"I'm here to see General Kenobi," you snap as soon as you're through the door. One of the soldiers lounging around scrambles to his feet, saluting you sharply as he tugs on his tunic. "Kenobi is sleeping right now, General--" he starts, eyes widening in shock as you stride towards the door anyway. "I'm sorry, General, but you can't go in there."

"And why not?" Raising an eyebrow you glance at the two guards on either side of the door. Both of them look suitably nervous about having denied one General access to another--but you pause nonetheless in case there is a good reason. "I don't remember there being guards here before."

"The General is sleeping," the other guard inserts desperately, his eyes rolling towards the door as he shifts nervously. "He didn't get a break for three straight shifts--and we kind of decided to post ourselves out here to make sure no one bothered him."

"So he didn't tell you to keep everyone out?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Not exactly . . ."

"And still you decided to deny a General access to his quarters?" you question, your eyes sharp.

As one the guards step aside, both saluting. "Our pardons, Sir. We are protective of him."

"I'm not going to hurt him," you murmur with a soft smile, and for a moment you're sure you see one of them blush.

::When did they start letting blushing greenies into the field?:: you think to yourself, waving a hand at the man who stands to open the door for you. "At ease. I'll let myself in."

You do just that, slipping inside the door and letting it close behind you. For a moment you let your senses adjust to the dark, eyes darting around the common room to find the door that leads the General's bedroom.

A soft noise from behind the door on the left catches your attention, and you follow the sound, drawing up to the partially opened door and peeking inside.

The sight before you freezes you where you stand. The General is in bed, but he certainly doesn't seem to be sleeping. He is gloriously naked, one arm tossed above his head in an abandoned sprawl, the other . . .

With a gulp you try to draw away, knowing in your heart that you should not be watching General Kenobi in the act of pleasuring himself. Hard as you try to move, however, your body stays transfixed, eyes fastened to the long fingers wrapped around the generous erection.

He is glorious, stretched out in reckless abandon. On the bridge he is always all officer, his business like jacket and loose fitting pants doing little to draw attention to the form that he was hiding underneath it.

Muscle--pure golden muscle stretched whipcord thin over a beautiful frame. The muscles play under his skin as he writhes sensuously in the sheets, body rocking gently as his hand slides slowly up and down his length.

Used to seeing him as a comrade, another mind, it is shocking to see him like this--to see him as purely male. You can't help but let your eyes wander down his powerful thighs, legs that are sliding slowly against the bed as his hand continues it's slow movement.

The soft moan that escapes his lips makes you jump guiltily, staring over your shoulder as if someone is going to come in and catch you watching something which you most definitely should not be.

Another moan, louder, brings your attention back to the bed. His narrow hips are thrusting up in languid circles now, his feet planted on the bed and knees bent to give him better leverage. You swallow convulsively, mouth going dry, as you watch his back arch of the bed slightly, his hips thrusting into the air, into the fist that closes convulsively around his straining length.

His other hand has traveled up to the low headboard, strong fingers curling around in a white-knuckled grip as he continues to thrust up into his hand. His low moans are building steadily, head lolling on his neck as his entire body starts to rock with an ever increasing rhythm. Your eyes are transfixed to those long fingers, imagining a thousand unspeakable things that they could be doing to you--

--imagining a thousand unspeakable things that you could be doing to him.

You can see his fist tightening, hear the muffled groans as the hips begin to snap up off of the bed. You are struck by the sudden realization of exactly what will happen if you are caught here when he gains completion and begins to register the real world again. Explaining why you stood by the door and watched him would be awkward at best, and would most likely destroy any chance of a working relationship.

Body strumming with reaction you slowly back up, unable to break your eyes away from the sight before you even as you stumble backwards across the room. You turn at the door, hearing his faint moans of completion, a flush coming to your face as your body aches in need.

You manage to compose your face before facing the two guards outside, but you can tell by their mocking looks that the flush in your cheeks is still obvious. "He didn't look like he should be disturbed," you say, keeping your voice business like. "Tell him I stopped by. We need to discuss mission strategy."

