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The Temple was quiet in the late afternoon, bathed in warm golden light filtering through the high windows. It was a rare moment of peace, and Obi-Wan fully intended to make the most of it.
Or at least, he had, until he found himself being tackled.
“Obi!” Garen’s voice was full of unrestrained glee as he threw an arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders, nearly sending them both crashing into a nearby pillar. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about us.”
Obi-Wan staggered but managed to regain his balance, shooting his friend a bemused look. “I was gone for a mission , not forever.”
Bant appeared on his other side, her large silver eyes glinting with mischief. “Yes, but we figured you’d come back all serious and brooding.” She poked his arm playfully. “Master Jinn’s habits might be rubbing off on you.”
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “I do not brood.”
Garen smirked. “You definitely brood.”
Before Obi-Wan could argue, Reeft joined them, carrying an impressive amount of pastries from the Temple kitchens. “If he broods, at least let him do it with food,” Reeft said, shoving a pastry into Obi-Wan’s hands before plopping down onto one of the benches. “It’s been too long since we had a proper break.”
Obi-Wan, recognizing a losing battle, sighed and took a bite. The sweet, flaky pastry melted in his mouth, and he had to admit, Reeft was right. It had been too long.
“So,” Bant said, settling beside him. “How was the mission? Any daring heroics?”
Obi-Wan lifted a brow. “Diplomacy isn’t exactly known for heroics. ”
“Ah,” Garen said, leaning forward with an exaggerated grin. “So that means you did do something dramatic.”
Obi-Wan huffed but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s just say Qui-Gon was impressed.”
Bant clapped her hands together. “That’s practically a miracle. ”
Reeft nodded sagely. “We should celebrate.”
“Didn’t we just get food?” Obi-Wan gestured at the pile of pastries Reeft was already working through.
“Yes,” Reeft said through a mouthful. “But I was thinking more of a friendly spar. You know, since you’re practically a negotiator now, we have to make sure you still remember how to fight. ”
Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes, but Garen and Bant were already nodding in agreement. “You’re all conspiring against me.”
Garen grinned. “Absolutely.”
Obi-Wan sighed, finishing off his pastry before standing. “Fine. But don’t complain when I win.”
Bant smirked. “Oh, we won’t.”
As they made their way toward the training rooms, Obi-Wan felt something light settle in his chest. He had faced trials and doubts, but here, surrounded by his friends, he was reminded of something important. No matter how much changed, no matter how many challenges lay ahead, some things, like friendship and laughter, remained constant.
The training room was empty except for the four of them, bathed in the soft glow of overhead lights. Obi-Wan spun his training saber idly in his hand, watching as Garen stretched dramatically, loosening his limbs.
Reeft groaned. “Why do we have to warm up? Let’s just fight.”
Bant snickered. “That’s why you always lose, Reeft.”
Reeft grumbled but didn’t argue.
Obi-Wan stepped onto the mat, twirling his saber with ease. “So, how do we do this? One at a time, or all of you against me?”
Garen shot him a grin. “You’re awfully confident.”
“I’ve had practice,” Obi-Wan said smugly, setting into a ready stance.
Bant and Garen exchanged glances before simultaneously lunging at him. Obi-Wan barely had time to react before he twisted, ducking beneath their incoming strikes. He caught Garen’s saber on his own and sidestepped, knocking him back with a quick tap to the ribs.
“You’re out,” Obi-Wan teased.
Garen groaned but stepped back. “Unfair.”
Bant grinned as she advanced, her movements swift and controlled. Reeft, however, chose a far less refined approach, charging forward with more enthusiasm than strategy. Obi-Wan sidestepped him easily, letting him stumble past before sweeping his leg out, knocking Reeft to the mat.
“Unfair!” Reeft cried dramatically from the floor. “Obi-Wan’s cheating.”
Bant shook her head, laughing. “He’s just better than you.”
Obi-Wan smirked. “I warned you.”
Bant took advantage of his distraction, nearly landing a strike before Obi-Wan twisted at the last moment, their sabers locking. For a moment, they stood there, each pushing against the other’s blade, determination flickering in their eyes.
Then Obi-Wan smirked and abruptly stepped back, sending Bant stumbling forward. He tapped her lightly on the shoulder with his saber before she could regain her balance.
Bant huffed but grinned. “Alright, I’ll admit it. You win.”
Obi-Wan deactivated his saber, rolling his shoulders. “Told you not to complain.”
Garen groaned dramatically. “We’re never inviting you to spar again.”
Reeft sat up, rubbing his back. “Unless we team up against you from the start.”
Obi-Wan laughed, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. As they settled down to rest, Bant nudged him. “It’s good to have you back.”
Obi-Wan glanced at his friends, warmth filling his chest. “It’s good to be back.”
Reeft, rubbing his sore shoulder, groaned dramatically. “I don’t know about you all, but I need food. A lot of food.”
Garen nodded. “I second that. But not Temple food! I want something real.”
Bant perked up. “Dex’s?”
Obi-Wan hesitated for only a second before pulling out his commlink and sending a quick message to Qui-Gon.
Padawan: Can I go to Dex’s with Garen, Bant, and Reeft?
