There’s a hitch in his plans.

An unforeseen one that he had not
expected and had no way to fix.

Geonosis had been an unfortunate wake
up call not only for the Jedi and the Republic, but for him too
because it had made it clear to him how much he actually cared for
Obi-Wan. He cared for the boy.

His boy.

His only boy.

Skywalker had lost a limb yet it was
Obi-Wan he worried for, outright worried.

“I believe I gave you a direct order
Darth Tyranus.” He murmured quietly, stroking his chin slowly.
“Kenobi was not to be harmed in any manner. And certainly not in a
public execution display.” He watched Dooku shift, rage slithering
beneath his skin as he contemplated choking the other to death or
snap his neck outright. Alas he did need the count still.

“He showed up unexpected, I let the
Geonos-”

Sheev clenched his hand shut, cutting
of the others air supply for a few precious seconds. “You are the
‘leader’ of this little rebellion.” He hissed. “Control the
fraction or I wi-”

“Father?”

Sheev stood, letting go of his
apprentice even as he shut the holo off.

The Jedi stood there, framed by the
door and looking ever so unsure, still obviously struggling between
what he knew was wrong and the bonds he had created to Sheev as he
glanced at the holo. Obi-Wan had to be stupid not to know what was
going on, not to suspect anything but Sheev had done his job when
Obi-Wan had still been fragile from the loss of his master, had
become the one person in the galaxy the other could confine in.

“Obi-Wan. You are well?” Sheev
moved to him, reaching out in a gesture that had become familiar
through the years.

Obi-Wan allowed the hand to curl around
the nape of his neck and to be pulled forward until he could rest his
forehead on the others shoulder, fingers gently petting the long
strands of the nape of the neck. “Yes. Bacta is doing wonders for
the lightsaber wounds.” He murmured.

“Indeed. I apologies Obi-Wan, if I
had known…well…” Sheev let the words linger in the air. What
would he have done?

Would he have told Obi-Wan to stay
away?

Would he have told him what was going
on?

Obi-Wan just made a low noise even as
Sheev grip on his nape became ever so slightly possessive as he
thought about the others death.

This was bad, he was sending Jedi to
war and there was no way Sheev could protect the other. He could
issue orders to Dooku of course, the man knew better then to disobey
direct ones but the rest of the CSI…

Saber callused hands twisted themselves
into the Chancellors robes. “They want me to be a councilor.” His
boy whispered.

Sheev blinked slowly, several ideas to
his advantage coming and going in a flash. “Indeed?”

“…I’m frightened.” The copper
haired man whispered, sounding shamed for admitting it. “I
don’t…think I can do it. I don’t…feel like a master.”

“Shhh, its alright.” Sheev
whispered quietly, reaching out with his other hand and pulling the
other close in a slight embrace. Had it been anyone but flesh and
blood he held, the hug would have been calculated but all Sheev
wanted to do, amazingly, was to provide comfort for the man shaking
in his arms. “You are a grand Jedi.”

There were moments where he wanted to
curse Qui-Gon Jinn and the Order for the sole reason of Obi-Wan, who
was clearly broken before Sheev had sunk his talons into him. Unsure,
self loathing, broken. Frightened and lost with the need to find
shelter from the storm that had wrecked his life and uprooted him

Such an easy target at the time, Sheev
had ignored all the tender implications. Now?

Now Sheev needed to…

He needed to protect a Jedi of all
things.

He stroked the others nape, the touch a
fraction gentler then before even as Obi-Wan made no response.

Exhaustion was thrummed through him,
despair he was barely releasing into the Force, confusion and the
ever present feeling of self doubt.

“Perhaps you should rest. You’re
welcome to the couch as always Obi-Wan.” Sheev murmured quietly.

It takes a few moments before Obi-Wan
pulls away enough to look at the couch then at Sheev before he nods
and moves to it, settling down and pulling the familiar blanket over
himself after removing his boots.

The Sith in disguise takes the moment
to sit back down at his desk, hitting the buttons that lowers the
light of his office while sending a message to Mas Amedda that he’s
not to be disturbed.

He’s not sure what his son really
thinks of everything, conflicted for sure, torn between the loyalty
he has always given the Jedi…and the loyalty Sheev has earned.

What matters is that he is asleep on
Sheev’s couch more quickly then anyone can imagine, his soft
breathing filling the air.

