grinned, ruffling Anakin's hair. The boy hardly knew what to make of it.

At the breakfast table, Anakin warmly greeted the Organas, giving Mimi a kiss. On Tatooine he had begun to think he was too old to kiss his mother, but now that he was no longer with her, he thought it hadn't been such a babyish thing after all, so he made up for it by kissing Mimi.

"What's on the agenda for today?" Bail asked. Anakin knew he could count on his big brother to get away with the things he himself could not. Between the two of them they could pretty much have their way with Obi-Wan.

"Actually, Anakin has been working so hard, I thought we might make today a little holiday." Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow at Bail. "I don't suppose you could take the day off?" Anakin beamed expectantly at the Prince.

"Well," Bail hastily thought through his schedule for the day. It wasn't often that Obi-Wan asked him to be naughty. This must be his reward for the previous night. "When a Jedi Knight asks me to play hooky, how can I refuse?"

"Wizard!" Anakin crowed. "So what are we gonna do?"

"What would you like to do?" Obi-Wan returned.

"Let's go swimming!"

"We do that every day. Can't you think of something special?"

Anakin thought for a minute. He really had no idea what people did with free time, having never had any himself. He could only think of one thing, and while he was sure Obi-Wan would refuse, after all he had asked. "I don't suppose there are any pod races on Alderaan?"

Bail shook his head, grinning. "I'm afraid not. But how about the amusement park?"

"What's that?"

"It has all kinds of rides. It's hardly podracing, but it's a lot of fun."

That might not be too bad. "Can I pilot?"

"They aren't that kind of ride," Obi-Wan explained. "No one pilots. You just...ride."

Anakin frowned in confusion. What kind of vehicle had no pilot?

"How about the botanical gardens?" Obi-Wan suggested.

"Honestly, Ben," Bail scoffed. "Nine-year-olds don't want to go to the botanical gardens."

Vilnis interjected, "You loved the gardens when you were young."

"That's because Veena taught me which flowers were edible."

Anakin's ears perked up at that. Edible flowers? What exactly were these gardens all about, and why couldn't these grown-ups let him decide for himself? "What's a - patonical garden?"

"Botanical," Obi-Wan corrected. "It means plants. A zoological garden displays many different kinds of animals, and a botanical garden does the same with plants."

"Then why don't they call it a platonical garden?"

Bail chortled. "That means something else entirely."

"What?"

"Platonic, it means...." It means what Obi-Wan and I are now, Bail thought ruefully. "It means friendship." And maybe that wasn't really so bad.

Softly, Obi-Wan added, "Qui-Gon loved Alderaan's botanical gardens. He always visited them whenever he came here."

Anakin absorbed this revelation in silence, studying Obi-Wan almost wistfully. At last he decided, "I'd like to go there. To the...." He licked his lips. He would get it right this time. "The blatonic..."

"Botanical," Obi-Wan offered.

"Yeah, that."

With the matter decided, they were soon off to the gardens. It turned out Bail had been quite mistaken. Anakin loved the gardens, and was equally enamored of trees, shrubs, flowers, and even grass. He wanted to dive right into the water pond to look for fish amid the lily pads. He wanted to climb each new tree. He begged to feed flies to the carnivorous plants, but to no avail. He stuck his nose into each flower, savoring their fragrances and stroking their silky petals, fingering the serrated leaves, carefully poking thorns. Obi- Wan managed to turn the visit into a lesson, explaining the basics of botany and plant reproduction to Anakin, who found it fascinating that many plants came in boy and girl varieties. Bail proved to be educational as well, surreptitiously plucking off blossoms and feeding them to Anakin behind Obi-Wan's back. Eventually Obi-Wan caught them munching on some peppery flowers.

"You should not be eating the plants," Obi-Wan scolded.

"Why not?" Bail countered. "They're healthful and nutritious. You should be pleased he's so eager to eat his vegetables."

"That's not the point."

"What if Anakin gets stranded on some jungle planet? I'm teaching him which plants he can eat for survival." Anakin nodded vigorously in agreement.

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow at the Prince. "If that were truly your purpose, you could merely point them out."

"But hands-on learning is so much more effective."

