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It’s not that Obi-Wan has never smiled before - he has, of course he has, he smiles at teapots if the mood strikes him - just that he never smiles like that. Like he’s truly, completely, overwhelmingly happy. Like his world is complete. Anakin’s known his Master for years, they’re closer than brothers, but this is something beyond his frame of reference. It’s a mystery, and like all good mysteries, it demands Anakin drop everything he’s doing to get to the bottom of it.
It’s not a new holo, at least a good fifteen years old, and no one knows where it comes from, just that it pops up on one of the trashier news outlets right after a slew of anti-war propaganda posts. It’s mistaken for something new, a not-candid-candid released to combat the wave of negativity that’s been pouring from the general public the past few months.
Then someone points out that General Kenobi, arguably the most famous face of the war efforts, still has his Padawan braid and can’t be much more than eighteen.
Which is about the time everyone loses their collective shit.
“I mean, it is him, right?”
“Has to be.”
“Yeah but how?”
“Well see, when two people like each other very much-”
“Oh shut your face, you know what I mean!”
“You knew him, sir, is it Jango?”
“No more gossip. Get back to work.”
“Sir!”
Obi-Wan remains blissfully ignorant of the image’s existance, far too preoccupied with fighting a war to pay attention to the trivialities of public media. If something credible shows up on the holonet, GAR Intelligence will let him know. Anakin knows because his Master has a habit of attracting unwanted attention from complete strangers, and because he’s perfectly capable of doing his job and finding ways to torment his Master - or protect him from would-be tormentors. And by this point he’s pretty sure Obi-Wan worries if he isn’t up to something.
Ahsoka knows because Anakin apparently lacks the emotional maturity to deal with things like this alone and because she’s even more of a gossip than he is.
Cody knows because he’s Cody, and Rex knows because Cody nearly has a heart attack when he first sees it.
And the rest of the GAR know because if there’s one thing more efficient than Cody’s drills, it’s the gossip mill.
“Far be it from me to expect everyone to pay attention, but is something troubling you, Ahsoka?”
Anakin is trying - and failing - to hold crisis talks with Cody and Rex before the game is up and Obi-Wan realizes they know about...
Well, he doesn’t know what they know about, just that they now know it. And Obi-Wan will know it too very soon.
The sound of Obi-Wan’s arrival is masked by Cody’s hushed threats to find whoever released the image and have them killed painfully, and Rex’s enthusiastic volunteering for the job. Ahsoka, who is staring at the image with the wide-eyed gaze of someone who still can’t believe what they are seeing, jumps and drops her holodisk onto the floor.
Obi-Wan, ever chivalrous, bends to collect if for her. “My apologies, Ahsoka, I did not mean to startle y-” his eyes widen as they skim across the surface of the holo. “Where in the Force did you find this?” he asks, a tentative hand reaching for the digital faces in front of him, then falling, unfulfilled, to his side.
Ahsoka looks pointedly at Anakin. Far more pointedly than is probably right for a Padawan to look at their Master. Obi-Wan might say it’s the Force providing the world with some much-needed balance but Anakin knows he wasn’t that much of a brat when he was Ahsoka’s...
Obi-Wan might have a point.
“Who took it?” he asks instead of answering. He does remember some of the diplomatic training his poor Master tried so very hard to spoon-feed him. Some. And if you don’t want to answer something, you ask a question of your own.
Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, a sidelong look making it clear Anakin has failed in an attempt to be sly about the shift in subject.
Still, he allows it. Which... weird.
“Satine. Not that I knew it at the time.”
“And that’s-” Anakin can’t help but look at Rex and Cody, who are both making attempts to not look like they are clinging to every word Obi-Wan is saying. Cody’s managing it far better than Rex.
Obi-Wan looks up from the image, his expression so soft. “Jango Fett? Yes.”
Okay! So that’s an actual thing! More than a thing because yeah that’s Obi-Wan, eighteen if he’s a day, short, spikey red hair and freckles and a smile wider than anything Anakin has ever seen on him before.
And that is Jango Fett, barely any older, his dark hair long and curly, a softness to him that’s not physical, but -
And Obi-Wan isn’t wearing Jedi robes! He’s wearing armor. Mandalorian armor.
And! And this is the real kicker; Jango has his arm draped possessively across Obi-Wan’s shoulder, his hand tucked around his chest. Their heads are pressed together in a way that speaks of far more intimacy than Obi-Wan’s likely capable of expressing. And though their attention is caught by something off to one side, Jango is pressing a kiss to the side of Obi-Wan’s brow.
Jango Fett, bounty hunter and notorious Jedi hater, is cuddling Anakin’s teenage Master, and... and...
Obi-Wan looks so happy.
“Breathe, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says mildly. He spares Anakin that attention, but he’s mostly fixed on Rex and Cody. “Are you alright?”
Neither of them seems to know how to answer.
“How? When? How?!” Anakin splutters.
“I’m positive I don’t need to explain the mechanics of it to you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says dryly. “As for when, well, you do know that I spent a year on Mandalore in my youth.”
“Protecting Duchess Satine,” Ahsoka says brightly. Snips has a soft spot for Obi-Wan’s... not girlfriend?
“That’s right,” Obi-Wan nods. He touches Cody’s elbow, worry turning his usual exasperation into softhearted concern. “Jango was the sole survivor of Galidraan, betrayed by Death Watch and sold into slavery. During our extensive and exhaustive tour of Mandalore-”
“Where everyone tried to kill you,” Anakin adds helpfully. Obi-Wan leaves all the best parts out of his stories.
