Missed Opportunities

by Viccy

Email address: ycciv@hotmail.com

Rating: R, First Times

Fandom: Star Wars TPM

Pairing: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi

Date: February 2000

Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. May the Force be with you, too.

Summary: When the reality gets too close to Obi-Wan's fantasies, he tries to make the most of it.

Author's webpage: http://oregondonor.simplenet.com/viccy/index.html

Well, of course I had to write about TPM too! Did you really expect me not to? At least this time I can blame someone! Raonaid, if you hadn't told me how gorgeous the boys are (yeah, as if I hadn't noticed it myself when the movie finally got up here), this story would never have been finished. Or started, for that matter. Thank you very much!

Also big thanks to Wolfsbride. Not just for encouraging me to actually finish the story, but also for being the best friend I could have. Ha hum…

I'm not trying to offend anyone here! I love all those stories, in which the boys have to make love after interrupting a ritual/offending customs or one of the two is drugged with an aphrodisiac or drug, etc., and once again they get together. I was just wondering what would happen if one of them fantasized about those things, too?

No spoilers, this little story is definitely pre-TPM. Yes, I know they didn't communicate telepathically in the movie, but hey they didn't say that it was impossible, either. Sorry about the weapon, I really do seem to have some weird ax-fixation.



Fear.

A Jedi should not let his consciousness be flooded with fear. A Jedi is supposed to focus all his energy on being one with the Force, to keep calm and follow his instincts in order to serve others. Most importantly, a Jedi is not supposed to let his emotions control him, especially if these emotions are negative.

That sounds good, but when you're sitting in a ratty prison cell, waiting to be executed, calm and serenity are about as impossible to achieve as seeing Master Yoda and the rest of the Council drunk at the local spacedock's sleaziest bar. Maybe even more impossible. After all, people -and Jedi masters- do strange things sometimes.

I've been trained to be a Jedi for most of my life and now that I'm about to die on a far away planet, it seems like I'm not up to the job after all.

I guess I should be happy that the peace conference went well until my unfortunate mishap, and that it went on just fine, after I was sentenced to death. Even though my ignorance of the local customs jeopardized the whole thing, I've been told that the signing of the peace treaty is scheduled to be held right after my head is removed from my body by a big ceremonial ax. That alone should make me feel good, that my death serves a 'higher purpose'. It should make this easier for me.

It doesn't. Not really. All I can think about is that I don't want to die.

If my Master were here, he'd probably be meditating at the moment, instead of pacing around the little cell. But then again, he wouldn't have gotten himself into this mess in the first place. He would have asked for information before acting like a stupid teenager.

My only defense is that I am a teenager. I can use that excuse for about a month or so, before I'll have to get a new one. I'm not saying that I'm stupid, though. I would never have made it to being a Padawan if I had no brains in my head.

Sometimes it seems like I don’t, though.

Like six hours ago, when the guards dragged me -okay, escorted, but it felt like dragging, anyway- to the Hierophant's office. I had no idea what I'd done wrong. All I'd done was help a girl, who just happened to stumble right as she was passing by me. She'd let out a startled yelp, and I guess I just acted instinctively, rushing to pull her back to her feet.

How was I supposed to know that the loose red robe meant that she was the girl who was supposed to give her virginity to the ‘Spirits’ that the people around here believe in? And even if I'd known that, how could I have known that no man had ever touched her before a certain brainless Padawan dared to help her up from the cold ground?

So, I have a date with an ax.

Even the thought makes me break out a cold sweat. An ax, a foolish Padawan, and a crime equals a beheading. Namely, mine.

Fear, my old enemy, is here again. Always lurking at the edge of my consciousness. Trying to guide me to the path that ultimately leads to things far worse than death.

Fear.

The best way to get rid of it, is to face it. I take a deep breath and then let the fear wash over me. My stomach churns, the terror almost making me vomit. Closing my eyes, I ride the waves of my fear, not letting it devour me. Yes, I'm afraid to die. I admit it freely, and then I concentrate on what it means, just like I've been taught. Dividing the huge chunk of fear into manageable fragments, I go through all the aspects of 'dying', asking myself just what exactly it is I fear.

Okay, so first of all there's pain. Every sentient being fears pain and so do I. But with one swift swing of an ax, there will be no pain. Well, then there's loss of self. That's a good reason for fear. Or maybe not. After all, how can I be so sure I'll lose myself by dying? Ghost stories all around the galaxy indicate that death is not the end, but merely a change from one plane of existence to another. Being one with the Force doesn't mean that I won't still be me.

With all the logical reasons turning out to be quite illogical, I have to admit that the main reason for me being so damn afraid is the primal need to continue one's existence. I want to live!

I want that, but since that won't happen, there's no use letting the terror drown me. In just a few hours, I'll die. Nothing will change that, especially fear. I hold that thought, all the while breathing steadily in, out. Inhale, exhale, inhale...