One of them nods at you, a ghost of a grin across his face. "As you wish," he says with a crisp salute. Trying desperately to save face you nod, spinning on your heel and striding confidently towards your own quarters.

The minute the door slides closed behind your trembling body you fall into your bed, curling up on your side and pressing fingers to your eyes. The image of his body, hips rolling as he thrusts up, is burned into your eyelids.

Groaning with frustration you pull your pillow over your head, hoping to sleep off the confusion.

~*~
Part 2
~*~

"I'm still asleep," you mutter grumpily, tugging your blankets up over your head. "Go 'way."

"I don't think so," a low voice responds, and you shift languidly to find him kneeling above you, hair falling about his face in a cascade of golden light. Before you can react to his presence his hands are on yours, guiding them to rest above your head.

"What-" Your confused question is cut off in a low moan as his mouth lands on yours, insistent lips urging yours apart, tongue swiping against yours in a breathtakingly erotic dance. You groan, trying to grasp what is happening, your sleep fogged mind scrambling for coherency.

"Don't think," he hisses lowly, mouth sliding to nip at your chin. "Feel me-feel us . . ."

Your body twists under his, bare skin meeting bare skin, startling jolts of electricity trailing down your spine. Your moan grows more intense as his mouth opens over your shoulder, hands tangling in your hair and tilting your head back, leaving the vulnerable arch of your neck open to him.

"Please-" you gasp, not knowing what you're pleading for as the wet heat of his lips travel over the sensitive skin beneath your jaw. You're pleading, begging-hips twisting up into his as his mouth flowers open, tongue sneaking out to snake across your throat, teeth scraping lightly.

"I want you," he breathes, green eyes boring into you as his fingers tighten in your hair, pulling your face down so that he can meet your eyes. "I want you . . ."

You start up out of sleep, thin nightgown clinging to your body as you fight through the haze of desire in your mind to find reality.

Your fingers grope at the controls above your head, your hand trembling so badly that it takes several tries to bring the lights up. Throwing the heavy covers back you swing your legs over the side of your bunk, staring down at the floor.

The third night in a row you've dreamt of him, the third night you've been torn out of sleep with an ache in your body that nothing will ease. Tonight had been so much worse-tonight it had been as if he was actually there-in your dreams. Before you'd suffered only vague images, sweaty bodies twisted together, skin sliding against skin to the tempo of gentle moans and sighs-

--but tonight had been different. And what was more startling, the word that had been on your lips as you slid up out of sleep.

'Yes.'

~*~

"As you see, our weakest position is here, along the outer perimeter." Stabbing a finger down on the viewscreen you take a moment to look at the faces around you, scanning for understanding. Most of your officers are quick on the uptake, but some of them have more balls then brains, and need a subtle reminder when it comes to the more challenging intricacies of command.

"I need three squads out there, covering positions here, here, and here."

Before you can continue there is a rustle near the door. Looking up you see the crowd parting to allow General Kenobi passage to the front of the table.

"General," you greet casually, careful to keep any hint of emotion off of your face. He nods in return, but you're shocked to see a faint blush form on his cheeks. His eyes meet yours for a few moments, the embarrassment in their green depths somewhat startling.

It's all you can do to avoid sinking under the table as the possibility that he discovered you watching him occurs to you. Fighting a blush of your own you stare down at the table, fingers clenching into the desk. "Do you have anything to add, General Kenobi?"

You glance up to see his eyes roaming over the viewscreen on the table. "Are the three squads assigned?" he asks, voice cool and professional. His eyes brush across yours again, and for a moment your transported back to your dream, those eyes above you, burning into your soul.

You see him blink, the flush in his cheeks increasing. Trying to tear your mind away from sensitive thoughts, you force yourself to stare at the table. "They have been assigned from my troops," you reply, keeping your voice even.

"I'd like to send one of my telepaths with each squadron," Obi-Wan responds, his voice just as even. "I'd feel more comfortable if they can check back, given how thinly spread out they'll be."

"Can your telepaths be ready immediately?" Fingers clenching into the desk again you chance a look up, meeting his eyes. They're closed and cool, revealing nothing of their prior emotion.