Qui-Gon’s reply was swift. Master: Don’t get into trouble. You know where to find me if it’s too much.
Obi-Wan smirked. Padawan: I know. When do I ever get into trouble?
Master: Do you want the list chronologically or alphabetically?
Rolling his eyes, Obi-Wan sent a final message. Padawan: I’ll be good. Thanks, Master.
He looked up at his friends and grinned. “We’re clear.”
Reeft pumped a fist in the air. “Yes! I can already taste the nerf steak.”
A short air taxi ride later, they arrived at Dex’s Diner. The familiar neon glow of the sign greeted them, and as soon as they stepped inside, the warm scent of sizzling food wrapped around them.
Dex himself was behind the counter, wiping his hands on his apron before flashing them a wide grin. “Well, if it isn’t my favourite group of troublemakers! Haven’t seen you in a while, Obi-Wan.”
Obi-Wan smiled. “Been busy.”
Dex chuckled. “Aren’t we all? Grab a booth, I’ll bring out the usual.”
They slid into a booth near the back, the cushions worn but comfortable. Within minutes, plates stacked high with steaming food appeared before them. Reeft wasted no time digging in, groaning in delight after the first bite.
“This,” he mumbled through a mouthful, “is what I’ve been missing.”
Bant laughed, carefully picking apart her fish dish. “You act like the Temple starves you.”
“It does compared to this,” Garen said, pointing at his plate as if making a point.
Obi-Wan ate more slowly, savouring the taste of something warm and familiar. Being here, surrounded by laughter and the clatter of plates, felt almost surreal after everything he had been through.
Dex strolled by and gave Obi-Wan a knowing look. “How’s Qui-Gon? Still brooding?”
Obi-Wan smirked. “Oh, definitely.”
Garen snorted. “See? Even Dex agrees you’ve picked up his habits.”
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned back, content as the conversation flowed around him. There had been difficult times, there would be difficult times, but tonight, for a little while, everything was just as it should be.
---
Obi-Wan returned to the Temple just as the sun dipped behind Coruscant’s skyline, painting the sky in hues of gold and pink. He was flushed with laughter, the echo of his friends' teasing still ringing in his ears from their dinner at Dex’s. Grease from nerf fries clung faintly to his tunic sleeves, and he still smelled of caf and spiced sweetcakes. He was ready for a shower, maybe a quick meditation session, and definitely not expecting what greeted him when he opened the door to his quarters.
“Quinlan Vos, what in the galaxy are you doing on my couch?”
The figure sprawled across the sofa grinned lazily, one arm draped over his face, the other holding an empty ration bar wrapper. He looked like he’d just rolled in from the Outer Rim, boots still dusty, hair a tangled mess of wind-knots, his robe halfway falling off one shoulder.
“Hey, Obi,” Quinlan drawled, peeking out from beneath his arm. “Miss me?”
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, already smiling despite himself. “You were gone for three weeks. You couldn’t have sent a message? I thought Master Tholme grounded you again.”
“Nah. Mission wrapped early.” Quinlan yawned, shameless. “Told the Council I needed immediate recovery time. You know, emotional healing and stuff.”
“You mean napping on my couch and stealing my emergency snacks.”
“It’s emotional for me, Obi,” Quinlan said with mock sincerity, stretching like a loth-cat. “Besides, I missed this lumpy old thing.”
“I’m the only one allowed to call that sofa names,” Obi-Wan muttered, dropping his satchel by the door. “Move over.”
“No room,” Quinlan said instantly, spreading out further.
Obi-Wan stared, then gave a small, wicked smirk. “Fine. You’ve chosen war.”
He lunged.
What followed was a flurry of robes and laughter, Obi-Wan tackling Quinlan sideways and nearly rolling them both onto the floor. Quinlan howled with exaggerated pain, but his arms wrapped around Obi-Wan easily, and suddenly the wrestling match turned into tangled limbs and a fit of helpless giggles. Obi-Wan jabbed an elbow into Quinlan’s side, softly, but enough to make him squeak, and Quinlan retaliated by dragging Obi-Wan down into the cushions and locking his arms around him like a shield.
“You’re ridiculous,” Obi-Wan mumbled into his shoulder, trying to squirm away.
“You love it,” Quinlan said smugly, holding fast.
Obi-Wan went still for a moment. Then, quietly: “Yeah, I kinda do.”
Quinlan blinked, his grip loosening just enough for Obi-Wan to wriggle around and nestle in properly, his head tucked beneath Quinlan’s chin, legs stretched out, body warm and relaxed.
Outside, speeders flew past in a blur of light. Inside, everything was still.
Quinlan rested his cheek against Obi-Wan’s hair. “Next time,” he murmured, “I’ll bring real food. None of that ration garbage.”
Obi-Wan hummed sleepily. “You’d better. Or I’m throwing you off the sofa.”
“Liar,” Quinlan said with a grin, arms tightening just slightly. “You’re gonna fall asleep right here.”
Obi-Wan didn’t argue. He just sighed, warm and safe, and let his eyes fall shut.
And Quinlan, fresh off a battlefield, body aching but heart oddly light, let them both rest right where they were.