His Master’s lip curls. “Yes, precisely. Well, I ran into a spot of bother with one of the clans, and, well, long story short is that Jango and I ended up chained together in one of the mining facilities on Concordia. He was, as I’m sure you can understand, not entirely thrilled to be shackled to a Jedi, but we found common ground in our mutual desire to escape.”
That’s a very tactful and delicate way of describing what was likely a deeply traumatic experience, but leave it to Obi-Wan to make the plot of a bad holomovie sound boring and uneventful.
A Mandalorian outcast, chained to a Jedi Padawan? Forced to overcome their differences in order to find their freedom?
Anakin knows he’s read exactly this kind of trashy pulp fiction before.
“That’s so romantic,” Ahsoka sighs dreamily.
“He did try to strangle me in my sleep a few times,” Obi-Wan says with an insanely inappropriate amount of fondness, “but I suppose it was.”
“Wait,” something in Obi-Wan’s far away gaze flips the mood from a curiously gleeful fact-finding mission to something... more. “Did you love him?”
Cody and Rex, who have been silent and stone-faced this whole time, both flinch.
The exasperation seeps back into Obi-Wan’s voice, but it’s not enough to rob him of that soft, wistful look in his eyes. “I was eighteen, he was very handsome, and would pick a fight with me about everything,” he says, “of course I did.” A weary sigh chases away the youthful joy in his expression, replacing it with something heavy and laced with regret. “Satine took great delight in setting us off and I am certain Master Qui-Gon added fuel to the fire every chance he got. This,” he gestures at the holo, “was taken shortly before Satine’s coronation. She and Jango had wildly opposing ideas of how a future Mandalore would look, and while he was able to ignore my position as a Jedi when we were running for our lives, it became much harder to do so when I returned to my role as a peacekeeper.”
Anakin looks at the image of Obi-Wan’s smiling, happy face and moves his attention up towards Jango’s. It’s not hard to imagine those adoring eyes turning to hate. Not when he knows what Jango went on to do. It’s not even hard to imagine how they might’ve looked when Obi-Wan picked the Jedi over whatever it was they had, but -
But Obi-Wan said he loved him.
“He lost his people, his whole way of life, and spent years suffering for the mistakes that Jedi made,” Obi-Wan’s voice holds no hint of blame or recrimination. “I couldn’t be what he wanted, nor could I give him what he needed.” That fond expression falls on Cody and Rex. “I’ll admit to being surprised by the direction he chose to go in, but it certainly gave him the family he so desperately wanted.”
“He was going to watch you die,” Cody growls. “I read the report.” Cody’s one of the oldest clones, one of the very early batches, one of the ones who spent the most time learning from Jango. One of the ones who might, perhaps, think of the mercenary as his father.
“He had Boba to think about,” Obi-Wan shakes his head, brushing away Cody’s concern. “I would never begrudge him for putting his son first. Besides, I like to think he would have stepped in at the last minute and saved the day, just to hold it over me.”
Anakin doubts it, he doubts it a lot. But he can’t bring himself to steal that smile from Obi-Wan’s face, not when it is a mere shadow of what it could be. Not now he understands why.
If Jango had asked, would Obi-Wan have left the Order?
It’s a question that comes with consequences stretching far beyond the fate of Mandalore and the creation of the clone army.
Could he really have loved someone enough to leave the Jedi behind? Could he understand the ways Anakin’s heart is torn between love and duty? Maybe? Maybe...
He’s terrified of asking. Terrified of the answer.
“I’m sorry,” Rex says gruffly. He doesn’t seem to know where to look, a desolate, lost expression on his face that doesn’t belong anywhere near Anakin’s fearless Captain.
This isn’t funny anymore.
Obi-Wan startles. “For what?”
Rex’s swallow is audible. “It must be... difficult, for you. Seeing us.”
And Anakin hadn’t even thought of that. How would he cope if he had to work with an army of Padme’s clones?
He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t cope. He’d certainly not be able to send them into battle. He’d not be able to keep his sanity and his heart intact watching beings with her face die over and over on his orders.
To his surprise, Obi-Wan chuckles. “Not at all. You and your brothers bring me great joy. And besides,” his smile grows, just a little, “you might have Jango’s face but you’re all very different people. Although you do have his reckless streak,” he lays a hand on Rex’s shoulder, then looks at Cody, “and you, dear Commander, are possibly even more stubborn.”
“More stubborn than I am?” Anakin asks, unable to help himself from pulling Ahsoka just that little bit closer.
“No one is more stubborn than you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says with a very put-upon sigh, the kind that makes it sound like he’s both eternally grateful and a little sad that Anakin and Jango never met.
“I could try,” Ahsoka offers earnestly.
“Thank you, Ahsoka, but there is no need. We need to let Anakin have something at which he excels.”
He knows Obi-Wan is teasing him, but that doesn’t make his spluttering any less real. “Laugh it up, Master, but you’ve basically just outed yourself as step-father to the entire GAR.”
He can’t decide if Rex’s wide eyes or Cody’s undisguised panic is funnier. Then Obi-Wan says, “Oh dear, Master Plo will be upset,” and he can’t help but laugh.
“Good luck explaining that one to the Council, Master,” he says dryly. Mace’s face is probably going to crack.
“What makes you think they don’t already know?”
That their poster boy golden child was... involved... with a Jedi hating bounty hunter who cloned himself a few million times? No way. No way!
“Wait, what?”