A few minutes later the nausea passes. I'm at peace with myself. That doesn't mean that I'm not afraid anymore. I just don't let the fear control me.

Now I'll have to think of something to do. If I just stand here and wait, I'll be a nervous wreck in no time.

Maybe it would be best to imagine what will happen when the guards finally come for me. That way I'll be prepared for the worst. If I'm going to die, I'd like to do it with some dignity. Losing my nerve as I finally see the ax, forcing the guards to drag me, screaming, to be executed, is not a proper way for a Jedi Apprentice to die.

I visualize the place where I'll die, the people, the ceremony. The Asturans in the temple lining up, watching me walk towards the main altar. Some of them looking at me with pity, some with horror. All shocked about what is about to happen, for something like this hasn't happened for centuries.

Of course there'll be the exact spot where I'll die. An altar, or a specially built place where my executioner awaits with the ax. Somewhere next to him is the brown robed figure of my Master. I don't think I'll be able to look into his eyes. It'll be too embarrassing. To see his disappointment, his loss.

I guess I'll just keep my eyes on the Hierophant. He'll probably look sad. The old man has dedicated his whole life to peace and life, and at the dawn of that peace, after months of brutal civil war, he has to order one more death. I suppose I should say something to him, but there's not much to say in a situation like this. So, I'll probably just bow to him and step closer to the altar.

Then I realize something odd.

The setting is almost like one of my favorite fantasies. Yes, even Jedi Apprentices are allowed to fantasize. In this particular Padawan's fantasy the result of offending a rite of life isn't beheading, though. My dreams always lead to great sex.

The first time I had that fantasy, years ago, I was horrified. Even though I knew that daydreams are a perfectly normal outlet for sexual tension and that even the most bizarre ones would harm no one, I still felt like I'd done something wrong. I know better now. The fact that the person I fantasize about is my teacher, Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, doesn't mean that I'm offending him or being disrespectful towards him. Quite the opposite, actually.

It's also perfectly natural. Wanting him, that is. It's not really a subject that's spoken of out in the open, but since I've heard many Padawans talk to me about the same thing, I've come to the conclusion that when species, gender and sexual orientation allow it, every single apprentice has these feelings for their Master.

Yeah. When they are fifteen.

I guess it's a part of growth. Padawans in general tend to idolize their Masters, and it's safe to fall in love with an unattainable idol. That way one doesn't have to worry about getting really hurt by a real relationship, a real lover. Those who teach are so out of our league, a life-bond between a Jedi Master and his Padawan is almost unheard of. There have been a few soul-bonds between Master and Padawan, but not that willing sharing of absolutely everything one has and is that is formed by a life-bond. Not in my lifetime.

Still, a man can dream, can't he? At least I do. I have, for years now. Now that I think of it, it's a bit strange. Every other apprentice I know of has gotten over that little crush on their Masters, and moved on with their lives.

Apparently my feelings are somewhat different from that adolescent form of puppy-love. That's not all that big a surprise. I've never done anything by halves.

In my fantasy, I'm to atone my crime by paying respect to the local deity. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Anyway, in my daydreams the atonement isn't death, but a willing participation in a ritual of life. For some reason -it changes from time to time, depending on my mood- the only one I can do it with is my Master.

Thinking about this actually calms me. At least more than just standing here, staring at the closed door, is doing. After searching for a dry spot on the floor, I sit down by the wall. The small window near the ceiling shows an ink-black sky, and I know there's still a long time for me to wait for the sun to rise. Why not spend my last hours dreaming about something nice, instead of worrying about the inevitable?

For a second I even think about letting my shields drop and broadcasting all of my feelings to the only other Jedi on the planet. Then I decide against it. I've kept this secret for years. There's no need for me to change that policy now.

Closing my eyes, I let reality slip away, and enter the realm of fantasy. A dangerous place to dwell too long, but yet a place that has saved my sanity countless times. It's far better to seek oblivion there, than to let my unrequited love mess with my life.

There, I said it. Or thought about it, actually. Not unrequited lust. Love.

I sigh a little and try again, squeezing my eyes shut. The last thing I need right now is to contemplate my feelings towards my Master.

There's that familiar hall, the one I've never really seen, but that's always existed in my dreams. A big crowd has gathered to witness the ceremony. The huge windows of the temple are wide open and I can almost smell the flowers that bloom on every bush. It's springtime, the time for the rituals of life in most of the known cultures. And why shouldn't it be? That's when the Force is virtually throbbing with new life and growth.

I've been prepared for the ceremony, my hair and body washed with some exotic oil that leaves a wonderful scent behind. My skin is soft, tingling, and I feel warm all over. It's probably not because of the oil, though. Not because of my clothing either. Wearing only an emerald-green robe, I'm slowly walking towards the altar.

