This story was written as a holiday "gift exchange" to another author who loves Anakin and thinks Obi-Wan was far too hard on him and never showed him enough affection. It had three requirements:

1. Set during the Clone Wars

2. Characters are Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi

3. Banter as in the opening of ROTS

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"Shhh!"

"I can't help it," Obi-Wan hissed back.

"You're going to get us both killed, Obi-Wan!"

Despite the seriousness of the situation the two Jedi found themselves in, trapped but as yet undetected, in the lair of the enemy, the older Jedi grinned and shrugged. Almost getting the two of them killed was a frequent occurrence – the key being "almost."

"Then you'll have to save the both of us. Again."

"How about you 'saving' us, former master of mine?"

Obi-Wan sighed dramatically and patted the younger man's hand. "Anakin, Anakin, former padawan of mine. You get us in these messes, you get us out. That's the way it works, okay?"

Both men suddenly tensed and looked at each other, fingers twitching over the activation button of their lightsabers. They had been in hiding for a good hour, waiting for their chance. Obi-Wan lifted his head and ever so carefully sniffed.

"You're not going to -?"

"No, I'm not," was Obi-Wan's testy reply.

"Because if you do, you'll die. I don't want you to die."

"I don't want me to die, either, Padawan."

"What about me?"

Obi-Wan scratched his chin and gazed as best he could in the gloom at his companion, apparently deep in thought. "That depends."

Putting on a look of injured innocence, Anakin whined, "On what?"

"I'd prefer you to live, of course, but if my continued ability to live depended on your death – it'd be a hard decision."

The swat against a bearded cheek resulted in such a grin of teasing affection that Anakin swallowed past a sudden lump in his throat. The two had often been in perilous situations, often facing almost certain death, and often side-by-side in the healers wards recovering.

"Yeah, well, maybe I would die to save you," Anakin mumbled back. "But only if I had no way to push you in front of me first."

"You're a larger target," was Obi-Wan's pointed response to that.

"Just in height, Master, you've got to stop eating the donuts."

The response he received made Anakin shake his head in bemused wonder. Just how did Obi-Wan manage to look like he was crossing his arms and giving that sorely-tested-master severe look while lying flat on his stomach in a cramped space?

"Brat. It was scones and we were on leave. It was only three pounds. I meant you're the 'poster boy' for the war. Your death will demoralize the entire war effort." Obi-Wan cleared his throat and added softly, "I guess it'll have to be me dying for you, then."

"Ah, Master, I knew you cared." Anakin's hand snaked out and patted Obi-Wan on the shoulder. A swirl of dust rose in the air and gently settled back.

"Shhh."

For long moments neither one barely dared to breathe until the danger passed.

"You're not -?"

"I told you, no, Padawan," Obi-Wan snapped quietly.

"Good. I don't want to die, not with you or for you."

"Padawan, I know we're going to live. I've always said you'll be the death of me, not I the death of us both, so there."

"So there? That the best you can do, old man? My knighting stole your tongue – or your wits?"

"It's the Council's wits I wonder about."

"All of them?"

"Don't give me that innocent tone, young padawan. You need to be a knight far longer than a month to smart mouth the Council, even to your old master."

"I wasn't smart mouthing the entire Council, just one. What makes you question your own wits?"

Obi-Wan rolled onto one shoulder and contemplated his padawan, eyes gleaming back at him. "Perhaps the fact that after all the missions we've been on, they assign you this one – and over my objections, if you must know. You have no idea what's at stake here, Anakin."

"Oh, I do." He'd listened in on the briefing, and shuddered even now with the knowledge of what it would mean if they failed. "Torture."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said softly.

"They shouldn't have sent you, Master." While the Jedi was recovered from his ordeal following his abduction from Jabiim at Asajj Ventress's hands, Anakin still watched his master carefully. His stoic and serene master had been an emotional wreck after his extended torture, but had managed to put it all behind him and release the experience into the Force. It didn't stop Anakin from worrying now.

