~*~

You have no idea how long you've been bent over your desk--five hours? ten?--but you know it's been far too long. Your assistant came in a long time ago to try to make you sleep, but you were so close--so close . . .

Glancing at the wall chrono, you rub the back of your hand against your forehead. You've been sitting here for almost thirteen hours, trying desperately to isolate the deviant strain in the virus that attacked your ship so many weeks ago. Even after the quarantine was lifted you stayed on board, nursing the last victims to health so that they could join their crew on the new ship.

Despite protests from Ob--from General Kenobi, you were firm in your decision to stay and study the virus, claiming that only a Force Sensitive would be safe from the devastating affects, and of all the Force Sensitives, you're the most powerful Healer. Not conceit or ego--simple fact, a fact which Obi-Wan recognized.

After two weeks of little sleep and only two other people for company, you are starting to wish you'd given in to the General's rather enthusiastic attempts at persuasion. Certainly you'd be having more fun with him than you are sitting in a lab, snatching sleep on the floor between long bouts with finicky medical equipment.

A blush comes to your cheeks as you recall just how much fun you had saying goodbye to Obi-Wan three weeks prior . . . but you're just too damn tired for your libido to kick in like it has been lately whenever your thoughts stray to the far too charming General Kenobi. ::As if I didn't get enough of him in the week we spent chasing each other around the bedroom,:: you think a little drily, folding your arms on your table and letting your head fall on top of them.

That last time you'd been so close to success . . . so close.

You don't even realize it when your eyes drift shut.

~*~

"This is getting out of hand," Donbi muttered sourly, eyes glued to the sleeping figure of the Healer.

"She can't go on like this much longer," Ellsa agreed, coming up behind her lover and staring over his shoulder. "She doesn't sleep, she barely eats--and I don't think she's ever going to isolate the strain like this. She's wearing herself out." Ellsa shifted her gaze to Donbi. "You have to do something, Don--she's going to kill herself."

"Like she listens to me?" Rolling his eyes, Donbi reached out with the Force to nudge the Healer's mind deeper into sleep. "Why don't you talk to her? You're a woman . . ."

"I'm a pilot, Don. She's a Master Healer. You really think she'll listen to me?"

"She's got to listen to somebody . . ." Sighing, Donbi reached up to rub a hand across his eyes. "I just don't know who."

Ellsa's eyes glinted suddenly, a smile forming on her face. "I do."

~*~

Four hours of staring through a magnifier, manipulating cells with nothing but the Force of your mind . . . and so little to show for it. No cure, no explanations . . . not even definitive proof whether or not the virus was manufactured or not.

Just more questions--and a headache the size of the Outer Rim.

Fumbling for the lights you knock over a tray of food that somebody set next to your arm in hopes that you'd eat it. Cursing slightly you try to reach out with the Force to gather up the mess, blinking when the slightest mental exertion makes your vision swim.

::Overdid it,:: you think, gathering the strength to stand. You've made it two steps towards your blanket in the corner when your feet fly out from under you, your entire body cushioned suddenly on a pillow of energy.

"What is going /on/?" you roar, thrashing against the gentle Force bonds holding you aloft. Reaching out for the Force, you find your mind blocked gently but firmly by a solid wall of power. More than a little frantic, you grope at your belt for your lightsabre--terrified at the prospect of using what has become a ceremonial sign of your affiliation with the Temple. The last time you actually used it . . .

Your lightsabre flies out of your hands before you can activate it. "Work time is over," a calm voice states from the door, honeyed tones sliding over you and making your body shiver despite your anger and fear.

"You arrogant, obnoxious, assuming little /bastard/," you snarl, struggling futily to spin to face the man you know is standing at the doorway. There's a slight shift in the energy holding you up, and you're deposited ungraciously in front of a pair of black boots.

Still snarling, you scramble to your feet and stare up at that calm face, fists clenched. "Just what do you think you're doing, interrupting my work?" you growl, more angry now than you have been in years. Maybe your whole life.

Obi-Wan says nothing, staring at you with his perfect inscrutable Jedi face. He's lounging almost casually in the doorway, arms draped across his chest and legs braced slightly apart. Part of you wants to claw that calm look off of his face.

Part of you wants to tear his black uniform off and fuck him cross-eyed.

"What are you doing here?" you snap, ignoring the dramatically increased rate of your heart.

"It came to my attention that you weren't taking care of yourself." Moving forward, Obi-Wan flicks the lights on with an absent thought and narrows his eyes, staring at you. "Have you slept or eaten in the past week?"

"Yes," you snarl, skittering backwards as he reaches out to touch you. "Hands off, General. You haven't told me why you're here yet."