"They're on their way now," is the curt reply. You nod once, glad that the emotions is gone from his face. It is far too hard to keep your own raging emotions in check when his eyes are warm on you.

It is the matter of a few moments to get your squadrons coordinated, Obi-Wan directing the Jedi soldiers as you direct the Republic Soldiers. It is a good working relationship - both of you skilled in your respective duty.

A chance brush of his had against yours makes your eyes fly up, and before you can control it a flush spreads across your cheeks, echoed in his.

Insanity. You're the General of an army, blushing like a school girl. He's a Jedi, and doesn't seem to be doing much better.

A talk is definitely in order, before your confusion leads to trouble. But not right now - not while you're so off balance . . .

As you both leave the planning room to your respective duties, your promise yourself a good long talk with him.

Maybe tomorrow.

~*~

The water sloshes around you as you shift languidly, enjoying the one luxury that makes your position of General worthwhile. A bath - a real bath, big enough to fully immerse yourself in, and hot water enough to last until you're fingers are wrinkled.

Your eyes drift shut as the water laps at your body. It is relaxing - the only truly relaxing thing in your day - and you never pass up the opportunity to sink chin deep in the water, no matter how tired you are.

Your mind begins to drift as your body relaxes, and not surprisingly they drift towards the General. He had been almost shy with you after the planning session had finished, excusing himself with an almost hunted look and fleeing, muttering something about meditation. It was odd to see the normally unruffled man off balance, but you couldn't help but be grateful. Something tells you that you wouldn't be able to deal with the General in all his prowess right now.

As your thoughts hone in on him you feel something tugging at your mind, almost leading your thoughts in a certain direction. Before you know what is happening you're in the middle of a full blown fantasy.

He is in the tub with you, hard legs stretching out under yours as his hands latch around your waist, dragging you to him. You arch your body back over his hands, the ends of your hair trailing in the water as his mouth sinks to caress your breast, lips flowering open and teeth tugging insistently.

With a flicker the fantasy changes, and you're stretched out on a strange bunk, his long body covering you firmly. He slides against you, his lips latched onto yours as he kisses you breathless, tongues tangling and sliding in a slippery dance. You can feel your breathless moans as his tongue delves deeper, coaxing harsh sounds of need from your throat.

*Flicker*

The water laps against your hips as he lifts you slightly, throwing his head back as you brace your hands on his shoulders, sliding down onto his length. Your teeth nip slowly at the exposed jaw line, tongue snaking out to tease sighs and moans from his mouth. Plunging hands into his hair you tug his head up so that you can meet his eyes, your own gone wide with desire.

*Flicker*

One hard thigh slips between your own, urging your legs apart. With no further urging you lift your legs, wrapping them tightly around his narrow hips as your body surges upwards, seeking his. One strong hand cups your face as he slides slowly into you, his mouth never stopping it's erotic dance across yours. A low sigh and he's fully in you, body resting flush against yours. Fingers plunge into your hair, tugging your head up so that he can meet your eyes, his own gone wide with desire.

*Flicker*

You're not quit sure how you're moving, but you are, rising and falling in a staggered rhythm that leaves both of you gasping for breath. Your eyes never leave his as your hands slide down to brace against his chest, fingers caressing the smooth skin lightly. You can feel yourself falling into the depths of his soul.

*Flicker*

His hips are picking up speed now, the gentle languid circles turning into something more intense, the rhythm driving hollow cries of desire from deep within you. Your hands slide up to fan his face, fingers caressing as his eyes bore into you, diving into the depths of your soul

*Flicker*

Your movements are frantic now, your eyes sliding shut as strong hands lock around your waist, lifting you so that his narrow hips can thrust up into you, the groans being pulled from his chest as his head falls back against the tub, neck arching invitingly. Unable to pass it up you lean forward, lips tasting his franticly beating pulse.

*Flicker*

One of his hands slides down between your bodies, long fingers coaxing you to an even higher plateau of desire. His other hand is behind your neck, cupping the soft skin and lifting gently, exposing the arch of your neck to him. He groans against your skin as his lips find your pulse, latching on and sucking recklessly, his hips thrusting deeper and deeper within you . . .