There’s a hitch in his plans.

An unforeseen one that he had not
expected and had no way to fix.

Geonosis had been an unfortunate wake
up call not only for the Jedi and the Republic, but for him too
because it had made it clear to him how much he actually cared for
Obi-Wan. He cared for the boy.

His boy.

His only boy.

Skywalker had lost a limb yet it was
Obi-Wan he worried for, outright worried.

“I believe I gave you a direct order
Darth Tyranus.” He murmured quietly, stroking his chin slowly.
“Kenobi was not to be harmed in any manner. And certainly not in a
public execution display.” He watched Dooku shift, rage slithering
beneath his skin as he contemplated choking the other to death or
snap his neck outright. Alas he did need the count still.

“He showed up unexpected, I let the
Geonos-”

Sheev clenched his hand shut, cutting
of the others air supply for a few precious seconds. “You are the
‘leader’ of this little rebellion.” He hissed. “Control the
fraction or I wi-”

“Father?”

Sheev stood, letting go of his
apprentice even as he shut the holo off.

The Jedi stood there, framed by the
door and looking ever so unsure, still obviously struggling between
what he knew was wrong and the bonds he had created to Sheev as he
glanced at the holo. Obi-Wan had to be stupid not to know what was
going on, not to suspect anything but Sheev had done his job when
Obi-Wan had still been fragile from the loss of his master, had
become the one person in the galaxy the other could confine in.

“Obi-Wan. You are well?” Sheev
moved to him, reaching out in a gesture that had become familiar
through the years.

Obi-Wan allowed the hand to curl around
the nape of his neck and to be pulled forward until he could rest his
forehead on the others shoulder, fingers gently petting the long
strands of the nape of the neck. “Yes. Bacta is doing wonders for
the lightsaber wounds.” He murmured.

“Indeed. I apologies Obi-Wan, if I
had known…well…” Sheev let the words linger in the air. What
would he have done?

Would he have told Obi-Wan to stay
away?

Would he have told him what was going
on?

Obi-Wan just made a low noise even as
Sheev grip on his nape became ever so slightly possessive as he
thought about the others death.

This was bad, he was sending Jedi to
war and there was no way Sheev could protect the other. He could
issue orders to Dooku of course, the man knew better then to disobey
direct ones but the rest of the CSI…

Saber callused hands twisted themselves
into the Chancellors robes. “They want me to be a councilor.” His
boy whispered.

Sheev blinked slowly, several ideas to
his advantage coming and going in a flash. “Indeed?”

“…I’m frightened.” The copper
haired man whispered, sounding shamed for admitting it. “I
don’t…think I can do it. I don’t…feel like a master.”

“Shhh, its alright.” Sheev
whispered quietly, reaching out with his other hand and pulling the
other close in a slight embrace. Had it been anyone but flesh and
blood he held, the hug would have been calculated but all Sheev
wanted to do, amazingly, was to provide comfort for the man shaking
in his arms. “You are a grand Jedi.”

There were moments where he wanted to
curse Qui-Gon Jinn and the Order for the sole reason of Obi-Wan, who
was clearly broken before Sheev had sunk his talons into him. Unsure,
self loathing, broken. Frightened and lost with the need to find
shelter from the storm that had wrecked his life and uprooted him

Such an easy target at the time, Sheev
had ignored all the tender implications. Now?

Now Sheev needed to…

He needed to protect a Jedi of all
things.

He stroked the others nape, the touch a
fraction gentler then before even as Obi-Wan made no response.

Exhaustion was thrummed through him,
despair he was barely releasing into the Force, confusion and the
ever present feeling of self doubt.

“Perhaps you should rest. You’re
welcome to the couch as always Obi-Wan.” Sheev murmured quietly.

It takes a few moments before Obi-Wan
pulls away enough to look at the couch then at Sheev before he nods
and moves to it, settling down and pulling the familiar blanket over
himself after removing his boots.

The Sith in disguise takes the moment
to sit back down at his desk, hitting the buttons that lowers the
light of his office while sending a message to Mas Amedda that he’s
not to be disturbed.

He’s not sure what his son really
thinks of everything, conflicted for sure, torn between the loyalty
he has always given the Jedi…and the loyalty Sheev has earned.

What matters is that he is asleep on
Sheev’s couch more quickly then anyone can imagine, his soft
breathing filling the air.