"And what if everyone who came to the gardens ate the plants? There'd be nothing left."

"Well, not everyone does it. They let me get away with it because I'm a prince of the royal house. There have to be some perks with the title."

Obi-Wan failed to be convinced, regarding Bail with a disapproving eye.

Bail sighed, conceding defeat. "Right. Anakin, this is one of those times when you should listen to your Master and not to me." Anakin snickered.

"Correction," Obi-Wan interjected, looking at his padawan. "You should always listen to me."

"That's what I meant," Bail said.

"No more eating the plants," Obi-Wan ordered.

Anakin beamed up at him. "Yes, sir!" But as Obi-Wan turned away, Bail gave the boy a conspiratorial wink.

With the matter settled, they continued their exploration of the gardens. Each of them had a different favorite. Bail liked ivy and vines, any kind of plant that could grow up over bowers or trellises. He loved walking beneath, saying it make him feel like an ant. Obi-Wan loved the flowers, the bigger and flashier the blossoms, the better. His favorite was a plant that produced flowers the span of both his hands in brilliant shades of red and orange.

But Anakin liked the grass best. On Tatooine, the ground was nothing but rock and sand. What plants there were grew wild in small clumps, or else were cultivated in pots and containers. The idea that grass could grow in such profusion as to cover the ground like a carpet amazed him. He loved to run across it in his bare feet, to roll in it and cover himself with its sweet, green fragrance. There was a low hill in the middle of the gardens, and the three of them amused themselves rolling down it, Anakin showing off his new gymnastic skills, Bail doing somersaults and cartwheels, and Obi-Wan, with not too much coaxing, indulging in handstands and acrobatic leaps. They rolled and tumbled and ran until they were covered with green stains, their clothes messed, their hair laced with stray bits of grass.

They rolled finally all the way across the lawn until they came to a field of flowers, where they stopped lest they crush the blossoms. As they lay panting in the grass, Obi-Wan reached out and gently fingered one, a tiny, bell-shaped blossom of pale violet. "This was Qui-Gon's favorite," he said quietly.

Anakin immediately fell silent, his gaze riveted on Obi-Wan. "What's it called?"

"Morning bell," Obi-Wan supplied. He leaned forward, breathing in the flower's perfume. "It has a very delicate scent."

Anakin and Bail mimicked him, sniffing the flowers. "It's really nice," Anakin sighed. He studied the flower, his brow furrowed in thought. "I've seen this one before, in the Temple gardens."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Qui-Gon planted them, much to the dismay of the Garden Master."

"Doesn't the Garden Master like them?"

"They're wildflowers," Obi-Wan explained, "what some people would call weeds. The Garden Master feared they would take over the gardens, but Qui-Gon kept planting them anyway, and finally the Garden Master permitted them to grow in one corner." Obi-Wan's gaze returned to the flowers, his expression soft and tender. "Qui-Gon loved wildflowers best. He said they were flowers the way nature intended them, and not perverted to suit the tastes of sentient beings." He gently stroked the slender stem, his gaze far away. "Wildflowers suited his temperament. Wild and untamed and independent. He was just like them."

Anakin studied Obi-Wan closely, filled with longing. He wanted to hear more about Qui-Gon, wanted Obi-Wan to keep talking, to tell stories about the man Anakin had known for far too brief a time. Maybe he wouldn't have to forget Qui-Gon after all. "I miss him," Anakin said plaintively.

Obi-Wan looked up at him, as if seeing the boy for the first time. "So do I."

It was the confession Anakin needed most to hear. With a sob, he threw himself into Obi-Wan's arms, and as Obi-Wan embraced the trembling boy, he finally permitted himself the luxury of tears. They wrapped themselves in each other, bound together in their common grief.

Bail sat to the side, his eyes dry. He could mourn Qui-Gon's passing, but he didn't truly grieve the man. He hadn't known him well enough. He could empathize with Obi-Wan and Anakin in their loss, but he didn't share it. He was glad the two of them had each other, glad they had come together. Things were as they were meant to be.

His own grief was that their new bond seemed to have no room for him.