"I was sent for," Obi-Wan responds, advancing on you quickly and reaching out to capture your arm. "It was brought to our attention that the Healer assigned to this mission was neglecting the personal well-being of a crucial member of the staff."

For a moment you can't speak, shocked by the implication that you would mistreat someone in your care. "I would /never/ neglect anyone!" you explode, shaking Obi-Wan's hand off your arm you take another step back, eyes spitting fire. "I have never in my life neglected anyone in my care."

Faster than words Obi-Wan has spun you around, hands clenched on your shoulders, to face a mirror. "Look for a few moments and tell me that again," he spits, catching your gaze in the mirror and glaring.

Your eyes sweep over your reflection and you wince, forced to see how badly you've abused your body.

Again.

You're frighteningly thin, cheeks hollow and eyes sunken in. Your normally lustrous hair hangs limply around your shoulders where it's escaped from it's utilitarian braid. Dark bruises under your eyes attest to little sleep, and the pallor of your face is unhealthy.

"If I came to you looking like this, what would you do?" Obi-Wan whispers, one thumb snaking down your cheek. "Don't bother answering, I know exactly what you'd do."

Before you can blink he's got you cradled in his arms, striding from the room without a backwards glance. You struggle a little, trying to get down, but his arms just tighten until they're clamped around you.

"Let me /down/," you hiss, glaring at the face above you. "I can walk."

"Don't like being carried like this?" Obi-Wan asks mildly.

"No!" you spit.

Your feet touch the ground for only a second before you're hefted up again, this time flung across Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Hope this is better," he says calmly before moving again, headed the Force only knows where.

"I'd like you to please put me down," you say, trying to resist the urge to claw his back up. You're being carted around like a sack of grain, and aren't particularly amused with it.

"I'd like it if you took care of yourself," Obi-Wan responds. "You don't, so I can't."

Since there's nothing you can really respond to that, you clamp your mouth shut and decide to rest up for round two.

~*~

Obi-Wan is sleeping next to you when you finally manage to pull yourself awake. Stretching slowly, you roll over and prop your head up on your elbow, letting your eyes trail over the sleeping body next to you.

Much as you've been abusing your body, he hasn't been very kind to his either. Muscle is stretched tautly over bone with far to little flesh for your peace of mind. His eyelids are slightly bruised, and the pallor of his skin attests to far too much time spent inside.

This is a man who should be outdoors, in the elements. The sun, the wind-not cooped up in a ship month after month, chasing elusive demons that only the Jedi Council can see.

Slipping out of bed, you pull the covers up tight around him before brushing a hand against his head, sending him deeper into sleep.

::Two can play at this game,:: you think smugly, wandering over to you communications center. Rifling through your files for a moment, you come up with a much folded scrap of paper, smiling.

