Two Halfs of One Warrior • Obikin/Vaderwan One-Shots

Escape Plan Still In Construction

• Summary: Every year, the senior Padawans put together a naughty little list. Obi-Wan's new Master is on it. Obi-Wan is not pleased.

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The piece of flimsi with the results went around the senior Padawans. They laughed and occasionally added commentary.

• WORST JEDI TO WAKE UP NEXT TO: Yoda (OH FORCE NO, wrote a female Tortugra)
• JEDI I WANT TO MARRY: Secura.
• JEDI MOST LIKELY TO CHEAT ON YOU: Vos (don’t do him like that guys, wrote a human male.)
• JEDI WITH THE MOST DADDY ENERGY: Jinn
• JEDI WITH THE MOST MOMMY ENERGY: Ti (yes, agreed several Padawans.)
• JEDI MOST LIKELY TO BE KINKY: Windu
• JEDI I WANT ON TOP OF ME: Fisto
• JEDI I WANT UNDER ME: Skywalker
Below this: This year I’m going to fuck the Hero With No Fear if it kills me.

Each of the subsequent “+1s” added to that comment all came from different Padawans.

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His Padawan was in a foul mood. Despite being taller, Anakin had to trot to keep up with Obi-Wan's long strides.

“Are we late for something I don't know about?” he asked, tilting his head to the side curiously.

Had he done something to upset the young learner? Anakin had been told, multiple times, by his ex-wife, kids, and not an insignificant portion of the Jedi Council, that he had a propensity for putting his foot in his mouth and remaining oblivious until someone spelled it out for him.

Still, he'd been cooped up with Mace and Depa for most of the day, compiling reports. Obi-Wan had been in a perfectly fine mood when they'd left their apartment that morning. Whatever could have happened in those few hours that they were apart?

Anger radiated through their training bond.

“No,” Obi-Wan answered shortly.

Right, then. Anakin chewed on the inside of his cheek. And Qui-Gon had told him that Obi-Wan wouldn’t be a problem.

Not that he considered Obi-Wan a problem. He didn’t. He just thought that his former master might have oversold his Padawan when handing him off to Anakin to finish his training so that Qui-Gon could go on a five-year mission deep in the Outer Rim. Somber and responsible, Qui-Gon had vowed.

Bantha podoo, Anakin thought.

“Well,” he tried again, and then he shot an arm out when they turned a corner, grabbing Obi-Wan’s shoulder, saving him from a collision with another Padawan that Anakin vaguely recognized. The Force settled around him, satisfied that he’d been quick to heed the warning.

“I’m so sorry!” gasped the Kessurian male, jerking to an abrupt stop. In his hands was a holopad that he’d been distractedly reading while he walked.

“You’re alright,” answered Anakin easily. Beneath his palm, Obi-Wan tensed.

The bond between them thrummed like a plucked string.

“T-thank you, Master Skywalker.” The Kessurian stared at him, wide-eyed, and Anakin wearily recognized a fan after fifteen years of being glorified as the face of the GAR.

“Um, Master Skywalker? Would it be possible to have an Ataru demonstration? Master Jabi claims you’re the best she’s ever se—”

“No, he can’t,” Obi-Wan cut off the other Padawan curtly. “Master, we’re late,” he then announced, and effectively shouldered the Kessurian out of the way.