{I told Holly that I owed Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan after that last fic. Perhaps with this I'll be able to get them out of my system, for a little while.
I wish it was easy to add a soundtrack to fic - there is something unutterably sad and life-affirming and beautiful about Rachmaninoff's Second Piano Concerto. . .}

Obi-Wan started awake, and sighed to himself when a quick glance at his bedside chrono revealed the still-late hour. He had been in bed less than three hours, the first hour of which had been pleasantly passed with a torch in hand, poring over an ancient Jedi text Master Yoda had given him to study. He would have been pleased to roll over on his side and return to sleep, but for the quiet noise that had awakened him.

It was the slide of the door that led from his Master's bedroom into the common room that they shared; by rights, he oughtn't even have been able to hear it, but he had, so used to hearing the same sound at the same time at night, for almost a week now. Qui-Gon bore the strain of his continued insomnia silently, giving no outward show of it to anyone but his keen-eyed Padawan, who recognized the slight slowing of his Master's reflexes, the increased time he took to respond to a query. He was exhausted, taking no more than an hour of sleep at a time, and it was only by sheer Jedi will and inherent stubbornness that he hadn't broken down entirely.

Obi-Wan wasn't entirely sure what it was that so disturbed his Master's sleep; they had been enjoying a spate of down time for the past week, back home at the Temple, having returned from a trip to Alderaan which had been quiet and pleasant, unlike so many of their previous missions. He knew that Qui-Gon was not the type to wish for trouble when none was forthcoming, so it had to be something tangible that was disturbing him. Before, he had always relished the quiet, using it as an opportunity to rest and strengthen himself; now their sudden lack of activity seemed to be plaguing him, somehow.

Obi-Wan had resisted going out at night to talk to his Master; Qui-Gon betrayed none of his disquiet during the day, and had not confided any problem to his Apprentice, so Obi-Wan waited, allowing him the space that he felt was his Master's due. But now - if they were both to be denied rest, something would have to be done.

Sighing once again, he shoved back the warmth of the bedclothes and padded across the floor of his room. The door slid open before him, and Qui-Gon turned from the small nook in the corner of the room, where he was making tea.

"Shouldn't you be asleep, Obi-Wan?" he asked, gently, with a small smile.

"I could ask you the same thing, Master," Obi-Wan said, and curled himself into one of the worn chairs on either side of their chessboard, knees pressed up against his chest. He ran a hand through his already unruly hair and yawned.

"I'm sorry if I awoke you, Padawan," Qui-Gon said, and brought Obi-Wan a mug of clear, sweet tea. "This tea should help you rest," he said, as he sat down opposite the younger man.

"And what will help *you* rest, Master?" Obi-Wan asked, sipping the hot liquid. Dark blue eyes narrowed and regarded him evenly over the top of a cup, but Obi-Wan refused to back down from Qui-Gon's familiar, it's-none-of-your-business- Padawan gaze. It had worked on him when he was thirteen, and not for very long after. Qui-Gon blinked, and Obi-Wan smiled in satisfaction. /Gotcha,/ he thought to himself.

Qui-Gon placed his cup on the table and folded his hands across his chest. "It's a smile like that which has been known to earn many a young Padawan extra lightsaber training in the gymnasium," he said, pointedly.

"I passed all of my final tests last term, Master," Obi-Wan replied, mildly, the smile still firmly affixed. "I was first in my form, if you remember."

"Perhaps *giving* lessons would be more in order, then. I happen to know there is at least one first-year class which could use an extra pair of hands."

Obi-Wan winced. 'First-year' in the Academy meant five-year-olds - cute, rambunctious young Force-sensitive students with chubby legs and very little grasp of the essential Jedi need for quiet. It was a cacophony at the best of times.

It was Qui-Gon's turn to smile, as he easily read the thought that rippled across Obi-Wan's face. Obi-Wan bowed his head, acknowledging the hit of that threat. It was not enough to send him back to bed, however, not when it would mean another night of tossing and turning, trying not to peer into to his Master's thoughts.

"You should go back to bed, Obi-Wan."

"I'm not tired," Obi-Wan yawned, making his Master smile, as intended. "Are we assigned anywhere, yet?"

