Title: Lesson Assignments
Disclaimer: Not mine, it's all George's.
Setting: Between TPM and AOTC, Ani is about 18
Summary: Frustrating lesson assignments and Obi-Wan at the end. Slashy Obi-Ani
He was going to kill Jocasta Nu.
Because that was just the type of mood he was in.
And he was going to do this because his frustrations were starting to border on homicidal and once on homicidal nothing could turn him back down. The old woman was completely infuriating in Anakin's quest. The references he needed for the stupidest essay in the entire history of his Padawan lessons continued to elude him and no amount of reassurance from Nu that yes, they were there, would do anything about it. The information he needed just simply wasn't there.
He had looked.
Oh yes, how he had looked.
He found topics that weren't related at all to his topic, and the information he did have completely blew off his theory to concentrate on one that was done by all the men in his topic region together. It wasn't what he was looking for.
Turning on his heel, Anakin stopped caring that his emotions were scaring the younglings away from him and causing the elder Jedi to give him pointed looks. He didn't care. He stalked out of the Jedi Archives, cloak swirling at his angry pace, and set a course back to his shared quarters with his Master.
He was done.
He was finished searching for something that did not exist. No matter how much Nu or his instructors said it was there. It just wasn't. And he was in no mood to look any more. His anger, frustration, and more than frequent swearing in Huttese would do him no good while trying to procure something so stupid.
Padawan classes were stupid.
Obi-Wan could teach him all he needed to know about being a Jedi. He didn't have to sit through boring Galactic Politics and Lit to know how to use a lightsabre. And who cared if part of being a Jedi was to listen to politicians bitch. With his emotions, it wasn't like he would make a good and impartial negotiator anyway. He was a warrior. He didn't need any of this.
Stupid, obscure bantha poodoo.
Dark thoughts continued to circulate around Anakin, and by the time he reached the entrance to his apartment, he was clenching the datapad in his hand so tightly that when he entered, he pulled back his arm and flung it across the room, splitting as it hit the opposite wall.
It deserved it.
"Did that datapad offend you in some way Anakin?"
Anakin started. He hadn't even sensed Obi-Wan in their apartment.
"It, I...nothing's there."
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow as his Padawan turned away and made an aggravated sound.
"What's not there?"
"Anything. Everything! Nothing I need for some stupid paper, why do I have to go through this?" Anakin crumpled to the ground in a heap, shoulders slumping. "I hate research."
Smiling slightly, Obi-Wan set his tea down and moved towards Anakin. The anger around him cleared to simmer around his now pouting edges. Still frustrated, he sat in frustrated defeat, mulling over what had thus far eluded him and yet seemed to find the other Padawans with no problem whatsoever. He should have chosen a different topic. Why did he feel the need for a challenge in the classroom this time around?
He moaned lightly as he felt Obi-Wan's arms wrap around him. The familiar act of comfort made him melt into the older man's embrace as he wrapped his own arm's around Obi-Wan's waist.
What was it about Obi-Wan that could completely quash all of Anakin's homicidal urgings?
Hugging his Master tighter, he let himself relax. His frustration was still lingering, as it would be until he found what he was looking for, but now, maybe it was time for a little break.
"You'll find what you're looking for, it's just hiding on you now."
Anakin felt Obi-Wan's lips on his forhead and tilted his head back to catch them with his own.
Lips of Obi-Wan.
Nothing tasted sweeter in the galaxy. The redberry tea he had been drinking earlier still clung to his mouth, letting a ripe tartness cling to Anakin's tongue.
"You were talking about research," said Obi-Wan smiling and quickly pecking Anakin's lips with his own.
Anakin let out an annoyed little huff. He didn't want to go over assignments, he wanted to go over Obi-Wan. But of course his apprenticeship had to come first. They had compromised. He couldn't wait until he was Knighted, if only just to throw Obi-Wan onto the bed or over a table without being asked about his lessons. He'd show Obi-Wan lessons.
"Don't want to talk about it."
"You broke a datapad."
"It's just some stupid things that I need in some dumb essay...do I have to do it? You can write me a note saying I'm sick or have contracted an incurable disease and that I'm dying or something."
"No, I can't. And what happens when you magically get better?"
"Anakin, you need to relax. Calm down and go about his rationally."
"I was...at first."
"Go back to it later. Take a break now and we'll go look in the morning. How about that?"
Anakin nodded into Obi-Wan's shoulder. "I did find some but they weren't in Basic. The Force hates me."
"It doesn't hate you."
"Then it would have led me to some damn references."
A/N: I wrote this near the beginning of November, my psych essay was giving me so much trouble in the form of journal articles. We had to summarize three of them and tie them into our subject. I couldn't find any for Eysenck's Trait Theory and it was driving me insane. Everything I found was either unavailable or in German and Spanish. Even when I found some, I couldn't really understand what they were about. Why can't people just say what they mean without fancy words? It reminded me of philosophy. So anyway, my frustration got channeled into this story. It really helped and it gave you all something to read as I go procrastinate my Archaeology essay. I'm half done though! Can't wait until December. No more essays!