There's almost always an altar. On other occasions we'll just settle to the hard marble floor. For some reason, I hardly ever fantasize about soft beds.

I can see the ruler of the place standing by the altar, next to a tall, lean figure: The man of my dreams, Qui-Gon Jinn. Probably the most gorgeous creature in the whole galaxy. I've traveled across space for years now, and never have I met anyone who would even match him.

It's not just his appearance, even though his strong, muscled body, intelligent blue eyes, and that beautiful mane of soft hair are enough to make my heart beat faster. No, it's the man himself. He has a wry sense of humor I love. He's also headstrong, wise, compassionate, dedicated... I could go on and on about how marvelous he is.

Truly a perfect man, even though not a paragon of perfection, per se. I've seen him irritated -and irritating-, annoyed... held a towel and a glass of water ready for him as he hunched over a toilet seat, puking his guts out... shared quarters with him on missions when water was on short supply and we had to go unwashed for weeks. I certainly don't idolize him. I see him as what he truly is, as a man.

He's staring at me, a small smile playing at his lips. That makes me smile, too. It's definitely not a forced situation, for either of us. Even though we haven't said the words out loud yet, we both know how the other feels. The respect, the love, is flowing all around us, one with the Force.

The people are all quiet now. The high priest -or whoever the ruler of this place is, at this point of the fantasy, that detail doesn't really interest me all that much- raises his hands in blessing and then gestures towards the altar. My robe is sliding to the ground, leaving me standing naked in front of everyone. I can feel heat rising to my cheeks, but it's not embarrassment that causes the blushing. Actually, I don't pay any attention in the other people, they just sort of fade away. I'm not an exhibitionist, after all. Somehow I don't think my Master is either.

Keeping my gaze on the piercing blue eyes of my lover-to-be, I climb to the altar and wait for what happens next.

I don't have to wait for long. There's a rustling sound, when another robe falls to the marble floor and then Qui-Gon is hovering over me. His position almost demands that I glance at his naked body, but I just keep my gaze on his. The expression on his face is one I've never seen before. His eyes are dark with desire, and something even more intense.

I raise my hands and pull his head closer to me. When our mouths are barely an inch apart, he stills. His breath caresses my lips as he orders, "Say it."

"Yes..." It's just a whisper. "I want you. I love you." And then his lips touch mine.

The kiss is gentle and soft, but it soon deepens into something wild and passionate. It's almost as if we know that we don't have much time to do this. To be completely honest, I must admit that even if we had hours and hours, we couldn't make it last. At least I couldn't.

Since we're both already naked, it's easy to touch him everywhere. While our tongues are dueling, I explore his body with my hands. His skin is warm, almost burning, just like mine. There's nothing I want more than to feel his hard muscles pressed against me, our bodies sliding against each other. It's as if he can read my mind, or maybe I'm broadcasting my desires so loud that he can sense them, but in any case, he shifts his position a little, so that he's finally lying completely on top of me.

His weight feels wonderful, all the hard muscles, and that other hardness that pushes against mine. My caresses draw out a throaty moan, which I copy before burying my face in his neck. Then I don't make any sounds, for I'm far too busy nibbling and licking his throat.

All the years of wanting him makes it impossible to move slowly. My hands are sliding up and down his back, and then I grab a firm hold on his shoulders. It makes it easier for me to start thrusting against him. Since I don't want to let go of him, I need some leverage.

My breath comes in haggard gasps, and my whole world is reduced to this frenzied act of love-making. Life-making, actually. My hard erection brushes against his on every single thrust. We're both beyond any words, but the soft sounds that fill the air -mainly gasps and moans- echo with feeling. Feeling and urgency.

I arch my neck, opening my eyes wide, and then scream as I see an ax descending towards me.

The view jolts me back to reality. I lean against the wall and try to calm my breathing. It's not the first time my fantasy has been interrupted, but I've never destroyed it myself like this. The mood is ruined now. I couldn't re-enter that scene even if I dared to try, which I don't.

So, the condemned man isn't even allowed a last fantasy. Quite a macabre thought, actually. One that's not worthy of a Jedi. Sighing, I stretch my legs and then try to meditate. After a few minutes of breathing deeply, and clearing my head of every thought, I manage to slip into the familiar patterns of a light meditation.

A soft sound pulls me out of my meditation some time later.

Glancing at the sky, I still don't see any traces of light. There are footsteps in the corridor outside my cell, and unlike the other few times I've heard that sound, they stop behind my door. I scramble up from the floor, wanting to meet the guards, or whoever is coming, on my feet.

I realize who it is a moment before the door opens. The waves of calming Force announce my Master better than a herald and a dozen blaring trumpets could.

"Padawan." Qui-Gon's voice is soft.

There will be no good news. If there were, he wouldn't send me those 'be brave' signals. The gentle tone of that rich voice, the concerned look.

"Master. I appreciate you trying."