Bail moved away to give them privacy, lying down on his back in the grass, staring up at the sky and remembering the first time Obi-Wan had come to Alderaan. One afternoon they had lain together in the grass, and that had led to...well, in a way it had led them to where they were here and now. Closing his eyes, he could almost feel Obi- Wan touching him again, fiery lips and warm hands against his cool skin. Bail shuddered again in delicious memory, then opened his eyes, looking at the bright clouds overhead. How long ago had that been? Five years? That was plenty long enough. More than enough, really.

He watched the clouds as they skittered across the sky. There was nothing before him but open, endless expanse. A bright curtain of blue, behind which hid an infinite number of stars and worlds and people, many of them with far more troubles than Bail. He was blessed, and he knew it. A loving family, an endless parade of friends from all walks of life, meaningful work that he enjoyed, a homeworld he adored. Obi-Wan, like a shining gem in his life. And now Anakin, the little brother he had always wanted. He was wealthy in all the ways that truly mattered. He was happy, even now. Everything was fine. More than fine, it was good.

He lay in the grass for a timeless eternity, feeling his happiness, and his grief, too. Look at the sky, watch the clouds. Breathe out the sadness, breathe in joy, a variation of the meditation Obi-Wan had once taught him. Let it go. We cannot hold on to anything. We must open our hands. Only then can we receive what life gives us. He spread his hands out on the grass, palm up. If he fell, he fell. If he caught something, he would be ready. The sky above him was clear and bright, like a smile, full of promise.

Without warning a little bundle wrapped in beige leaped on his stomach, forcing the air out of his lungs with a loud, "Oof!"

"Are you asleep, manu-bai?" Anakin asked, his tears dried and all but forgotten.

"I was," Bail wheezed. "Then you fell out of the sky."

Another face appeared within Bail's circle of vision. "Have a care, Anakin," Obi-Wan scolded. "Don't hurt him."

Anakin lay across Bail, elbows digging into his chest. "Did I hurt you?"

"Let's just say it's a good thing I haven't eaten lunch yet."

"Oh, sorry," Anakin offered. "So - are we gonna eat lunch now?"

Bail laughed, sitting up and gathering the boy into a tight hug. "Anywhere you want to go, ti-bai!"

Anakin happily returned the hug, wrapping his arms around Bail's neck. He was still enough affected by his earlier bout of emotion to welcome Bail's display of affection. "You pick someplace. You always pick good stuff."

Bail hesitated. He could suggest something, but it would just be a place to eat. Why not give it meaning? Why not make it into a way to remember the man both Obi-Wan and Anakin missed so much? Neither of them would suggest it on their own, but Bail could suggest it for them. It was a small sacrifice for him to make, and by now he was getting good at it.

He glanced up at Obi-Wan. "How about we find something that Qui-Gon would have liked?" Anything for you, my Bendu. I'll give you anything you ever ask, no matter what it costs me.

"An excellent idea," Obi-Wan answered with a smile, and his pleasure at the suggestion warmed Bail's heart. "I know just the place."

He took them to a small café fronting one of the canals, where they found a table next to the water. Anakin leaned on the back of his chair watching for silver fish, prompting Obi-Wan to keep a close eye on him lest he tip over and fall in. With a lacy canopy of trees for shade and a cool breeze coming from the river, it was an ideal dining spot. Obi-Wan told stories about the times he and Qui-Gon had dined at this same café, on those rare occasions when they had visited Alderaan together. Anakin piped up with tales of Qui-Gon's brief stay on Tatooine, how he had run circles around Watto, charmed his mother and amazed all his friends. He also recounted the Master's battle on Tatooine with the Sith, with rather too much zeal for Obi- Wan's taste, reminding him of the latter duel, but he permitted Anakin his hero-worship of Qui-Gon. It eased his soul to hear his Master raved about with such enthusiasm. Even Bail shared his few tales of Qui-Gon, though in five years of acquaintance he scarcely knew the Master better than Anakin did.

In the afternoon they returned home to swim, thereby rounding out what Anakin would consider a perfect day. They kept him in the river long enough to wear him out thoroughly, so by dinnertime he could scarcely stay awake long enough to tell Papa Vil and Mimi all about his holiday.

"Did you enjoy the gardens?" Mimi asked.

