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The halls were quiet—well, as quiet as the fifth floor of Gar Hall ever got. Anakin was pretty sure some of his friends hadn’t been taught to use ‘indoor voices’ as children, and it showed.
This late on a Friday night, there was no one around. Most of the fifth floor was either out partying—Hardcase and Jesse, definitely—or sleeping—Tup, probably. Rex would have been sleeping, Anakin knew, but tonight was a very special night, and his roommate had begrudgingly gone off to spend the evening with a friend so that Anakin could have their room to himself.
Well, to himself and one other person.
Because tonight was Anakin and Padme’s one-year dating anniversary.
And he was sneaking her into his room.
Gar Hall, the college’s sole boys-only dormitory, was very strict about this sort of thing: no girls in the dorm outside the hours of noon and nine p.m., open door policy at all times when a girl was in the room, etcetera. Most of the guys who lived in Gar had either chosen to live there out of some sort of brotherhood-of-masculinity mindset, or had been forced to by the fact that they were underclassmen. The university believed that while upperclassmen were mature and intelligent students, capable of making good decisions and thus allowed to live in co-ed dorms, underclassmen were untrustworthy troublemakers (and Anakin couldn’t quite disagree, based on his own record) and had to be separated by gender. Gar Hall—the biggest dormitory on campus—was where underclassmen guys had to live, for better or worse.
Anakin was inclined to think for worse.
He wouldn’t have been worried about sneaking Padme in if it weren’t for the RAs. The fifth floor RA was never around (Anakin didn’t remember ever meeting the guy), but the second-floor RA made up for it by patrolling tirelessly—and, frankly, being a rule-following dickhead. He was hyper-aware of everything happening, as though he had a sixth sense for when someone was about to make trouble, and had stopped half of the dorm’s schemes before they ever saw the light of day. He seemed to have a particular radar just for Anakin’s antics, which was incredibly annoying and detrimental to Anakin’s enjoyment of life.
He also happened to be Anakin’s older brother.
But Anakin had a plan, and not even Obi-Wan was going to stop him this time.
He checked that everything was in place in his room—candles, roses, the TV with her favorite movie pulled up and ready to watch, all of the stuff he knew she loved—and then knocked quietly on room 505. The door opened to the grinning face of Fives, the older of the Domino twins. In the dark, neon-lit gaming paradise of their room, Anakin could see Echo, the younger (by five minutes) of the twins with his headset on, eyes locked on a screen and controller in hand.
“It’s that time already?” Fives asked, leaning on the doorframe.
Anakin nodded to confirm. “You remember the plan?”
“We got it, boss, no need to worry.”
“Don’t forget that you owe us after this,” Echo called out, his eyes not leaving the screen.
“I won’t. On my honor.” Anakin jerked his head down the hall. “Better get going. Padme’s outside.”
“Don’t wanna keep her waiting, then.” Fives gave Anakin’s shoulder a playful punch. “Go get your girl. We’ll take care of Big Brother.”
Anakin rolled his eyes and headed for the elevator.
Padme was standing at the back door, cozy against the autumn chill in an off-the shoulder sweater that made Anakin’s breath catch. He opened the door and she looked over, a smile lighting up her face at the sight of him.
“Hey,” he said, and kissed her.
Her smile was still there when they pulled apart. “You know you could’ve come to my dorm tonight,” she said. “My suitemates wouldn’t have minded.” Padme was a year older and lived in Senat Hall, a co-ed dorm with suites for three or four people.
“Nah, I wanted to do something special for you,” he said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Just the two of us.”
“What about Obi-Wan?”
“He’s taken care of.” He took her hand. “Now come on. Fives and Echo won’t be able to keep him distracted forever.”
—
Obi-Wan was, for once, having a peaceful night. The wild parties of Halloween were over, and the stress of midterms had passed, so Gar Hall felt quiet for once. He was about to make tea and was enjoying some down time.
He knew it was too good to last.
It wasn’t his night on duty, but when he heard the sounds from the second floor common room, he sighed, put on his ‘RA on duty’ face, and emerged from his room anyway.
A bunch of guys gathered—more like squeezed—in the common room that was far too small for such a crowd. Beers were being passed around, and three big TVs had been set up in addition to the common room’s ancient one that worked only sometimes. Obi-Wan recognized a few guys from his floor—Waxer and Boil with their arms full of snacks as usual, and Oddball—multiple from the first and third, and several from the fifth. And at the center of it all: the Domino twins.