"I wish I could have done something more. The Clan Chiefs and the Hierophant are all very sorry for what has happened, and even more for what will, but they feel that the Spirits are angry and want a retaliation."

Closing my eyes, I sigh. When look at him again, I see an understanding smile on his face.

"There might still be a chance, though."

I know he doesn't mean an escape plan. We both know perfectly well what will happen if I escape. The chaos and the killing will continue. There will be mistrust towards the Jedi. Even if I could get away from my cell, I would not escape. I can beg, scream and hope, but I can't run. That would not be right. One life for many. If it's mine, so be it.

Maybe I'm not such a failure as a Padawan after all.

I look him in his eyes. "If my death brings peace to this world, it won't be futile. I accept it as my fate." The fact that I actually mean it amazes me a little.

"Don't let go of hope yet, Obi-Wan." My Master's voice is now wry, just like his smile. "Somehow I don't think your destiny is to die on this planet."

Since I know he wouldn't just say that to make me feel better, his words comfort me. I nod. "If you say so, Master."

"I do. Everything will be all right."

I don't know what to say. Usually I'm able to say something, even if it's just 'Yes, Master', but now I'm at a loss for words. The silence stretches as he seems to be content to just stand there and stare at me. It's not a reproachful stare, far from it. There's gentle approval in his eyes. For what, I have no idea.

His presence is calming me, soothing me. It's almost amazing how peaceful a moment like this can be. Nothing has changed, I'm still standing in this cell, hearing only trickles of water dripping onto the floor from somewhere, waiting for my execution. Still, I'm feeling like nothing bad can happen. Not as long as I'm with him. The feeling is so good, I'm not even ashamed of the naivete of my thoughts.

One of the guards clears his throat and Qui-Gon nods. "Time for me to go." He reaches out with his hand and squeezes my shoulder. "Courage."

Then I'm once again alone in my cell.

When the guards finally come for me, they come alone. I'm somewhat disappointed. Death would be far easier to face with the calming presence of my Master by my side. But no, there's just these two burly Asturans.

They brought me a small bowl of water, and I wash my face. After that, I run my fingers through my short hair and then brush the dirt off my robe. I don't want to look like a slob when I die.

My eyes meet the gaze of one of the guards, and I'm surprised to see respect there.

It occurs to me that even with the civil war raging in Astura, these people aren't really all that violent. Without outside influence, the dispute between the clans would never have escalated into a full scale war. Damn the Hutts, the Federation and their greed!

This culture is full of sagas about heroes who became legends by seeking for peace, not mighty battles. Even their religion is peaceful. Rituals of life and mating. These people respect life and traditions. The living Force, they choose to call the Spirits. Only disrespect of those things make them want to shed blood. Apparently there hasn't been a human sacrifice here for over a thousand years. Before today, that is.

Now that I've foolishly jeopardized the peace negotiations, and am about to give my life to make things better again, I guess the Asturans might see me as a hero. Someone who's bringing them all life and peace by dying. They might even sing songs of my death in years to come.

That does not make dying any easier.

When I'm as refreshed as possible, I nod to the guards and then we all march into the hallway. Since people here have respect for the Jedi, I'm not chained or bound. Nor am I pushed around. Actually, it might look more like the men following me are my bodyguards. Being more than just slightly amusing, that thought keeps me from turning into a puddle of fear right there in the hallway.

We leave the palace by a side door, and then walk a few meters to the slightly larger building that is situated right next to the House of the Clan Chiefs. Apparently the Asturans truly revere the Spirits more than they do their leaders.

Even the strongest weapon against fear – humor - doesn't work as the huge doors of the temple come into my range of vision. I really have to concentrate on keeping my pace measured. There are few people on the streets -it's quite obvious where they are- so I don't have to keep my expression in check. Biting my lower lip, I move my feet in time to my heartbeat. My normal heartbeat, that is. The sound that's pounding in my ears is definitely faster than usually.

The journey to from the palace to the temple doesn't take more than a few minutes. Too bad. It's dawn, my last sunrise, and the pale pink sky is something I could watch for a long time. Ironically, it's the first dry Spring day after weeks of constant rain. The wind is soft, warm. It's blowing the faint scent of blossoming flowers towards me, and I take a deep breath. The day really is too beautiful for dying.

One of the guards -the one who gave me that odd look- pounds on the door, which opens almost immediately. So, they have been expecting us. We're still standing right outside the large building, and even though I promised myself to do this with dignity, without looking back, the temptation is too strong. I glance over my shoulder at the horizon, catching a last glimpse of the morning sun.

The guard meets my gaze again as I turn to look straight ahead and step into the temple. His eyes are clearly brimming.

I avert mine. He has the luxury of showing his emotions. I don't. On a mission like this, I'm not exactly a private person. I'm a representative of the Republic. A Jedi. My pace quickens a little. Let's just get this over with before I really start to think of what is going to happen and start to scream.