*Flicker*

Your climax tears through you, and you cry out, your screams matching his as you rock together in the warm water, slippery bodies pressed together as the pleasure goes on and on and on . . .

*Flicker*

One more thrust of his hips and your feel the world implode, your voice rising with his as you both cry out, your fingers digging into his back as he bites down softly on your shoulder, muffling his cries as the pleasure goes on and on and on . . .

*Flicker*

Sitting bolt upright in the tub you let out a staggered moan, your body pulsing with leashed energy. Vaguely in the back of your mind you catch a mental image of Kenobi, stretched face down on his bed, his shoulders shaking as he buries his face in his pillow.

There is a long moment of silence before the Kenobi in your vision lifts his head, his eyes seeming to stare right at you as his entire face flushes bright red.

A curse that would make a Sith blush echoes in your mind, and you're suddenly alone in your head again.

Sinking back into the tub you give over to trembling tears of confusion.

~*~

Your body is still shaking an hour later when you're curled up in your bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep eludes you, your entire body still strumming from the strange fantasies that had rocked through you. Tears have long since stopped, but the helpless confusion has only grown.

You're so distraught that you let out a muffled squeak when your door chime sounds. Starting upright in bed you grope for your discarded pants, tugging them on with one hand and scrambling to button the last few buttons on your shirt with the other.

You're not surprised to see Obi-Wan standing outside your door, face looking haggard. His cheeks flush as his eyes meet yours, but he doesn't step back.

"May I come in?" is all he says, his voice even. Shifting aside slightly you nod your assent, waving to the couch before settling down in the chair across from it.

"I owe you an apology," Obi-Wan says without preamble. His eyes rise to meet yours, his face still flushed. "I - I did something, I'm not sure what yet, that lead to me sharing your dreams last night." At your muffled gasp his eyes fall to his hands curled in his lap. "I can only say that I am sorry - I'm afraid I affected them as well." His eyes rise again. "Somehow your mind . . . recognized mine this evening - reached out to touch it. And you got pulled in."

For a moment you stare at him, not quite sure what he is saying. Pulled into his mind . . . pulled into his fantasies . . .

Your fingers dig into the arms of the chair suddenly. "How - how did this happen?" you gasp, cheeks flaming. He was /sharing/ your dreams? No wonder he had been so embarrassed at the planning session. He'd found out that his fellow General wanted to tear his clothing off . . .

"I must have made a connection with you without realizing it," Obi-Wan responds softly. "It's not unusual - all it takes is for you to have been present and thinking about me at a time when I was projecting any sort of strong emotion. We are leading an army - emotion is hardly at a shortage . . . and it is not unusual for you to be thinking about your fellow General when we are in the middle of battle."

Your mind flashes back to the sight of Obi-Wan stretched out on his bed, body arching up in the air in ecstasy . . . and your eyes glued to the sight, mind racing with desire.

Somehow you doubt that the connection between you was formed during a battle.

You open your mouth, not quite sure what you're going to say . . .

. . . and all hell breaks lose.

Obi-Wan is on his feet immediately, hand straying to his belt where his lightsabre hangs. It seems as if every alarm the ship has is going off, all of them amplified as the come unit in your room flares to life.

"General?" a frantic voice barks, and you recognize one of your Lieutenants. "General - we need you on the bridge immediately."

"Situation?" you respond, pulling yourself to your feet and tucking your shirt into your loose breeches.

Before the Lieutenant can respond the entire ship shakes, more alarms blaring to life. You stumble back into your chair, swearing as you stub your toe. You can hear the frantic calls over your com, the most repeated one being, "We've been hit," followed by, "Brace for second impact."

Kenobi grabs you around the waist, his free hand flying up to brace himself against the wall. A second impact rolls through the ship, and you find yourself clinging to Obi-Wan's arm as he rides the wave out, keeping you upright with a firm arm around you.

"Lieutenant, what is the situation?" you snap again, shaking off Obi-Wan's arm as soon as the ship settles and diving for your boots.

"We're under attack," is the terse response, the Lieutenant's voice slightly frantic. "We can't find General Kenobi anywhere. Please advise."