"In the next few days, according to Master Yoda," Qui-Gon said. "Haven't you been enjoying your time here?"

"Yes. It's always good to see my friends, again, but I don't long to stay here forever, Master."

"You have the wanderlust that I had when I was your age. I used to itch to escape the school-room, and *go* - I didn't even care where, as long as it was away, and I was doing something useful."

"And now?"

"Now I know I won't be able to keep up this pace forever." Qui-Gon unconsciously flexed his shoulder, which had been injured a long time ago and had long since healed, although phantom-pain still plagued him when he was tired, or if the weather was bad. "I suppose I wonder what the future will bring, and what my place will be."

Something in the tone of Qui-Gon's voice made Obi-Wan frown.

"What is it, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "You sound - " He was almost loathe to give voice to the thought that had come into his mind, but it would not leave him, as unlikely as it seemed. "Lonely."

Qui-Gon looked at him, surprised, but perhaps not really. "Maybe I am," he agreed, after a minute. "I am almost fifty-five years old, Obi-Wan. I have trained three young apprentices, the youngest of which is not so very young himself, anymore. Perhaps I am simply feeling my age."

The protest came swiftly to Obi-Wan's lips. "But you're - "

"Not ancient," Qui-Gon said, before Obi-Wan could, giving voice to the thoughts which had obviously been on his mind. "I shall never reach Master Yoda's age, Padawan; none of us shall. I am probably over halfway through my life, now, but that could mean another thirty or fifty years or more." He smiled, halfway. "When you are ready to take your trials, I may be sixty. I do not think that I will have the patience - or the inclination - to take on the training of yet another young apprentice." He shook his head. "I did not think myself willing to take on even you, Obi-Wan - and it was not only because of Xanatos."

"You aren't old, Master," Obi-Wan said, firmly.

Qui-Gon chuckled. "When *I* was nineteen, I thought forty was positively ancient. Fifty was unthinkable, and sixty - " He broke off, his eyes shining with gentle laughter. "Well, now I'm beginning to think that I was right."

"You best everyone else with the lightsaber, Master, except for me," Obi-Wan argued. "Your skills are known and admired by many in the Temple."

"That is true," Qui-Gon agreed. "But I am reminded again that I could have chosen a different path for myself. I could have had a wife, children - perhaps I would be sitting with my grandchildren, right now, cataloguing my aches and pains to them, instead of to you."

"Are we never to be really sure we have taken the right path, Master?"

"We would not be human if we did not question such things, Obi-Wan. I know that most of the time I believe there could have been no other way but this for me. It's only in the middle of the night, when it is quiet and I have no other things to occupy my mind, that I am drawn back to those other roads that I did not take." He shook his head. "Regret is something that I must let go of, but sometimes even a Master has trouble with his life-lessons."

They sat together for a few more minutes, long and comfortable silence stretching between them. Obi-Wan had a slight frown in the middle of his forehead that would not abate, although he rubbed unconsciously at it with his fingers in between sips of honeyed tea. It wasn't until Qui-Gon stirred from his chair that he looked up.

"I believe I will take my chances with my bed, Padawan," Qui-Gon said. "And I would suggest that you do the same."

"Will you sleep?" Obi-Wan asked, as he rose to his feet.

"I don't know," Qui-Gon said, honestly. "I hope so." He walked to the door of his bed-chamber, and said, "Good-night," before he entered.

"Good-night," Obi-Wan echoed. He swallowed the last of the tea on his cup, then gathered his Master's cup and took them to the sink and washed them and the teapot, leaving them to air dry. The last thing he did before he retired to his room was to shift one of the pieces on the chess board, making his next move in their on-going game.

**********

The knock at the door of his chamber was barely perceptible, but Qui-Gon, still awake, heard it easily. "Come in," he called, sitting up in the bed.

It slid open to reveal Obi-Wan, arms wrapped around his body.

"What is it?" Qui-Gon asked.

"I thought you might still be awake," Obi-Wan said, and stepped into the room. "And, I thought, if you were - " he hesitated, not at all sure that he should be saying what he was saying, "I thought that perhaps I know of a way to help you sleep."