The inner doors to the temple are closed, too, but this time the guard doesn't have to knock. When we're close enough to almost bump into them, the doors open slowly.

I was right. The temple is full of people, all dressed in white, for mourning. They aren't happy to see me die, they're here to witness me pay for my disrespect for their customs. So that they can tell their children and grandchildren what happens when you anger the Spirits.

Sorrow and regret are floating all around me. It's easy to figure out what the people are thinking. In a way, I'm the last victim of the war. The last person to die because of it. This day, which is a day of peace, will be remembered as a day of death, too. I really hope they'll remember this, and never again fight against each other.

"Bring him over here."

I flinch at the sound of the Hierophant's voice and then tense as two hands grab my shoulders. The guards are now gently guiding me forward, not pushing, but clearly steering me towards the altar. This must be a part of the ritual.

Ritual. Isn't escapism just great? This is not just an ordinary ritual. This is a ritual in which I'll die. I suddenly have an almost uncontrollable urge to beg the Hierophant to allow me to pay for my stupidity by giving the Spirits my virginity instead of my head.

Not that I still have my virginity. So much for that thought.

Then all the thoughts just fly away from my already nearly empty head. The crowd is parting, creating a pathway to the altar and the Hierophant. And that's when I see it.

The altar. It's fully decorated with flowers. My gaze just slides over it, as another thing catches my attention, almost taking my breath away. A log on which rests a huge old ax.

My steps falter, and I'm grateful for the slight squeeze the friendly guard gives me. It reminds me of all the things I thought about earlier. Duty, responsibility. It doesn't make the next steps any easier, but it makes it possible for me to take them. I concentrate on moving my feet, not thinking about anything else.

The guards halt, and the three of us stand still for a moment. Then the hands are lifted from my shoulders when a white-robed man steps from behind the altar and walks to me. Only his height reveals his gender, for the hood of his robe hides his face as well as the rest of his head. He guides me towards the place of the execution, not saying a word.

I have to clench my hands into fists when I realize who the man is. Otherwise my trembling would become so bad, that I couldn't control it. Keeping my eyes off my executioner, I let my gaze wander again.

A familiar figure stands right beside the log. I sigh, but out of relief or desperation, I don't know. His presence makes this easier for me, but it must be very hard for my teacher to stand there and watch me lose my life.

I open myself to the Force, needing to share that thought with him, and then almost recoil back, when all I feel from him is serenity.

How can he be so calm and composed? There's no trace of any emotion in him. He's the epitome of a perfect Jedi. Master Qui-Gon Jinn watching his foolish Padawan marching towards certain death. I thought he'd at least feel disappointment at losing another apprentice, but there's not even that.

There's the loud sound of a gong, and my heart jumps at the sound. No one's making any noise, it's like they’re all waiting for something.

Yeah. We all know what that is.

The aged man in front of me clasps his hands together. "A crime has been committed. A crime against the Spirits, against the continuation of life. We're here to beg for the Spirits to grant us a new Spring of life by making a proper sacrifice."

The soft touch of the hooded man's hand on my shoulder urges me to go down on my knees.

Kneeling in front of the log is quite possibly the hardest thing I've ever had to do. To see that sharp blade up close makes me dizzy. Funny, how I can still keep from screaming. I keep my eyes on the white marble floor, idly wondering who will clean all the blood up off it after this is done. I'm just about to start thinking about what will happen to my head, since there's no basket into which it could just neatly drop, as the old priest walks closer to me. Good. I don't think that my last thoughts should be about my cut head bouncing on the floor.

"In the absence of a willing sacrifice, the offender shall now be offered to the Spirits as an apology. Let the silence prove my words to be true." The Hierophant raises his hands, surveying the crowd.

My heartbeat is pounding in my ears, louder than ever. I have no idea how long the ritual will be, but I'm definitely not anxious for it to end. Raising my gaze once again to meet the robed figure standing next to the Clan Chiefs, I wonder if I should try to send my warm feelings to the man I've loved for some time, as a farewell.

The only thing that stops me is that I don't want to burden him with my fear and dread, for surely he will sense them too if I lower my shields.

My gaze is the only way to communicate with my Master and even that is taken from me as he turns to stare at the Hierophant. The old man takes a deep breath and I know that as soon as he says something, my life will be over. Without even turning to look, I know that the hooded man is reaching for the ax.

This is it. The end. One swing of that ax, and there's no more me. No chance to see things, feel things, say things.

All my good intentions melt like snow in the desert as the thought finally penetrates my thick skull. There's no more time for me to do anything. All I have is this one last moment.

I open my mouth to say the words. He must know this before I die. He needs to hear me say it, and I need to say it.

"The Spirits need not settle for an unwilling sacrifice. I will gladly give my life to them."

