The senator drove them both to the Temple in silence. Obi-Wan was glad of it, because he was tired and drunk and confused, and he still didn't know what to do about his Master. They reached the Temple, and found Biloa still on-shift, and a crowd of exhausted Padawans piling out of the public transport.
Obi-Wan let the senator lift him out of the shuttle and hand him off to Biloa at the door. "Sleep well, young Jedi," he said, and Obi-Wan stirred himself enough to turn and look up at the older man.
"Thank you," he answered, "and what's your name? I've forgotten."
The senator grinned, his even teeth flashing in the dark. "Bail Antilles," he said, "of Alderaan--and talk to your Master, boy, or get over it." He leaned closer and kissed Obi-Wan gently on the mouth. "Once, I was young--and though I had no master, I had a governess. Don't waste opportunity."
And then he was gone, climbing into his shuttle and sailing away. Obi-Wan shook off Biloa's helping hands and staggered back to the quarters he shared with his Master to fall asleep.
Tomorrow--tomorrow he would talk to Qui-Gon. As the door to the quarters slid open, he realized that the door was...full.
No time like the present, he thought, and slid his arms around his Master, the feeling of drunkeness replaced by the heady sway of finally, finally, holding Qui-Gon; finally being where he wanted to be.
"Hm," said Qui-Gon. "Come on, Obi-Wan. Bedtime."
"With you," Obi-Wan murmured.
"Yes," his Master answered. "Of course with me."
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