Obi-Wan felt a flicker of worry as several of the Jedi apprentices filed out of the door, but he was having more fun than he'd had in months. Just being drunk enough to forget his wistful, unrequited desire for Qui-Gon was a relief of sorts, and having enthusiastic partners to dance with was even better. It was nice to feel wanted, and the young men and women who continually asked him to dance flattered him greatly, reassuring him that he was worthwhile after all.
Perhaps he ought to get out more often.
He excused himself to move to the refreshment table, looking ruefully at the empty punchbowl. He was hot and sweaty and had worked up quite a thirst.
One of the senators, a half-familiar man with a receding hairline, stood smiling at him from the nearby wall, and Obi-Wan returned the smile politely, picking up a cracker and munching it.
The senator held a full glass of dark red wine, and he gestured Obi-Wan forward cordially. "Dancing is thirsty work, my young Jedi," he smiled. "Have some wine?"
"Thank you, Senator." Obi-Wan accepted the glass and took a swallow.
"Drink up," the Senator urged him, tipping the bottom of the glass with one short finger. "Plenty more where that came from."
Obi-Wan did, the potent wine rushing straight to his head and making him sway dizzily.
"Thank you, sir," he smiled, and the Senator bowed faintly, a half-smile on his face.
A hand fell on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Come on, Obi, the last transport to the Temple before Biloa goes off-shift is about to leave," a female Padawan he hardly knew caught his shoulder. "Let's go!"
Obi goes with the girl
Obi stays at the party