Recipe for Disaster

Scene 20

"What are you still doing skulking about here?" Ben To Li demanded of the waiting area's single tenacious occupant.

Obi-Wan raised a weary head form its resting place between his hands. "I was hoping to speak to Padawan Vos."

The Temple's senior healer cocked a silver brow at the young Jedi and twirled his beard between two fingers. "It's your lucky day - I've just released him. You two are cut of the same cloth, where cooperation is concerned."

The padawan stood, fingers laced tightly together within his voluminous cloak sleeves. When Quinlan made his appearance, bold yellow facial markings looking a bit garish against pallid skin, the guilty party bowed deeply before him. "Vos. I beg you to forgive my dishonorable and thoughtless actions. I did not consider the consequences of my deeds, and I was motivated by selfishness and arrogance. I have wronged you greatly and I wish to make amends."

There was a hesitation on Quinlan's part. "Well," he said, after a significant span of time in which his supplicant remained meekly bent before him. "That was some chisszk you pulled, Kenobi. My head's gonna hurt for a week. I misjudged you, man - I thought you were way too stick up the arse to try something like that."

Obi-Wan winced. But he was here to eat humble pie, and he would do the job properly. "I have proved beyond a doubt which one of us has bantha balls for brains," he replied.

Vos stepped forward and punched him hard in the shoulder. "Yeah!" the irrepressible Kiffar snorted. "Both of us, brother."

His agemate straightened, rubbing at the bruised spot. "But I -"

Quinlan grinned widely. "Hey, Kenobi, loosen up. It takes more than that to cook my goose."

"Oh. Well, then."

Vos slung an arm around his shoulders and propelled him beneath the wide entry arch. "Do it again and I'll kill you, of course."

"Well. You can try." It was ...odd... to be seen in the main annex hall literally arm in arm with the Temple's resident hellion. But a lesson learned was a lesson learned.

"Besides, I owe you big time - word is Troon banned us both from ever cooking again. Nice one!"

"That was the general idea," Obi-Wan admitted.

They proceeded up a wide staircase in what amounted to amicable fraternity. Somewhere deep in the Force a tiny blossom of compassion shyly peeked its head out from beneath the ruinous debris of the last day. A deep centering breath - best not to think about it too much, focus on the present moment - and then..

"Vos. I'd like to buy you dinner. I know a place in CoCo Town - a friend of mine owns it. You'll like him."

Quinlan perked up. "Yeah? How's the food?"

Obi-Wan beamed. "Absolutely ghastly."

They sauntered toward the upper levels and the south hangar bay, side by side, with a shared and healthy appetite.

The End