Title: Pillow Talk

Author: pronker

Rating: PG

Characters: Obi-Wan, Anakin

Genre: Drama. Slash. Obidala.

Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas and do not make money from fanfiction.

Time: Just after the rescue on Invisible Hand.

Summary: Anakin and Obi-Wan need each other to decompress after missions.

A/N: A possible permutation to Obi-Wan's "Anakin is the father, isn't he. I'm so sorry."

IOIOIOIOIO

Their bed creaked as Anakin turned over, sated at last.

"Anakin."

Oh, stang, he wanted to talk. "Mm-hmm."

"When did you first know?"

"Not until this morning."

"And you still want us, like this?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

''I wouldn't have been down there, doing that, if I didn't want the same. But it's different now that she's pregnant." The afternoon sun claimed their faces in shadows as it slanted through the slats in the blinds. They had had merely two hours before their debriefing. How rushed and hot and anxious everything had been, brief sloppy kisses and disarranged clothing and hurried touches. The endorphins had helped Obi-Wan's headache, he claimed, while Anakin needed something, anything, to free his mind of Dooku's lackluster dead eyes. This interlude with Obi-Wan had been just the distraction he needed. But now Obi-Wan wanted to talk.

"We've got twenty minutes to make good use of and I intend to nap. Talk later." But he knew it was a lost cause. He might as well be involved in Coruscant's clean-up squad after Grievous' sortie. If he listened hard enough with the Force, he could hear the rumble of heavy equipment in Nicandra Plaza.

"I like her, you know."

"I know. She resembles you, talks all the time."

"Poser. No, really, I like her and I want the best for her. Is she quite healthy for this condition?"

Anakin lay flat again and pulled Obi-Wan close enough to smell his sweaty hair. "Sure. No problems that I'm aware of. Why?"

"She's very petite."

"She'll grow into it. Ow! What was that for?"

"This is serious."

"I know it's serious! I'm the father! But you've lectured about the Living Force forever to me. Why don't you trust it?"

Obi-Wan continued to stare up at the ceiling, counting dust motes in the lazy stir of afternoon air, Anakin supposed. "It can let you down. I mean to say, that it can be interpreted in ways that you don't expect and what seems to be clear, isn't. Sometimes it's like a magnet, pulling you to events --- or people --- that you never thought you'd be drawn to and like." He rolled away from Anakin's loose embrace. "And then a situation takes over and like turns into something else, ephemeral even though it was."

"You're being even more cryptic than usual, Obi-Wan. You're tired. Come on, close your eyes." Anakin spooned against his former and forever Master. "Sleep now."

"Would it bother you if I visited her?"

"Nah, I'm all for friendship. I'm going there tonight, though, so make it some other time, all right?"

Obi-Wan fiddled with the clasps on Anakin's glove. "Certainly. Hold me?"

"Always."

Obi-Wan slept then, but Anakin stayed awake backdating and comparing whereabouts for the next twenty minutes.

IOIOIOIOIO

The End.