"Well, Master Jinn. Let's see what you have to say about how Obi-Wan's been treating himself."

~~~~~~~

You're just finishing one of the best conversations of your life when Obi-Wan comes up behind you, hands falling on your shoulders.

"Master?" he asks, eyes growing wide as he leans over to catch a better look at your view-screen.

"Obi-Wan-you look horrible." Light-years away Master Jinn's eyebrows draw together, his generous mouth flattening into a thin line. "You'd do well to listen to the Healer, Obi-Wan. She seems to know what she's talking about."

"Take a look at her, Qui-Gon. She hasn't done a good job taking care of herself." Again the thumb snakes down your cheek, Obi-Wan staring down at you with exasperated eyes. "But she does know what she's talking about. I just wish for my own peace of mind that she'd take her own advice."

"Don't worry, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon says with a wide smile. "I've already spoken to her about that little omission. I'm sure she'll be more careful in the future." Smiling at your flushed cheeks, Qui-Gon lifts a hand. "This is already going to be unbelievably expensive, Obi-Wan-"

"And it's on the military," Obi-Wan mutters smugly.

"-so I'll send the rest of my news on in our weekly letter. Anakin sends his love. Take care of yourself." Master Jinn winks at you before ending the transmission.

"And just what was that about?" Obi-Wan asks, hands trailing down your shoulders to rub tiny circles around your collarbone.

"Doing what any good Healer does when faced with a new patient," you respond smugly, tilting your head back to give his hands better access as they glide up your neck, fingers sinking into your hair and massaging your head carefully.

"A new patient?" Obi-Wan's voice is amused, but his fingers continue to rub through your hair.

"I was doing research," you reply, arching your head into his caress. "Mmmmm . . . don't stop. That feels good."

"I need a bath," Obi-Wan says suddenly. "And when's the last time you did more than jump under the fresher?"

"Don't start that again," you murmur, concentration still on the feeling of his hands running through your hair.

"I know damn well that there is a great big bath in the captains quarters on this ship," Obi-Wan says, his lips suddenly inches away from your ear. "And since there is no captain currently on this ship . . ."

"I certainly won't say no," you say, eyes sliding shut as you tilt your face back more. "A bath with a handsome, talented, Jedi-General. Sounds like a dream come true."

"Are you going to stand up?" Obi-Wan asks, lips caressing your earlobe. You tilt your head to the side, catching his lips with your own for a brief kiss.

"Can't we just make wild passionate love here?" you ask plaintively, fingers tangling in his hair. "I don't /want/ to move."

"Bath. Now."

Sighing, you pull yourself to your feet. Glancing over your shoulder you casually tug your shirt over your head, tossing it aside. "Hurry up, General Kenobi. I might find other company on my way there."

Reaching the tie on your breeches you tug, stepping out of them as they hit the floor and heading out the door. Smiling at Obi-Wan from the hallway you open the Captain's door, slipping inside and pacing across the room.

You've almost made it into the bathing room when Obi-Wan catches up to you, spinning you around and pinning you to the wall.

"Why do you like to tease," he groans, hands splaying possessively over your face as he presses his body against yours. "Do you know how much I've missed you? Missed having you close . . . missed hearing your voice . . ." His lips claim yours in a bruising kiss, tongue invading your mouth almost immediately as it probes for yours, tangling and coaxing. You moan low in your throat, feeling his fingers tangling in your hair and tilting your neck back.

His mouth slants across yours, coaxing your lips wider apart as he continues to rob you of coherent thought. His low growl turns into a whimper as you pull back to suck on his lower lip, nibbling lightly.

"Bath," you say harshly, fingers creeping around to tug on the tie to his breeches.

"Fuck the bath," he responds harshly, snagging you around the waist and hauling you to the Captain's bed. "I want you howling underneath me before five minutes is up." Laying you down carefully he drops to cover you, mouth attached to the sensitive spot on your neck. You let out a soft moan as he teeth nip at the soft skin before rough lips resume suckling. Arching your head back you writhe up against his body, protesting when your skin meets cloth.

Drawing back he helps you tug his shirt off, baring the broad expanse of his chest to your hungry eyes. Running your fingers across the soft skin you smile, brushing flat nipples with your fingertips.

"You," he growls in response, dropping back down so that his chest is flush against yours. "I want you writhing and crying with pleasure. I've dreamed of being able to give that to you for weeks now-and I want it." The feral grin and glint in his eyes nearly takes your breath away, and you arch your body up against him in supplication, whispering one word. "Yours."

He smiles--a soft, seductive smile. "Thank you," he whispers against your lips, kissing you again. The first kiss was wild, leaving you with a pounding heart and trembling legs. This kiss is soft-so soft. His lips caress yours, tenderness and longing making your heart ache. What you've done to deserve this-

His lips slide away to explore your jawline, trailing down to your neck. You let your eyes slide shut as you savor the feeling of his lips on your skin, his rough tongue snaking out to tease you as even teeth nip at you. His long fingers are restless, one reaching up to roam the planes of your face and neck, the other teasing your collarbone relentlessly.

He moans softly against your shoulder, the slow exhalation of breath stirring the air above your damp skin and coaxing a shiver out of you. You can hear the hitch in breath as you twist slowly beneath him, you hip brushing against his growing arousal.

"Not so slow," you whisper, opening your eyes to see him. Green eyes slide up your body to meet your eyes, the desire and need standing in them plainly.

