Titolo: Three times Obi Wan Kenobi and Satine Kryze meet by chance, and one they meet by intention.
Fandom: Star Wars - Clone Wars
Personaggi: Obi Wan Kenobi, Satine Kryze
Warning: modern AU, missing moments in time
Prompt: troppo tardi
Note: scritta per il CoW-T, M3. Vorrei riuscire a spiegare a parole quanto poco mi importa che questa storia sia poco plausibile, perché davvero il cazzo che me ne frega è immenso.
Three times Obi Wan Kenobi and Satine Kryze meet by chance, and one they meet by intention.
The first time that Obi Wan Kenobi e Satine Kryze meet, he saves her life.
It’s not as big of a thing as it sounds, he catches her with his hand as she trips over the border of the street, preventing her to fall under a bus. It’s something anyone would have done, but he’s not anyone and she knows the exact moment their eyes meet.
“Thank you,” she says, smiling at the man.
“It was nothing.” He replied. “Are you okay, Madame?”
He’s so British and stern and Satine bursts into a laugh.
“Yes, yes, I’m perfectly fine, I just tripped over those stupid heels.”
He smiles back, his eyes are kind and his touch is gentle.
“Quite elegant, indeed, but apparently not as comfortable”.
“No, definitely not,” she laughs again, and this time he lets her go, realising his hands are still on her waist and his arm is still draped around her back.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. My name is Obi Wan Kenobi, at your service”.
“Quite charming Mr. Kenobi, I’m Satine Kryze. Would you like to escort me to that building at the end of the street? I have a hearing in about thirty minutes”.
“God forbid you’d fall again,” he smiles, “so what are you an innocent victim or a charming lawyer?”
“Neither.” Satine smirks, taking the man arm, “I’m the judge.”
He nods in approval, and starts walking in the direction she pointed out. He asks her about her day and about her studies and her work and feels like he cares as no one before. When they arrive in front of the main entrance he takes her hand and kisses it; it’s retro and awkward, but he’s clearly a gentleman and he means no harm. Satine stares as he slowly walks away, disappearing in the crowd walking on the street; she can still feel on the back of her hand the soft smile formed by his lips.
She wishes she could meet him again.
When they meet again is in a court room, it’s been six months since their last – or maybe first - encounter.
Obi Wan is the detective working on the case, he is testifying for the prosecutor office and he’s as dashing as she remembers him. He has a beard now, it’s strawberry blonde, and perfectly shaped, she likes it.
He behaves perfectly, he doesn’t even look at her and it looks like they never met.
Satines thinks he has forgot, which is possible and understandable, because it was just one time and they just shared a walk and some words.
But at the end of the day he’s waiting for her out of the building, his jacket in his hands, the last rays of the sun shine over his face. Obi Wan smiles as he sees her and takes one step in her direction, just one.
“I was hoping I could talk to you”.
“About the case?” She inquires.
“No, about whatever you want. I was actually thinking about dinner, if you don’t have any prior plans”.
“This is a bit sudden,” she smiles, getting closer, “but I think I can manage the unexpected”.
It’s just a dinner and nothing more, there is the lingering knowledge that what they are doing is not allowed. Well, it’s not exactly something prohibited, it’s more that the unspoken rules of their respective jobs advice against it, because it could be unprofessional, it could be risky, it could be a lot of things. Mostly negative things.
They decide to ignore the voices – the inner voices, those telling them that maybe it’s not a good idea – and they head towards the restaurant.
Satine laughs and talks, and Obi Wan stares in awe, charmed by her personality, by her voice, by her wits. He decides he likes the spark in her eyes, the soft tone of her words, the way she moves her hair from her face, the thin shape of her nose. He likes Satine. He’s not sorry for that.
The third time they meet it’s a sunny day, outside is hot and the city crawls with people and noises and music.
They bump into each other casually and they smile as they recognize the respective faces. It’s fate or destiny, or maybe just a coincidence, but neither of them believe in coincidences and it’s much more pleasant to think that there is a meaning in their constant encounters.
“I was just thinking I was having the worst day ever, apparently, I was wrong,” he says, offering her his arm for a walk.
“I’m glad to be considered a pleasant surprise”.
“Always. You know, I was hoping to meet you again.”
“It seems like wishing is all we need to meet.”
Satine laughs and Obi Wan smiles, reaching for her hand. There is something he has been wanting to tell her, because he feels like he needs to, he wants to.
“I have something coming up a work and I might be gone for a while,” he’s not smiling anymore.
“Can you tell me about it?”
“Bits and pieces, if you are willing to listen.”
And of course she is, because she has grown attached to that man, she likes him although she doesn’t quite know him. And as he explains and talks to her about the undercover mission he is going to participate in for the next few, what? Months? Years? There’s sadness in her eyes, and Obi Wan’s smile is reflecting the same feeling. A feeling of emptiness and lost chances. Because that’s what he is talking about, that’s what going away really means, it means missed opportunities and solitary walks and no more random encounters.
When he is done talking, Satine is not smiling anymore.
“Will I see you again?” she asks.
“I surely hope so,” he answers, kissing her gently on the top of her hand.
There isn’t a fourth time, not for a long time.
It’s not that they don’t wish to meet again. Obi Wan leaves for his undercover mission and for a while she thinks he’s dead.
It’s been two years since that dinner date, when on a Sunday morning someone knocks on her door – and who still knows when there’s a doorbell? Satine rolls her eyes the exact moment she looks through the peephole, she opens the door and she scoffs right in his face
“How did you even found me?” she asks, she’s not please.
“I’m deeply sorry for this, but I couldn’t just start again without an explanation.”
She doesn’t understand, not sure what he means by any of this, but Obi Wan is handing her a letter and she has no reason to refuse. He smiles faintly as she takes it and slowly walks away. He limps slightly, dragging the left leg with a certain effort.
The letter is handwritten, it’s a long explanation of an undercover mission, it’s the story of a man who lost more than he wishes to admit, that had seen his life being swept away by fate, force, violence. It’s a story of pain and violence and grief. Satine is not please, she is also not angry.
There’s a small address written at the bottom of the letter, next to the last sentence: Had you said the word, I would have let the department.
Satine sighs and slowly puts the letter down, sitting on a chair.
She shouldn’t, but she really wants a second chance before it’s too late, besides there’s no point in denying it: she had loved him from the moment he first come to her aid all those years ago.
She storms out of the door, the letter close to her heart as she runs to catch the bus. The city has never been so big before.
“I wasn’t really expecting to see you.”
Satine smiles, standing on his doorstep; her cheeks are red and there’s a veil of embarrassment, covering her eyes. Obi Wan takes her hand, as he had done once on a sunny day.
“After all these years, you're even more beautiful than ever.”