"It was rugged!" Anakin gushed, his enthusiasm temporarily overriding his sleepiness. "So many plants. I never saw so many kinds in my life! I liked those yellow flowers best. They tasted good."

Mimi shook her head at her son. "Bail!"

"What?" Bail protested, affecting innocence. "Why are you looking at me?" All three of the adults gave him a reproving look. With a sheepish grin, he shrugged, "All right. Stupid question."

"And we played on the grass!" Anakin interjected, bringing the center of attention back to himself. "So much grass, all over the place. You never saw so much grass. And Master taught me how to do a back- flip off the dock. Here, I mean. And I saw fish in the river. I mean, where we ate lunch."

Anakin prattled on and on, even as his eyelids began to droop and his words were punctuated with yawns. When he became all but unintelligible, Obi-Wan finally stopped him. "I think it's time you went to bed, Padawan."

Anakin's sleepy eyes almost woke up as on principle he protested, "But it's so early!"

"No argument," Obi-Wan stated firmly. "I'll help put you to bed."

"I'm not a baby," Anakin grumbled.

A month ago their exchange would have been tense, challenging, even hostile, but all that was gone. Their argument was more of a teasing display. Obi-Wan would order, but he would do so with affection. Anakin would complain, but he would obey. They were no longer two people bound together despite their will. They were a pair, a team. A master and an apprentice.

Anakin went in turn to each of the Organas, bestowing hugs and kisses on them, before moving to Obi-Wan's chair. He hesitated a moment, then threw his arms around the Jedi's neck. Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around the boy, hugging him tightly, then drew back, ruffling his hair. "You'd better redo your braid before you go to bed," he counseled. "It's a mess from the swim, and if you sleep with it like that, it will become so tangled we'll have to cut it off in the morning, and that just won't do at all."

"You do it," Anakin prompted.

Obi-Wan looked over at Bail with an impish smile. "I don't suppose by any chance you have a comb on you?"

"Now why would you think that?" Bail retorted as he produced one from his pocket.

The family watched in silence as Obi-Wan undid Anakin's braid and carefully smoothed out the tangles, and all the time Anakin's eyes never left Obi-Wan's face. Nor, for that matter, did Bail's. He couldn't help but be reminded of a time once when Obi-Wan had woven a braid for him. But he could no longer resent Anakin's presence. The boy needed Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan, in turn, needed Anakin. Bail did not resent that at all.

Obi-Wan rewove the braid, then handed the bead to Anakin. "Don't lose it."

Anakin clutched the bead tightly in his fist. "I won't, Master." He hesitated again, then stood on his toes and quickly kissed Obi-Wan's cheek, the kiss he could no longer give to his mother.

Obi-Wan smiled and rested his hand briefly on the top of Anakin's head. Qui-Gon's gesture. "Good night, Padawan."

With a final wave to the Organas, Anakin left for bed.

For a moment, no one said anything, strangely moved by such an ordinary little exchange. At last Bail broke the silence. "It seems we get our choli early tonight." He stood and stretched, gesturing in invitation to Obi-Wan. "Shall we?"

The young men stood, bidding the elder Organas good night. They fetched their choli from the kitchen and returned to Bail's room. As they settled on the couch, Bail teased, "Do you have any idea how cute you are when you're being parental?"

Obi-Wan gave him an affectionate glare. "I think that's the first time I've seen that boy completely worn out."

"I'm not surprised," Bail remarked. "Swimming always puts me to sleep, too."

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow at him. "You had better not nod off. You realize we actually have the whole evening to ourselves?"

"In that case, I'll do my best to stay awake."

"Oh, I'll make sure you do," Obi-Wan answered, and Bail felt an eager little thrill, almost like old times. He permitted himself a moment of nostalgia before setting it resolutely aside.

Obi-Wan leaned forward and set his mug on the table, his expression turning serious. He ran his hand along the smooth edge of the table, stroking the wood. "I want to thank you," he said at last, not looking up. "For letting us come here. For being so good to Anakin, and so patient with me."

His eyes rose to meet Bail's. In the half-light of the room, they appeared strangely dark. Bail feared he would be drawn into their depths and never escape. Without the braid, without his padawan tail, with his eyes so dark and deep, Bail almost couldn't recognize him. He shifted awkwardly on the couch. "Don't be ridiculous," he dismissed.

