"Hm." The senator touched Obi-Wan's hair, lightly. "Very well. There's really no need, is there? You're Jedi."

"I don't have visions, not often. Not many of us do."

"Lucky for the fortune-tellers!" the man said, laughing.

"I suppose."

"So, tell me, Jedi, what brings you out here tonight? And why don't you go back with your friends?"

Obi-Wan sipped his wine. "Personal troubles."

"Ah. I know that one. Many's the time I've drowned my troubles in a party."

Obi-Wan smirked. "Ever been in love with your Master?"

"Well," the senator said, "I've never had a master." He put his glass down. "Shall we dance?"

Obi-Wan let himself be pulled to his feet and into the rhythm of the party once more. The senator held him close, but not too close; firmly, but not too firmly. Together, they whirled through the steps.

When the dance was over, they held onto each other, breathing hard.

"Can I take you back to the Temple?" the man asked. "Or can I take you to my place?"

Obi asks to go the Temple.

Obi goes home with the senator.