For a fraction of a second I think that I've heard wrong, but no, I really did hear that. Now my eyes confirm my ears. Qui-Gon is walking towards us, his hands hidden in his sleeves, his head held high. He's staring straight at the man standing in front of the altar, looking like he's just on a stroll.

My mouth is so dry, I can't even croak my objections. So I gather my strength and project the loud 'NO' to him. That silent scream doesn't affect him in any way, he's still advancing us.

The Hierophant looks shocked. "What is the meaning of this? Do not interrupt this sacred moment!"

"I mean no disrespect." My Master bows his head a little. "However, your own tradition states that I may offer myself to be sacrificed instead of the boy. 'In the absence of a willing sacrifice'. Your own words, your Excellency. Now you have it. I'm more than willing to give my life to the Spirits."

No! My own death I can handle -after all, what choice do I have after I'm dead- but to see him die because of me is impossible. The guilt and regret would be the cheapest one way ticket to the Dark Side. I finally get my voice to function. "No."

The command is very clear in my mind. 'Be still, Padawan. Do not question me.'

Qui-Gon's mental link holds no fear, no hesitation. What now? Does he really think I could watch him give his life for mine? Not to question him? 'I will not allow this! If one of us has to die, let it be me!'

"Why are you invoking an old custom that hasn't been used for centuries?" The Hierophant's voice interrupts my thoughts. "Why are you giving up your life for this boy?"

"I'm doing it out of duty, respect and love. He is my Apprentice, and I'm responsible for what he's done. I also respect your customs and am willing to please the Spirits by offering my life as an atonement for my Padawan's crime so there can truly be peace on your world." There's a small pause before he continues, "A Jedi Master teaches the Padawan out of love for the living Force."

It's difficult to concentrate on his words, when all that Force he's talking about is holding me down, muffling all the objections I'm trying to shout out. How dare he do something like this? To condemn me to live with this on my conscience? I send those thoughts to him, begging him to withdraw his offer, trying to convince him that his death will most probably drive me away from the Jedi, to live somewhere outside the Republic, where no one has even heard of the Force.

'You're stronger than that. You will continue your education and will one day be a great Jedi Knight.'

I try to figure out something he would listen to. 'And will be driven to the Dark Side because of all the guilt I'd feel. I'd rather die here.'

There is a slight tremor in the Force, but then his strong words echo in my mind. 'Don't be foolish, Obi-Wan. You will never turn to the Dark. Now stop arguing.' All this time he's keeping his eyes on the old man, waiting for his answer.

My Master's emotions swirl all around me, a soothing blanket. There's no fear or hesitation. He's completely accepted his fate.

Quite different from a certain person who just spent the hours of his incarceration sniveling like a baby. Just like this whole situation is definitely worse than any of my nightmares.

The crowd in the great hall is getting restless. I can hear separate words, but nothing to form coherent sentences. The Hierophant is looking dazed, as if he's trying very hard to remember something. I pray that he will decline Qui-Gon's offer.

With my Master holding me down with his mental strength, I can't even beg the Hierophant to let me give my life to the Spirits. At this point, I'm more than a willing sacrifice. Given the chance, I could just whack my own head off right now.

The old man frowns a little and whispers a silent prayer to the air. Then he shakes his head. "The Spirits will not accept your life as a sacrifice, Master Jinn."

That one simple sentence shocks my Master so badly, I manage to gasp out, "Thank you!" Feeling his control slip totally off me, I can finally relax. I reach out for Qui-Gon, with the intention of letting him know that I am at peace with this. That it's not all that hard to die now, knowing that he'll continue on with his life.

When my mind brushes against his, every thought of peace disappears.

This time I can sense something else than serenity from my Master. There's a stab of fear, not for him, but for me. The calmness with which he was facing death is gone, replaced by terror. I now understand that he managed to control his feelings earlier by concentrating on his plan. Now that his hands are tied, the fear of losing me is almost overwhelming him.

He doesn't show it in any way, but I can feel it through our mental link.

"Why? Have I offended them somehow?" The years of meditation must make it possible for Qui-Gon to keep his voice calm, since it's not even trembling. I can sense his anxiety grow, though.

I'm in awe. Even in the dark hours of last night, I never felt such desperation as I can now sense in him. I'm beginning to realize that no matter who dies here, the other one will lose a big part of himself. It's his duty as my Master to keep me safe and if I die, he's failed. All these years together have formed a deep bond between us, and I know he cares about me. My death will rob him of a Padawan, but also a friend. If he dies, I'll lose half my soul.

A no-win situation.

The Hierophant's expression is emotionless, but his voice is gentle. "No. Quite the opposite. Your willingness to give your life for your young apprentice pleases them and all he has done is forgiven."

It takes me about two seconds to understand what he's saying. Then I slowly rise to my feet. "You mean no one will die here?"