"I'm right here," Obi-Wan says calmly, shooting you an apologetic glance. You shake your head and groan, knowing exactly what the entire bridge crew is going to assume once it gets around that Obi-Wan was visiting your quarters late at night.

"Oh." Definitely a smug tone there. You make a note to sit your Lieutenant down and have a firm talk with her. "General Kenobi, we would like to request your presence on the bridge as well."

"I will be there in a few moments. Thank you." Striding over to the control panel Obi-Wan kills the com unit. "Sorry," he says in a contrite tone, mouth curving into a smile. "I just set you up for about a year's worth of gossip."

Settling your feet into your boots you shrug philosophically. "Under the circumstances, nothing could be done." Striding to the door you open it, jerking your head over your shoulder. "Let's get to the bridge."

The bridge is chaos. The attacking vessels are clear on screen, dark menacing ships that have you surrounded from several angles.

You've only had a chance to get half way to your station when you've overcome with the most mind-numbing pain you've ever experienced. Clutching your hands to your head you fall, only vaguely realizing that Obi-Wan is falling as well, his voice a low groan as he hits the deck.

~*~
Part 3
~*~

"Sorry, so sorry."

The voice tugs at you, caressing your senses as you float in a blissful void of nothingness. You can't remember anything - anything except for the pain. The pain is just beyond your senses, a menacing dark cloud that chases you through dreams.

"I don't know how it happened - you never should have been so closely linked with me."

The voice is familiar - tempting really. Warm and silken, gliding across your frayed nerves and providing a strange balm to your soul. You struggle up, reaching out with your heart and soul to find comfort in that golden voice.

"I can feel you even now. You're there - I know it. Please come back to me."

You can not deny this voice anything. It's already wrapped around you, the words spoken out loud echoing somewhere in your soul.

Your eyes drift open, blinking carefully as you fight to bring the world into focus. There is a black blur beside you, a blur that moves closer as you groan slightly. A warm hand settles on your forehead, running gently down over your eyes to close them again.

"No, don't use your eyes yet," that voice says softly. "Do you remember where you are? Who I am?"

"General Kenobi," you slur, voice harsh. "I - I was on the bridge." You fight to remember. "Pain - there was pain. I hit the deck . . ."

"That was my fault. I was under attack from a Dark Jedi." The fingers resume stroking your hair gently. "You - you were still linked with me somehow. Instead of me bearing the brunt of the attack and falling, you took the greater part of it. It freed me up to defeat him - but for a moment I thought I'd lost you."

"Are we safe?" you grate, trying to swallow. Your throat is so dry - your entire body aching.

"We're safe. You were the only casualty of the attack." The hands disappear for a moment before returning, one arm sneaking under you and propping you up slowly. "Keep your eyes closed for a little while," you hear as something cool is placed against your lips. Water - a sweet commodity in deep space, passes between your lips, trickling down your throat and soothing aches you had barely noticed.

"What's wrong with my eyes?" you ask softly after the glass has been removed.

"You ruptured a few blood vessels when you screamed," is the gentle reply. Fingers are on your forehead again, caressing gently. "You were in a great deal of agony, and I couldn't block it. I'm sorry - it is all my fault for causing the link." The guilt in his voice is overriding, crashing against you.

"Not your fault," you hear yourself say softly. Your hand is heavy, but somehow your lift it, reaching up to grasp his fingers, leading them to rest on your forehead. "You can read thoughts, Jedi. Read mine."

And you project back to him the image of himself stretched out on the bed, hips jerking upwards. Wrapped in with the image are your emotions, clear desire and overwhelming need.

A harsh gasp as if he's been burned, and the fingers leave your forehead. You can hear him breathing for a few moments, and you struggle to open your eyes again. All you can see is a black blur moving towards the door, leaving you.

Your eyes slide shut again, but you can't keep the tears from leaking out as you feel the gentle warmth that had been in the back of your head recede.

You're still crying when the ship's Healer comes in. Ignoring your protests, she lays a gentle hand on your forehead. "You're distraught from your injury," she says softly. "You need to sleep."

You try to tell her that sleep won't heal the wound you're suffering - but no words come out as you drift into sleep.

~*~