"I welcome any suggestions."

Obi-Wan knelt at the end of his Master's bed, hands in his lap. Qui-Gon was reminded once again of his apprentice's youth and agility and ease in his body by his movements.

"I thought - " Obi-Wan started again. "I thought we could make love."

Qui-Gon was impressed by the fact that, although he was obviously hesitant to voice his unorthodox - and unexpected - suggestion, Obi-Wan did not lower his gaze as he spoke it, nor did he betray any particular underlying hesitance. The very words seemed to relax him, as a matter of fact.

"I'm flattered, Padawan," Qui-Gon started, "but I don't think - "

"No, hear me out. I know you have no lover at the moment, and I know you've had them in the past, and I - well, I am not inexperienced, as you know, but I have no-one right now, either, and - " He took a deep breath. "I'm not explaining it right. I don't mean that we should - that I expect you to - " Obi-Wan smiled, a little embarrassed at his own flusteredness. "This made a lot more sense when I was thinking about it in my room."

"Really?" Qui-Gon teased, gently.

Obi-Wan chuckled. "There wouldn't be anything wrong with it, would there? I mean, if we just - made love - just tonight, just to help you sleep, to relax you, and calm your mind for a little while, and to convince you that you aren't alone. We have shared everything since we have been together; why not this, as well?"

"I am very flattered by the suggestion, Obi-Wan, and I do appreciate it. However, there is only one thing wrong with it that I can think of," Qui-Gon said, with a smile. "Although I do love you, I'm not *in* love with you."

"And?"

"Don't you think that's a problem?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "It isn't for me. I haven't considered this lightly, certainly - and I wouldn't want you to think that I just go and proposition people en masse when we're not together - "

"I didn't think anything of the kind. Not with that technique, anyway."

Obi-Wan grinned. "Well, I'm not in love with you, either. I love you," he added, quickly, "you have been everything to me. And - you are lovely."

That tribute drew a sweetness into Qui-Gon's face, and a softness to his eyes. "I appreciate the compliment. I don't believe it's ever been given me, before."

Obi-Wan smiled, too. "You know what I mean. I *do* love you."

"I've never doubted that."

"Never?"

Qui-Gon knew that his apprentice was thinking of the many trials that they had faced together in the past six years; the many victories and losses and pains and triumphs. They had not always been on the same side in battles large and small, but there was something between them that was not to be denied. "No," he said, and rested his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, intending to gently push the young man away from him, and send him back to bed, sure that the suggestion that they make love, although sweet and made with the best of intentions by his apprentice, was not the solution to his sleeplessness.

But before he could move his hand away, Obi-Wan turned his face, and brushed a soft kiss against his Master's large, rough palm - and when he turned his face back, something had broken in the older man's eyes. The hand brushed across his cheek, the thumb traced Obi-Wan's lips, and Qui-Gon dipped his head to meet those lips in a brief kiss.

"Let me do this for you," Obi-Wan breathed against those lips. "Let me stay. Please."

The look in Obi-Wan's eyes took away all thought from Qui-Gon's mind, even though the doubt lingered, and he merely nodded his head, and drew the bedclothes back.

Obi-Wan seemed almost more startled by his Master's sudden acquiescence than Qui-Gon had been by the suggestion in the first place, but he nevertheless slid into the bed beside him. They hugged, a little awkwardly, until Obi-Wan laughed and pressed himself into his Master's arms. "I don't think this is going to be as easy as I thought."

Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. "How long *have* you been thinking about this?"

"Half an hour."

Qui-Gon laughed, as well. "Quite a long time to plan a seduction, indeed."

"I thought so." Obi-Wan kissed his Master again, all about his face - over eyelids and nose and cheeks, before returning to his mouth, deepening the kiss. His hands roamed over Qui-Gon's sleeping tunic, finding the fastenings easily and drawing them open.

Underneath, Qui-Gon's bare skin was over-warm, as if from a fever, although Obi-Wan knew it was more likely caused by repeated tossing and turning in the bed as his Master sought elusive sleep. He dipped his head and swiped his tongue over Qui-Gon's nipples, peaking them easily. /Perhaps an intricate seduction is unnecessary,/ he thought with a wicked grin.