"No, really, Bail." Obi-Wan hesitated. "It was a lot to ask of you. I've been moody and preoccupied." He bit his lip and looked away, breaking the spell.

Bail didn't want this. Why should he be thanked for being a friend? Obi-Wan's gratitude disturbed him. "You've been through a lot lately," he offered, hoping to deflect Obi-Wan's thanks.

For a long moment Obi-Wan remained silent. Then slowly, as if he had to struggle to find the words, he said, "I confess it has been difficult for me. We are supposed to be prepared for death, but...." He trailed off, and Bail feared he might start to cry, but he did not. When he looked up again at Bail, his eyes were bright but dry. "What you did last night, Bail - I really needed that. Things were so stressful between us those last few days, and we never had time to talk about it. I know he never intended to hurt me, but it did hurt. It felt like rejection. I know I should be able to deal with it, but...."

Bail reached out and lay a comforting hand on Obi-Wan's knee. "You may be a Jedi, but you're human first. There are some things we can always stand to hear one more time. I merely said what Qui-Gon would have told you if he could."

"I know," Obi-wan said with a little smile that made Bail's heart ache. "I truly believe it." He raised his hand to cup Bail's cheek, thumb brushing softly over Bail's cheekbone.

Bail held perfectly still, letting go of any expectation, just receiving the touch. Only a touch, but it was still good. He focused on the sensations, fixing this moment in his memory, the warmth of Obi-Wan's hand, the rough scrape of his calloused thumb across Bail's skin. So amazing, that one little gesture could hold so much meaning. He smiled.

Obi-Wan's lips twitched in an answering grin. "I think it's high time I thanked you properly for your hospitality, your Highness."

Bail's smile vanished. Obi-Wan leaned in close, but Bail drew back. "You don't have to do this," he hastily mumbled.

Obi-Wan blinked in confusion. "What?"

Bail retreated further back along the couch. "Really, I'm not expecting anything."

"Expecting?" Obi-Wan echoed. "What do you mean?"

"Things have changed. I know that. They can't go on the way they did before."

Now it was Obi-Wan's turn to lean back, his eyes clouded with confusion. "And why not?"

Obi-Wan's obtuseness was beginning to irritate Bail. Why did he pretend like he didn't know? "You have Anakin now," he pointed out, dodging the issue.

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan laughed. "What does that have to do with it? Honestly, Bail, I know he's been sleeping with me lately, but he's only nine years old. He's my padawan, not my boyfriend. There's no need for you to be jealous."

It sounded so absurd when Obi-Wan said it like that. Bail bowed his head, feeling very foolish, but he couldn't help it. "I'm not jealous," he feebly protested.

Obi-Wan frowned, suppressing a twinge of irritation. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't show up here ready to jump into bed with you. I've been through a lot lately. It sort of kills the libido."

"I know that," Bail interrupted.

Obi-Wan hesitated, studying him closely. "Then why do you think my feelings would have changed?"

"I don't think they've changed," Bail murmured, avoiding Obi-Wan's inquiring gaze. "But he isn't here anymore to insist you go out with me."

For the space of a heartbeat, Obi-Wan froze. Then he exploded in unexpected anger. "I don't believe it! It's not Anakin you're jealous of, it's Qui-Gon! How many times do we have to go over this? Why do you think I came here, of all places?"

Still not looking at him, Bail whispered, "Because you have nowhere else to go."

"You still think you're my second choice." Obi-Wan grabbed Bail's chin, forcing the Prince to look at him. "What do I have to do to convince you that I really do love you? What will it take for you to believe me?"

Bail wrenched his chin free of Obi-Wan's grip. He didn't know how to answer. He didn't know why he couldn't believe it. He just couldn't, no matter how much his heart desired it.

Slowly Obi-Wan shook his head. Bail glanced back at him and saw a fierce expression in the Jedi's eyes. "No," Obi-Wan pronounced. "I don't think I need to convince you. After all we've been through, I'm not the one who needs to prove myself. I think you need to convince me."