"Not so fast," he replies softly. "For me, please?"

Unable to form a response you nod slightly, letting your head fall back into the pillow as his hand sneaks down to cup your breast, thumb snaking out to brush softly against the straining nipple. "Soft," he breathes, his breath tickling your skin. You glance down just in time to see him drop his head to feather light kisses across your breast, teasing the nipple tighter with soft breaths and barely there caresses.

"I thought you said five minutes," you mutter as your hands come up to clutch the back of his head, fingers working his long ponytail out of it's binder. Carding through the long honey locks you arch your back, pleading silently for a firmer touch.

"As my lady requests," is the soft reply, barely audible as his mouth opens, the lips engulfing the straining nipple and sucking enthusiastically. The rough tongue drags across the sensitive bud before pulling back to flick at it, the suction never letting up.

The moan that escapes your mouth is strangled, barely completed before it lapses into soft whimpers as one hard thigh coaxes your legs apart, letting his hips settle between them.

You cry out when his mouth leaves you, the cool air brushing against the wet, sensitized skin. Twisting you arch up, pressing your body against his as he slides down, finally pillowing his head on your thigh. The soft stubble on his chin tickles your leg as he carefully nudges your legs farther apart with his shoulder.

You feel his face turn with supernatural slowness-feel it in slow motion as his lips slide up your leg to the crease where your leg meets your body. Soft kisses feather out as one hand comes up to stroke at you softly, caressing the curls as one finger dips gently inside you.

The harsh groan he lets out as he feels your desire reverberates along your skin, his mouth shifting to sink directly over your opening.

And then you can't breath, your entire body stretched taut as he begins the exquisite torture. Lips and tongue caressing and teasing, exploring you as his fingers dig into your thighs. His tongue snakes around to tease your bundle of nerves, flicking it once or twice before settling down to suckle on it in earnest, fingers clenching tighter on your hips as you buck up.

You can hear yourself crying out, hear the begging and pleading in your voice as you call out his name, twisting under the talented tongue. Almost arousing as his actions are the sounds he's making, low growling sounds of need as his tongue spears deeper, driving a hoarse cry from your lips.

"More," you whimper desperately, hips still twisting in search of something more substantial. In any other mood your wantonness would shock you, but now all you can think of is release from the incredible, exquisite torture.

One finger strokes inside you, forcing another strangled cry from your throat. Your hips buck up again as the finger curls seeking expertly the spot that he found almost by accident during your week of forced bedrest.

Electricity shoots up your spine as he finds it, stroking across it gently as your body trembles.

"Obi-" you gasp out, hips jerking up as a second finger joins the first. Tossing your head you whimper desperately, the fingers tangled in his hair pulling weakly. "Please-please."

He knows what you want without saying it, and suddenly he's there above you, fingers still buried inside you. "Please," he whispers, sinking down to claim your lips as his fingers brush that spot again. "Let me see your face. Come, please, love."

Pulling back slightly he continues to whisper endearments as he drops kisses over your face and chin, his fingers never slowing down.

With a soft groan of surrender you let go, feeling yourself catapulted into pleasure as his fingers find that spot and stay there, teasing and caressing. Your eyes slide shut as your body twists helplessly, riding the waves of pleasure as they crest higher and higher, building towards something that you can't even comprehend. You distantly hear your voice crying out, hear yourself sobbing with pleasure and joy . . .

**Disclaimers and such in Part 1--but this contains nekkid thrusting General Kenobi*

Part 2:

You float into consciousness with a feeling of utter contentment. For a moment you're disoriented before your realize that you actually /are/ floating, body immersed in hot water. A hard body is stretched out underneath you, and slow hands carefully caress your stomach as you shift languidly, smiling slightly at the suspicious hardness pressed into your lower back.

"Mmmmmm," you murmur, struggling to get languid arms to obey you as you squirm around to straddle him. "That was nice."

"Nice?" Obi-Wan responds dryly, one eyebrow quirking up.

"Very nice," you amend, leaning forward to brush your lips against his. "Fabulous." Another kiss, deeper. "Mindblowing." Your tongue sneaks out to slide across his mouth, stealing a groan from his throat. "Can we do it again?"

Lips rise up to seize yours, fingers plunging into your hair as your mouth is crushed against his. For a few moments you allow him to kiss you, your own fingers sneaking behind his head to tangle into his wet hair.

The insistent arch of his hips against yours, however, reminds you of something else that needs taking care of. Without pulling away you free one hand from the tangle of his hair and plunge it into the water behind you, fingers curling around his eager length.

He breaks off the kiss with a moan, head falling back as his hands drop to your hips. Long fingers dig into your waist as his hips try to buck upwards, your weight across his stomach pinning him down.

Smiling slightly you reach out with your other hand to trace one eyebrow tenderly before you use your little bit of leverage to lift your body up, sinking back down onto him and taking his throbbing length deep into you.

Both of you let out a moan, yours low and breathy and his almost guttural. His hands clench even tighter around your waist as he tugs your hips down, trying to sink even deeper into you. Arching your hips slightly, you grind into his body, fingers grasping his shoulders.

