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“What the hell is that.”
Anakin gaped out the window as a Ford F350 with a a variety of decals on the back windshield (including a large one with something about “trucking and fucking”) pulled into the driveway. A metal clawed hand draped out of the driver’s seat and tapped impatiently, yet gently, on the door of the truck.
“Oh,” Obi-Wan said nonchalantly from the other room, “he’s here already. I thought Grievous would be at least another ten minutes.”
He mentally sputtered as he watched a particularly excited bulldog jump about in the backseat. There was no way his best friend was dating all of… that .
“Are you sure this is the right guy?” He asked after a couple minutes. “I’m pretty sure he speeds up global warming by existing.”
“We’re working on that! Have you seen my wallet by the way?”
“Check your pants in laundry room,” Anakin replied before his friend rushed down the stairs.
The doorbell rang. “I’ve got it!” He shouted, since he was already closest to the door. Anakin rubbed his face and opened the door. Suddenly, a shadow was cast over him as he was confronted with a seven-foot tall cyborg in his doorway. He was accessorized with only a long, dramatic cape and a Starbucks in one of his four hands.
“Is… Obi-Wan here?” Grievous said in a tone that was somehow more of a statement than a question.
Anakin blinked. “Um yeah, he’s looking for his wallet. He’ll be up in a second. Do you want to come in?”
“I’m fine here.”
“Coool…” He looked through one of the entryway windows and noticed the mud splashes on the side of the truck. “You go off-roading recently?”
Grievous took a quick glance back at the truck, which bounced a bit as his dog excitedly tried to escape. “I recently got back from a hunting trip, I haven’t had the time to wash the Invisible Hand yet.”
The what? Did he name his truck? Also, hunting? How the hell was Obi-Wan—a vegetarian—dating someone who hunts? While Anakin understood the different reasons for hunting, he had a feeling Grievous was the kind of person who did it more for fun rather than for food. Also, why would Obi-Wan date anybody who got their coffee from Starbucks?
Before he could begin to verbally question the situation a yelp of recognition came from the topic of interest as he made his way back upstairs. He poked his head around the door and smouldered at Grievous. “Hello there.”
“ Kenobi. ” He replied, sounding pretty displeased for someone picking up their date. Anakin tilted his head at the use of Obi-Wan’s last name.
“I told you to quit calling me that.”
Grievous plating shuddered. “Apologies, habit.”
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and smiled; he looked back at Anakin. “Thank you for holding the door, sorry for keeping you here. I’ll be back later tonight.” He waved goodbye as he walked out. Grievous slowly wrapped two metallic, clawed hands around him as they made their way to the vehicle.
Anakin squinted at the both of them. If he slashed Grievous’s tires, would anybody really know?