"If Jabiim taught me anything, it's that I can survive a lot," was Obi-Wan's terse reply. "They didn't want me to come, okay? I insisted. We're a team. I wasn't about to let you face this alone – who'd guard your rear? No, Anakin, if necessary I can survive the ordeal, for the team."

Such selfless love. Anakin blinked back a tear and made a vow right then and there: if they were caught, he'd be sure to step forward and spare his master. The enemy was not so cruel as to make them both suffer, he was pretty sure. Not if the Intel was right.

Beside Anakin, the Jedi master tensed as footsteps came closer. Both men looked at each, trying to fade into the Force and out of detection. This time the footsteps paused and the sound of breathing faintly reached the two hiding Jedi, eyes wide open as each looked at the other.

Should they be discovered – it would be over.

Obi-Wan glared at Anakin as Anakin glared back, the padawan's eyes growing ever so slowly – fearful – as the warning mounted in the Force. Anakin's hand flashed out as Obi-Wan flinched, but he didn't dare protest. As the footsteps slowly receded, Anakin cautiously moved his hand away from his master's face and pulled Obi-Wan's face tight against his shoulder - just in time.

"Achoo!" The muffed sound, then cough, exploded softly into a fabric-covered shoulder. "Anakin!" Or at least that was what the muffled sound sounded something like.

"Master!" The scolding was laced with relief and accusation both.

"Y' nea'ly killed me! An'kin!" While the words still weren't clear, the annoyance lancing through the bond was more than clear. As was the surge of panic.

"Yes, Master?"

"'r yu tying to suffcate me?" It was panic, no doubt about it.

As the muffled words reached him, Anakin realized Obi-Wan was on the verge of passing out and quickly gave the gasping man some air.

"Sorry, Master, but I couldn't let you sneeze, not then."

"So you pinched my nose shut, then you suffocated me!" Obi-Wan's face was tight with the effort to gasp quietly, his chest heaving in an effort to fill his lungs with air.

"I didn't mean to, honestly. But the only way to muffle your sneeze and then gasps for air - ."

"- was to suffocate me."

"Well, it worked, didn't it? And you're alive? So what's the problem?" Anakin grinned, hoping against hope that Obi-Wan would grin back at him. He didn't.

"I almost died!"

"Ah, stop whining. You would have died if I hadn't almost killed you."

"Aha, so you admit it!'

"Fine, I almost killed you." Anakin sighed. Boy, his master could get petulant about being nearly killed, then his lack of gratitude – no, his very smug satisfaction at getting his padawan to admit to - "hey, I also rescued you, so that's another point for me."

"It's not a game, Anakin."

Obi-Wan was right about that, Anakin had to admit in all fairness. The war was not all about playing heroes or getting one's rather pretty face splashed across the holonews – no, war had few rewards and far too much death and dirt. War had taken far too many of his friends; had come close to taking his master. Too close.

On an impulse, he pulled his master close and hugged him. Despite their situation, affection flared in the Force.

"I wasn't about to sneeze again, Anakin," Obi-Wan grumbled. As if he sensed his padawan's thoughts, Anakin could feel him smile against his shoulder. "But perhaps you are?" One arm gently snaked around the padawan's shoulders and squeezed back.

Hey, don't squash my pretty face, Anakin thought, making sure his shields were tight. He didn't want to be reminded of his newest moniker: poster boy for the war. He didn't mind, of course, was rather flattered by it, but it tended to make his master even grumpier. Like Obi-Wan Kenobi would ever be sexy enough to be the face of war – taking a padawan apparently aged one.

No, he patted his hair back into place; no, he wasn't planning on taking a padawan until he was too old to worry about being old.

"At least you would have died at your padawan's side." Anakin hoped he had put enough mournful intonation into the words. "A heroic end for the great General Kenobi."

"Death by sneezing. Heroic indeed."

"I'd've told them it was death by suffocation – more noble, I think," Anakin mused.

"That would be kind of you, Anakin. Once I'm dead, I'm sure I wouldn't care what the circumstances of my death were, but one must keep up the spirits of the troops. Death by sneezing would somewhat dishearten them, I think."