Due to the lack of leverage, you're forced to move almost painfully slowly, rising a few inches and sinking carefully back down. You can feel his body writhing underneath you, feel him trembling as his hands help lift you, fingers digging tightly into your flesh.

Leaning forward, you brace your hands on the tub behind his shoulders, throwing your head back when the change of angle leaves you breathless. You feel the electricity as his mouth latches on to your neck, lips trembling against your skin as he releases groan after groan.

You continue your slow, rocking pace for a while, the tension building and building as both of you struggle to find a way to increase your movement. His hands clamp almost painfully around your waist as he lifts you slightly, hips thrusting up into yours.

"Too slow," you moan, fingers tightening on his wrists as you let your head fall back again. "Faster . . please . . ."

Suddenly you're floating, his hands and his warmth inside you gone. You give a startled cry, reaching out for him and moaning in loss as he pulls himself to his feet. One arm wraps around your waist, tugging you against a hard body as he steps from the bathtub, headed towards the bed with a low growl.

Your back bounces as you hit the mattress, your body springing back up into his as he collapses on top of you. Hot hands are everywhere, sliding over you with the dull rasping sound of skin on skin as as his mouth claims yours in a searing kiss. Twisting in the blankets you whimper, the sheets clinging to your wet body as you try to rock up into him, try to get him inside you again . . .

A Force assisted shove and he's sprawled on his back, fingers clambering to touch you as you slide over him, spreading your legs and taking him again in one long thrust. He moans, head falling backwards as his hands caress your thighs and hips, urging you with gentle pulls to move.

But you don't. For one eternal moment you simply sit there--staring down at the erotic sight before you. His body is stretched taunt, droplets of water sliding down his chest and neck, tangled honey hair sticking to his neck and shoulders as he twists his head back and forth. His eyes slide open--for once pure green--and he gives you a look of desperate need.

"Please . . ." he stutters, voice choking in his throat in a low moan as you shift slightly, muscles tightening around him. His fingers tug at your hips again, his own hips rocking up into them. "Please . . ."

So you move. Your hands fall to his chest to brace yourself as you lift your body up, sliding back down with a low moan. You can feel his feet pushing against the bed behind you as he pushes his hips up into yours, tugging your hips down at the same time.

You groan again, body swaying slightly as you try to move faster, shaky legs and arms barely supporting you as you lift yourself carefully and grind yourself back down.

"Faster," Obi-Wan growls, eyes going feral with need. His wet hair tangles around his throat as he lurches into a sitting position, drawing the Force around him like a blanket. You can feel it like a living thing, caressing your body and mind as he wraps his arms around you, spinning and lowering your back to the bed.

You're aware of only need as he lavishes you with deep, wet kisses, tongue tangling greedily with your own as he coaxes a low moan from your throat. You can feel your fingernails digging into his shoulders as you arch up against him, but you can't find the will to care.

He pulls back then, fingers locking around your hips with bruising strength. Your feet scramble for purchase as they lock around his lower back, trying to pull him into motion. But he stays just as still as you did--eyes roaming your body.

::Beautiful,:: roars across your mind on a wave of lust, and you open your mind to him as he projects his image of you into your thoughts.

Sprawled wantonly before him, fingers clutching uselessly at the bedding as you arch your body up in slow waves, kiss swollen lips murmuring intelligible words as your own brown eyes stare up at him through a tangle of wet, dark brown hair. You feel the wave of affection and love that comes with the picture, the adoration of all your little imperfections, the respect and awe of your talents . . . and the deep, unyielding love of your soul.

With a cry you surrender, although what you're surrendering to isn't clear. All that you can register is the steady pounding of this hips against yours, the feeling of his hands running over your hips and stomach, one fingers sneaking down to rub slippery circles around your throbbing nub . . .

And the words of love that slip from his mouth as his hands fall to either side of your head, eyes hovering only inches above yours. His hair makes a curtain around your face, blocking out your vision of anything but his eyes as his hips thrust a few more times, deeply, scraping that hungry spot inside you each time.

With a loud cry you climax, body trembling beneath his slow kisses as he continues to thrust into you, groaning as your clenching muscles trigger is own pleasure. You feel the warmth of him deep within you as you writhe, your only thought on the man above you and around you and in you . . .

He slowly lowers himself to your side when he finally stills, wrapping trembling arms and legs around you. You respond in kind, hooking one leg over his hip and snuggling into the warmth of his chest. One of you--you're not sure who--uses the Force to call a blanket to you, but your minds are so intertwined that it could have been both of you. Feeling the subtle heat of him in the back of your mind is comforting, and you smile.

"My Knight," you murmur into his chest, brushing a kiss against the damp skin.

"In shining armor?" he responds, his voice just as languid.

Lifting one hand you poke him in the ribs, running your fingers over the bones that should be covered in far more flesh than they are. "Slightly dented, I'd say."

"You'll fix that," he replies, arms tugging you closer. "You're my Healer."

"I'm sleepy," you respond. "I'll heal the world in the morning."

There's not response but a low chuckle, and your burrow deeper into his arms, floating safely in the knowledge of his love.

~*~

Fin