Qui-Gon looked down suddenly, as if he had heard that wayward thought from his apprentice. Obi-Wan looked at him innocently, and he pulled the younger man up into his arms. "I know what you're thinking," Qui-Gon said, before kissing him again. "It *has* been a while."

"I thought meditation and self-denial was the cure for sexual frustration," Obi-Wan grinned.

"Where in the Jedi Code did you read that?"

"I think it was Master Aurise who told me that." Master Aurise was one of the healing Masters at the Temple, in charge of teaching sexual health classes.

"When was this?"

"When I was thirteen."

Qui-Gon laughed out loud. "That explains a lot."

"Fortunately, I didn't believe a word he said - although I *did* have some concerns about losing my eyesight, for a while."

Qui-Gon continued to laugh. "Those rumours aren't true, you know."

"Well, I know that *now*, but I was a little concerned at the time." Obi-Wan was laughing himself, on his back on the bed. "Do you suppose humour is an aphrodisiac?"

"I think so." Qui-Gon drew the younger man into his arms, and began to unfasten his clothing. "In any case, I believe we are about to find out, my Padawan."

**********

Just before dawn, Obi-Wan stirred in the bed, and frowned when he saw the deep blue eyes of his Master staring into his own through the low light of the room. He accepted the kiss that he was given, but continued to frown.

"Why do you look so severe, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked, quietly. "Are you having second thoughts about what we have done?"

"No, but I think my suggestion proved a failure. You're still awake, when you should be exhausted and deeply asleep, by now."

"On the contrary, I feel quite exhilarated," Qui-Gon smiled. "I am merely caught up in watching *you* sleep, that's all."

"Perhaps my abilities are not what I believe them to be, then."

"They could not be better." Qui-Gon caught one of Obi-Wan's hands and drew it up to his lips. "I did sleep, a little."

"Really?"

"Yes. I awoke just before you did."

"I suppose three hours is better than nothing."

"It feels like a balm to my soul, right now."

"Perhaps another 'treatment' is in order, then, to induce you to sleep further."

Qui-Gon chuckled at Obi-Wan's somewhat sleepy enthusiasm, and let himself be turned on his back by his apprentice, who settled again in his arms, touching him gently and knowingly, so soon after their fleeting passion. Obi-Wan slid his finger from hairline and across the brow, and then down the crooked slope of his Master's nose. Qui-Gon was regarding him with frank amusement, still, and the younger man was determined to wipe the smile off of his face. He followed the path of his fingertips with his mouth, kissing a trail that ended up at Qui-Gon's mouth, warm and faintly sweet from the tea they had shared earlier that night, and spicy from the taste of himself and their lovemaking that he found there.

When he broke the kiss, Obi-Wan couldn't resist licking the taste of his Master from his lips. "Have you ever thought about this before?" he asked, suddenly. "Between us, I mean."

"No," Qui-Gon said, shaking his head. "Have you?" he asked, quietly.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No - but all of a sudden, I don't know why I haven't," he added, and slipped his arms around Qui-Gon's neck. He stilled, resting his warm, unclothed body the length of his Master's. "It seems right that we should be lovers."

"Not *quite* lovers, Padawan."

"No," Obi-Wan, agreed. "Not quite. I am not in love with you, true, and you aren't with me. But we love each other, and we have made love, and we are as close as any two people could possibly be, without *quite* being lovers." A smile teased at his lips as he turned his head. "Will you sleep, Master, if I stay?"

"I don't believe I would be able to if you left. Your warmth is quite intoxicating."

"And your mouth is very sweet," Obi-Wan said, and kissed that mouth, and then kissed Qui-Gon's eyelids closed. "Sleep," he whispered. "I will be here when you wake, I promise. I will not leave you alone, ever."

"That may not be a promise you can always keep, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, still with his eyes closed.

"I think I will," Obi-Wan said, and said again, "Sleep." He watched until the Jedi Master settled into a deep sleep. "I think I must," he whispered, and rested his head, and slept.

The End
MonaR.