"Master – do you think we'll succeed tonight?"

"The enemy is formidable, Padawan. We might not, but the 'Hero without Fear' is not afraid of the odds, is he?"

"Not of the odds, but of your sneezing. We managed to make it this far. It was far too easy to slip past the guards and infiltrate this place, and then suddenly security tightened. I could have taken that guard, Master, you know I could have."

"Not without raising an alarm. We have no chance to take their commander if he has any inkling of our presence, and capturing him is the mission's sole purpose. The entire war may hinge on our success."

"You really take this seriously, don't you, Obi-Wan? Relax. You weren't even supposed to be on this mission, remember?"

"Let you go alone, not likely," Obi-Wan snorted.

"You don't trust me?"

"If the truth be told," his master looked sideways at him, and muttered unwillingly, "you always come back safe when I'm with you. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you and I wasn't there. Are you happy, now?"

Anakin would be a lot happier if he were home with his wife, just the two of them alone in a big, soft bed getting reacquainted with each other after a long separation. A big grin crossed his face at the mental picture: Padme with her hair undone –

"I guess you are," Obi-Wan broke into his thoughts, misreading the grin on his face, something that Anakin was not about to correct.

Aw, Force, the man looked pleased as punch. He really was an old softie under that stern exterior, especially when the potential for disaster was so high. The Council had actually requested that Obi-Wan not go on this mission, but Obi-Wan had declined their request. For his padawan.

So instead of safe at the Temple, here he was instead, lying next to his padawan in a heap of dust, sneezing his fool head off and almost getting them killed. Force, I could kill him, but then what would be the fun in life without my dear-old-master to muck things up so that his padawan could save the day, Anakin thought fondly.

He clapped his master on the shoulder, raising another cloud of dust. "Yeah, I am." And then his eyes grew wide; the footsteps were approaching again, only there was more than one set of them.

Thunk, thunk. Tap. Thunk, thunk. Tap.

Hoarsely, Anakin whispered, "Obi-Wan?"

"Anakin?"

"Suffocate me, quickly. I think I'm going to – ah, Force. ACHOO!"

Outside, the footsteps stopped and the click of blasters being armed was all too loud. They had been discovered; it was over for them.

"Anakin, I told you that you would be the death of me," Obi-Wan said despairingly. "You know the penalty for being caught."

"I won't be taken without a fight," Anakin vowed, hand moving to his lightsaber's activation switch.

"No, Anakin," Obi-Wan stilled the movement with his own hand. "It's over."

"I'm sorry, Master."

"So am I, Anakin, so am I. Maybe that poster-boy grin of yours and a plea for mercy will save us."

Reaching out in the dark, the two Jedi clasped hands. "We go out together," both said simultaneously.

"See you on the other side."

Light flooded over the two men as their hiding place was revealed. Twenty blasters were trained on them – and one lightsaber. Face to face with the two prone Jedi, a small green being with pointed ears shook its head as the two men raised sheepish eyes to the enemy leader.

"Aha, war games they are over, invaders captured they are." Yoda's twinkling eyes greeted them. "The penalty you will face. Sentence to be carried out immediately."

"Torture." Obi-Wan shuddered. The fear on his face was heartbreaking.

"Will we be shot at dawn?" Anakin asked, hopefully, hoping his alternative would be accepted instead. He couldn't allow Obi-Wan to be tortured, he just couldn't.

"No, penalty as agreed, my stew you must eat." Yoda brought a pot from behind his back and offered a spoonful to the two captives.

"Obi-Wan." Anakin turned despairing eyes to his former master. "You're the master of words – please, can you talk him into shooting us at dawn instead? It's less cruel."

It was too late. One whiff, and Obi-Wan had fainted dead away.

The spoon advanced towards Anakin. For Obi-Wan! He did the only thing he could. After a quick gulp, he fainted, too.

As Obi-Wan would have been willing to do, he had done: he had taken one for the team.