Bail stared at him wide-eyed, too stunned to contradict. This didn't seem right, somehow. After all, he wasn't the one who had always professed undying love for another. And yet Obi-Wan's demand gave Bail a bizarre sense of hope. After all, Obi-Wan had asked so little of him in their five years together. Proving his love for Obi-Wan would be easy, but... "How?"

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and held it for a moment, his expression determined. Then he released the breath and said, "You always told me that even though you were going out with other people, I was your Number One. You even wanted to get some stupid tattoo of my name at one point, as if that would prove anything to me. Well, I want to be your only one." He paused uncertainly. "I want you to give up your other lovers."

Bail froze. Of all the things Obi-Wan might ever have asked of him, somehow this was the last thing Bail had expected. In truth, ever since his ordeal on Ithgar he'd all but given up other lovers anyway. Casual sex had lost its appeal. But he had never told Obi- Wan that.

It was strange, really. Back in the beginning, neither of them had been looking for a relationship. They had embarked on an affair that they hadn't expected would last long. And now here they were, five years later. They had been through a lot together, and yet after all this time they still had so much trouble talking about it. Pathetic, really, if you thought about it. But so what? Feeling a little giddy, Bail said, "I was beginning to think you'd never ask."

Obi-Wan frowned slightly, getting that little crease between his eyebrows that Bail loved so much. "I was rather hoping I wouldn't have to."

"I know." Bail grinned. He was starting to feel very happy. "Sorry about that."

"So...." Obi-Wan hesitated. "Will you?"

"Of course," Bail replied, wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan's neck. "All you ever had to do was ask."

Obi-Wan's arms slid around Bail's waist. "I guess we're both rather silly, aren't we?"

"I'll say," Bail agreed, leaning in for a kiss. But before their lips could meet, he pulled back again. "If I'm going to give up something, I think it's only fair you should grant me something in return."

Cautiously, Obi-Wan asked, "What?"

"Since you're going to be my one and only, I want that tattoo. I want to bear your mark forever." He pointed to the inside of his right wrist, tapping with his finger. "Right here. O-B-1. My one and Obi."

Obi-Wan paused. The issue of that tattoo had come up after one of their arguments, not entirely unlike this one, except Obi-Wan had been the insecure one that time, jealous of Bail's other lovers. Bail had offered to get a tattoo, making some absurd claim that it would prove Obi-Wan was his Number One. Tattoos had suddenly become fashionable among Coruscant's trendsetters, and Obi-Wan had stoutly refused, saying he didn't want his name to become a sort of bizarre cosmetic. In truth it had seemed too permanent at the time, a commitment he had not been willing to make. But he was ready now. "All right," he relented, "but only if you agree to stop making those stupid puns."

Bail beamed. "Whatever you say, Obi-wonderful." He laughed against Obi-Wan's cheek. "Obi-mine."

"Stop that," Obi-Wan grumbled, putting on a show of offense, but his arms tightened around Bail's waist. "Well, if you're going to mutilate yourself with some ridiculous tattoo, I suppose I should get one, too. But not on my wrist. Some place a little less visible."

Bail's lips curled into a sly smile. "Some place only I will ever see?"

"Well," Obi-Wan smirked, "you and the healers."

Bail laughed in delight, all the sorrows of the past few weeks finally lifting like the morning fog. "Seeing as how you cut off the braid that was my love token, it's only right you should get a tattoo in exchange."

They leaned toward each other, ready for their kiss now. It was long overdue, but it was all the sweeter for the wait.

And just like that, things were mended between them. The door that had closed opened once more. Joy fell out of the sky, as it had on that gray afternoon five years ago. Still uncertain, still tentative in many ways. They probably hadn't learned as much as they should have over the past half-decade, but they had managed to learn a few things, such as the fact that life could be full of tragedy. The injustice of an abused child. A people starved and oppressed for others' financial gain. Loved ones dying unexpectedly. Harsh words one could never take back.

Hearts bleed and weep and grieve, but the greatest miracle is that they can also mend. They can love again. That which has unraveled can be rewoven.

-fin-

Author's note: Do you remember the brief but strategic reference to the tattoos in "Batter My Heart?" This is where those tattoos came from. And the mention to Ithgar refers to a story that takes place about a year before this one. Coming soon to a mailing list near you!