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. He should have known.
He leaned against the doorframe, eyes scanning the room. Fives was, as usual, making himself the center of attention. He had his hands in the air, talking loudly to the crowd, while Echo worked busily behind him, connecting remotes to various video game systems that he’d hooked up to the TVs. It was lucky that most of the controllers were wireless, Obi-Wan reflected, or he’d be able to add ‘fire hazard’ to the report he was about to file on this event.
“As promised, it’s time for Gar Hall’s much-anticipated Halo tournament!" Fives shouted, and the crowd of guys cheered. “Echo’s worked out a special mod: we’ll have eight players in the same campaign in a free-for-all of mass destruction. Special weapons, special vehicles, the whole nine yards. Don’t ask Echo how he did it unless you want to get your ear talked off and also be an accomplice to potentially illegal activity.”
That got some laughs, and Echo raised a hand briefly in acknowledgement.
“Now, we’ve got a bracket set up already, but I see some newcomers,” Fives said, glancing briefly at Obi-Wan and grinning, “so we’re gonna have to set up another section for you guys who didn’t see the google form we sent out. But until it’s your turn, settle in, grab some snacks, and enjoy the competition.”
“Doritos and mountain dew are on the table,” Waxer called, pointing.
“And free beer in the cooler!” someone—probably Sinker—shouted, and the crowd cheered again.
“Only for those over the age of twenty, of course,” Obi-Wan said calmly, his voice carrying.
The cheering stopped as thirty-something sophomore guys turned and looked at their RA, leaning serenely on the doorframe and surveying them all with an expression that pleasantly said I haven’t filed a report yet, but I’ve seen everything I need to do so.
“Obi-Wan,” Fives greeted, his grin still in place. He genuinely seemed to be enjoying himself. “Nice of you to drop in. You want a spot in the bracket?”
“What I want is to know if you submitted the proper documentation to rent out this room for the evening,” Obi-Wan said, pushing off the doorframe and walking into the room. “I didn’t see anything about a Halo tournament on the schedule.”
“Must have gotten lost,” Fox replied casually. “The fifth floor RA probably didn’t turn it into the office.”
Obi-Wan would almost believe that—the fifth floor RA was never around, and Obi-Wan could hardly remember his face—if it hadn’t been the Domino twins who were behind this. “And the beer?”
Fives shrugged. “Sinker brought that. He’s twenty-one, after all, and the dorm doesn’t prohibit alcohol.”
“Not in the hands of those who are of age,” Obi-Wan replied mildly. He glanced at Crys, a freshman who lived on his floor and just happened to be holding a can. Crys hurriedly handed it back to Sinker.
Fives rolled his eyes. “Of course. We’ll make sure no one is drinking who shouldn’t be. Right, Echo?”
“Right,” Echo nodded.
“As reassuring as that is,” Obi-Wan said dryly, “you still don’t have the necessary documentation for an event in this room. All documentation for a gathering of over eight people is supposed to be submitted to the office a week in advance.”
“Maybe you can hunt down that fifth floor RA and he’ll have the paperwork for you,” Fives replied, a glint in his eye.
“Maybe I will. And you’re aware that quiet hours begins in ninety minutes?”
“Certainly. We’ll be outta here before then, right boys?”
Obi-Wan seriously doubted that, but … it technically wasn’t his problem. He was off duty. He held in a sigh. “Very well. Carry on.”
Fives turned back to the crowd. “You heard the man. Let the tournament begin!”
Cheers resounded, several more beers were passed out (to those of age, of course, now that the watchful eye of Obi-Wan Kenobi was on them), and guys settled themselves onto couches and the coffee table and convenient spots on the floor. Obi-Wan returned to the doorway, keeping an eye on the proceedings for a moment longer. He didn’t have time to watch them all night—and wasn’t particularly interested in Halo, either—but he figured he should at least make his presence felt before he left them to their devices.
Fives approached, still grinning like a madman, and Obi-Wan felt a grudging measure of respect for him. The Domino twins were troublemakers, but they usually had style and all the right answers to avoid getting caught, and he respected that.