"Yes. Your disrespectful act is forgiven." The old man is smiling now. "You're free to go, even though it would be a great honor for us if you -both of you- stayed here for the celebration tonight."

I don't dare to say anything, for opening my mouth will certainly release a scream, and I just nod. My Master answers for the both of us. "The honor is ours. We will be there."

The Hierophant clasps his hands together and bows. "You have brought much joy to my world. With your help, and now with your courage. My people will remember this day forever. May the Spirits be with you. Both of you."

"With you and your people, too." Qui-Gon bows at him and then at the Clan Chiefs.

I copy the gestures and then follow him when he turns around and marches towards the door. The crowd parts so we can walk straight out of the room. For that I'm eternally grateful. My legs are shaking, and I really want to get away from all the people before the relief starts to show. I've kept myself together this far, and my self esteem demands that I leave this place with decorum.

My Master seems to sense my feelings, and he quickens his pace.

The way to the door seems to be miles long. Even though the faces all around us are happy now, I feel like crying. Or maybe screaming. Or jumping for joy.

Finally we step out of the hall into the corridor. When the huge doors close behind us, I let out a small gasp and sway a little. A strong wave of the Force surrounds me, keeping me from falling down. It's his presence, his strength that's holding me in one piece. I can't concentrate on anything else but him standing next to me. Alive.

I know that we're moving, but my mind can't process that information right now, when every single brain-cell is preoccupied with the idea of days to come. Days I'll be able to see. Days I'll spend with Qui-Gon.

The whole trip to our quarters is like a dream. I only know that I could never have made it on my own.

"Obi-Wan?"

The worried question jolts me back to reality. I look around and see the familiar bedroom. How did we get here?

"Padawan? Are you all right?"

Realizing that my silence is not a good sign to my Master, I blink a few times and try to collect my thoughts. "Yes, I'm fine." The answer is automatic. It's also a very big lie. A shiver runs down my spine, and then I'm shaking uncontrollably.

Strong arms wrap around me and my head is pulled to rest on Qui-Gon's chest.

His words are calm, but I can feel that he's not really as composed as he'd like me to think. Or maybe it's just my own shock I'm sensing, floating in the room. "It's all right. You're safe now."

How can I even doubt that when he's holding me tight?

There's a short moment when I have to school my expression -and more importantly, my emotions- so that I can face him. I'm glad that he's obviously as overwhelmed by this as I am. With all this pandemonium inside my head, it's impossible to distinguish any separate emotions in him. I just hope it's the same for him.

It has to be. My love must be radiating from me, and still he's standing here, holding me. If he sensed my feelings, he'd either want to talk about them, or -in my dreams- hold me closer. He's doing neither.

My arms are still wrapped around him, and I have no intention of letting him go before I have to. I have this ridiculous mental image of holding him like this forever, making everyday life definitely more difficult. It would be funny to see Mace Windu's face when my Master walks in the Council room with me draped all over him.

Realizing that I'm very close to the point of no return, where every sane thought disappears from my head, and I'm reduced to a hysterically giggling pile at his feet, I take a deep breath and finally manage to move a little farther from Qui-Gon.

"Master." I'm actually quite proud of my tone. It's exactly the way it's supposed to be. Calm and clear.

The slightly amused look in my Master's eyes tells me that he's not fooled for a second. "Well, Padawan. This has been quite a morning."

I suddenly realize that not even an hour has passed since the sun rose. That's right. I was supposed to die at dawn. "So it has been." I fight against the yawn that tries to escape me. After an agonizing night, I feel exhausted.

"We should probably spend the day in our quarters, resting. Tomorrow, we'll return to Coruscant, but tonight we have something to celebrate." He allows a smile spread on his lips, too. "We have an evening off. Let's make the most of it and just have fun."

Oh, I'd almost forgotten all about that. I nod at him, knowing that the suggestion to rest is a good one. "Yes, Master."

Qui-Gon stares me straight in the eyes. There's something odd in his gaze, a feeling, or a thought, I don't quite understand. "I'm very proud of you, Padawan." I can see his hand coming into my range of vision, moving slowly towards my face. For just a second I think that he's going to caress my cheek, and my breath catches. Then he pats my shoulder, just like when I was still a child. "Get some sleep. I'll come for you when it's time."

When my Master turns to leave me, I realize that there's something I need to know before I can sleep. Before my mind can rest, actually. I'm almost dead on my feet. Oops. Bad choice of words. "Master? I need to ask you this. Did you know that your offer would save us both? Was this your plan all along?"

He stops, but doesn't turn back to me. The room is quiet for a moment. Then he sighs and shakes his head. "No."

"You would have died for me?"

"I would have." Qui-Gon's tone is unreadable. "I failed to prevent your mistake, thusly failing as your Master. It's my duty to guide you, Padawan. Through any and every hardship."