“Sure you don’t wanna join the bracket?” Fives asked, offering him a beer.
“I’m sure,” Obi-Wan replied, shaking his head. “Why the second-floor room, Fives? You couldn’t let me have a peaceful night for once?”
“Sorry, Kenobi. Second floor has the best atmosphere and couches, you know that.”
He did know that. First floor guarded their common room like a wolfpack guarding their den, and third floor was decked out in bright yellows that someone—probably Bly—had thought was a good idea but mainly gave people headaches. Fourth floor wasn’t even worth mentioning. The fifth floor common room was fine, save for the couches: they’d probably looked like couches a few years ago, but now they were just a disgrace to sofa-kind.
“Just keep it down. Wolffe’s on duty downstairs and I can’t imagine he’ll be more merciful than I am.”
“We appreciate your mercy, O Great Resident Assistant.” Fives winked again. “I know Crys certainly does.”
Obi-Wan sighed and left, the noise of thirty-something boys between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two reverberating in the small common room behind him. Sometimes you just had to live and let live. He knew the Domino twins wouldn’t let anyone get seriously injured, or drunk without giving them a hand back to their room, and sometimes that was all Obi-Wan could ask for in Gar Hall.
Besides, when scanning the room, he’d noticed something that required his attention to be elsewhere: Anakin had been notably absent.
—
Anakin could hear the sounds from second floor even in the stairwell, and he smiled. Fives and Echo had delivered with their distraction. Obi-Wan wouldn’t be able to resist investigating an un-mandated event, especially one with alcohol, especially one this loud when it was almost quiet hours.
Padme’s hand was still in his as they crept quietly up the back stairwell to the fifth floor. He checked that the hallway was empty, then led Padme to the door of room 501. “Okay, close your eyes,” he instructed, and led her through the open door.
“Can I open them now?” Padme asked, hands over her eyes.
Anakin shut the door to his room, checking that everything was in place, and smiled. “Yeah. Now.”
Padme took her hands off her face and gasped. The small room was lit by candles, the rug was covered in rose petals, and two glasses of champagne sat bubbling and sparkling in the middle of it all. All things considered, Anakin and Rex’s dorm room had never looked so nice.
Anakin watched her expression happily. “Happy anniversary.”
She turned back to him and put her hands on his face. “It’s perfect.”
“Come on.” He led her to the middle of the rug—the clean rug that Rex had vacuumed recently, bless him—and sat down, tugging her gently down next to him. He handed her a glass of champagne. “I wanted to do something special to celebrate us being together for a whole year. It’s been one of the best of my life.”
“Mine, too,” she said, smiling up at him.
They clinked glasses, both taking a sip, and she leaned against him. “Against all odds,” she murmured.
“Yeah. You being president of the student body, me being an underclassman—”
“And Obi-Wan watching you like a hawk,” she teased.
“That, too. I don’t want to talk about Obi-Wan tonight, though.” He leaned in. “Just us.”
“Just us,” she agreed, and kissed him. She tasted like champagne, and he pulled her closer.
It was perfect.
…For about five minutes.
The first knock on the door didn’t phase them. The second made Padme pull away and whisper, “Who is it?”
Anakin shrugged. “Rex isn't coming back til 1 a.m. Maybe he forgot something. He'll go away." He kissed Padme again.
The third knock on the door made Anakin frown. Whoever it was, they were determined.
Then they heard the voice.
“Anakin, if you don’t open the door, I’m going to get the master key and come in.”
Anakin and Padme exchanged wide-eyed glances. “Obi-Wan,” she whispered.
Panic and frustration rose in Anakin in equal measures. Of course he had to ruin this. “I’ll … just tell him I’m feeling sick. Quick, blow out the candles.”
They blew them out quickly, and then Anakin gestured to the spot behind the door. “Hide there,” he said quietly.
Obi-Wan knocked again, and Anakin huffed. No privacy at all. He opened the door a crack.
The hallway light made him blink. Obi-Wan was standing there, his right eyebrow raised in the expression that said I know what you’re doing, the same look he’d been giving Anakin since their childhood.
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, faking a yawn. “What are you doing?”
“What are you doing?” Obi-Wan returned.
“I was sleeping until you woke me up.”
“At ten-thirty on a Friday night?”
“I’m not feeling well.” Anakin blinked again, trying to appear sleepy.
“You seemed fine earlier.”
“It came on suddenly.”
“Mm. Is Rex here?” Obi-Wan asked, trying to see past Anakin.
“No, he’s out,” Anakin replied, shielding the majority of his room with his body. He prayed Obi-Wan couldn’t see the candles or rose petals in the pitch-dark behind him. He caught Padme’s wide eyes, looking at him from behind the door. “Don’t you have studying to do?”
“I’m not as much of a bookworm as you seem to think I am, Anakin.” Obi-Wan crossed his arms. “Nor as stupid.”
Anakin tried to look insulted. “I don’t think you’re stupid.”
“Gullible, then.” Somehow he raised his eyebrow higher. “How does Padme feel about you being sick on your one year anniversary?”
“Oh, that was tonight, wasn’t it.” As soon as the words were out, Anakin knew they were the wrong ones. He’d been talking about it nonstop for weeks now, mostly with Rex, but he’d mentioned it once or twice to Obi-Wan before he’d figured out what he wanted to do. Behind the door, he saw Padme’s eyes widen as she shook her head. Reverse course! Reverse course! “I mean, we were gonna reschedule. Cuz I’m not feeling well. She was kind of mad, but you know. What are you gonna do?” Anakin smiled weakly, ignoring the look Padme was giving him.
“How unfortunate.”
They stood there, Obi-Wan looking at Anakin and Padme looking at Anakin and Anakin looking at Obi-Wan and trying not to look at Padme. After a minute Anakin said, “Okay, well. Um. Good chat. ‘Night.”
“Anakin.”
Obi-Wan’s tone stopped him as he tried to shut the door.
“Did you at least tell Padme I said hi?”
Padme covered her mouth with a hand.
“What do you mean?” Anakin asked innocently.
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “I know she’s in there, Anakin. Tell her she can stop hiding under the bed or behind the door or wherever she is. Actually, she can probably hear me herself.”
“I don’t—”
“Drop the act, Anakin.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “You know the rules of the dorm. I can’t let them slide, even for you.”
“You mean…” Anakin narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to write me up?”
“I have to.”
“What?” Anakin exploded. “You don’t have to. I’m your brother!”
“You’re still in violation of the rules,” Obi-Wan reminded him.
Padme’s eyes were wide and panicked.
“Don’t write her up, just me,” Anakin pleaded. “She can’t get written up for this kind of thing, she’s student body president. How would that make her look?”
“Like everyone else, certainly. Some people might even be inclined to like her better knowing that she’s a rule-breaker.”
“Obi-Wan—”
“I’m sorry, Anakin.” His face was implacable, his mouth a thin line. “You know the rules. She’ll have to leave. And tomorrow, both of you can expect an email about your records. You’ll have to—”
“Obi, there you are.”
Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Padme all froze at the feminine voice. Anakin’s eyes slid down the hallway, widening at the sight of Satine Kryze, editor of the campus’ Political Review and well-known president and champion of the debate club, standing on the fifth floor of Gar Hall at 10:30 p.m. saying the words there you are to his older brother as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
“I can’t remember which drawer you keep your tea in,” she continued, smiling easily. “Can you come back and show me?”
Obi-Wan opened his mouth and then closed it. Twice.
A grin spread slowly across Anakin’s face. His older brother, caught in the act. He wondered how Obi-Wan had smuggled her in.
“I—” Obi-Wan stopped and closed his mouth again, glancing at Anakin.
“Better go help her find the tea,” Anakin suggested, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’d hate for someone to see her in the hallway. Wouldn’t want you to get written up for having a girl in the dorm.”
“I prefer the term ‘woman,’ thank you, Anakin,” Satine said smoothly. “I’m sure Padme does as well.”
Obi-Wan looked between them, helpless. Anakin held in a laugh. This was a moment he was going to remember for a long, long time.
At last Obi-Wan straightened. “Very well. Have a nice anniversary.” He turned and walked back to Satine, taking her hand with some embarrassment, and she kissed his cheek. Over her shoulder, she winked at Anakin, and he winked back.
Padme peered out from around the door. “I’ve always liked that woman.”
Anakin grinned, watching his brother open the door to the back stairwell for Satine Kryze, still looking embarrassed but also plainly lovestruck. “Apparently so has Obi-Wan.”