I bow my head, wondering if I'll ever be as dedicated as he is. Even though I was willing to die if it saved his life, I wasn't doing it as a Padawan for his Master. "You did not fail. I did. And you almost paid with your life for my foolishness."

"That may be so. But it was a price I was ready to pay." Now there's amusement in his voice again.

Sometimes I just don't get him. How can he find anything amusing in this situation? I stifle a yawn, realizing that he wouldn't have seen it anyway a moment later. My mind has joined my body in the cry for sleep, demanding that I shut up and go to bed, but I can't obey it. Not yet.

"Please, if we ever get in this situation again, promise me that you'll let me pay for my own deeds." Considering the number of missions we have every single year, it's not all that far fetched to think that this might happen again. "Don't offer your life for mine again."

My Master shakes his head slightly. His words are barely louder than a whisper, but I can still hear steely determination in them. "That, my Padawan, is the one thing I cannot promise you." Then he walks out of the room, leaving me standing there with my mouth open.

"Qui-Gon?" My voice is too quiet for him to hear. I want to run after him and demand what he meant by that, but the way I stumble as I take a small step towards the door makes me decide against it. In this condition I'll probably just mess things up. The exhaustion -both mental and physical- is making me feel too dizzy to do any serious thinking.

Maybe a few hours of sleep will make everything more clear. Maybe I will understand it after a short nap. Maybe...

The bed is only a few steps away from me, steps I manage to take before collapsing into a snoring heap.

Sleeping fully clothed is truly disgusting.

That's the first thought in my head when I wake up. I peel off my robe, letting it fall on the floor, and then move to get my tunic off. As soon as all my clothes are on the floor, I scurry to the small bathroom adjoining my bedroom, not even bothering to turn on the light. I feel really grimy and the last thing I need is for my Master to see me like this.

Dirty, I mean. Not naked.

The hot water does wonders for my mood. Even with more than eight hours of sleep, I feel like my time in bed wasn't any longer than a few minutes. The shower is far more refreshing. It also clears my head. Now that I'm not in mortal danger anymore, I find it easy to put all the questions and dread behind me. I'll think of everything that's happened as soon as we get back to Coruscant. Tonight, I'm going to have some fun, just like Qui-Gon suggested.

It seems that things might turn out well after all. These festivities could very well provide me the chance to fulfill my fantasy. Yeah, yeah, I know that with my little mishap, there won't be the traditional ceremony. There'll probably be lots of drinking and feasting and dancing, though. It would be easy to let go of continual Jedi control, and finally do something.

Okay, so I probably won't. But like I said earlier, a man can always dream. Whatever happens -or doesn't happen- tonight, I'll still have some fun.

The lukewarm water is effectively rinsing all the lather, washing me clean from all the dirt and sweat. It's amazing how sweaty hours of waiting and fearing for one's life will make a person.

I stand under the spray a little longer than necessary, and then reluctantly turn the water off. The towels here are huge and soft, quite different from the ones they brought to the cell. I bury my face in the terrycloth, breathing in the flowery scent that still lingers on it. Just like the scent from the soap I just used. Then I wrap the towel around my waist, reaching out for another one for my hair.

It needs some serious toweling, even though it's really short. I smile, thinking of how easy it is to keep this hairstyle neat. Much less trouble than long hair. Like Qui-Gon has. Long, soft, wonderful...

I snap out of the beginning of yet another daydream. I'm supposed to get ready for the celebration, not have another fantasy about my Master. With the one I had in the cell and all the thoughts I've had since, I think I've used up my daily quota of sexual fantasies. Besides, he can come to my door any minute now, and I really don't think I should be standing in the bathroom, touching myself and thinking about him when he arrives.

Squeezing water from my long thin braid, I step into the bedroom area. It's dark in there, and I turn to find the light switch before I stumble into the furniture. With my luck, I'll fall on my face and break something.

"My Padawan."

It's a reflex. Even though I know there's only one person in the galaxy who calls me that, I reach out and the lightsaber jumps to my hand. In the bright blue light I see the smiling face of my Master.

"Very good."

"You startled me, Master." I switch the weapon off. "I wasn't expecting anyone."

His robe rustles, and then the room is bathed in soft light as his hand brushes over the light switch. "Still, your reflexes are excellent."

I blink a few times, wondering how I should respond. When I can't think of anything intelligent to say -see, there's definitely a pattern here-, I just bow my head a little. Then I realize that Qui-Gon is dressed



in his heavy travelling robe, his lightsaber hanging from his belt. The



small bundle, in which he carries most of his possessions, is on the floor right next to him.

"Are we going somewhere?"

The nod he gives me makes my heart sink. "Yes. I received a priority one message from Coruscant. We're needed in Oekhidia to help them with a squabble over succession. There's a ship waiting for us."

I should have known this would happen! I should have known that my dreams of spending some time with Qui-Gon, just relaxing, and having fun, were foolish. Just like hoping that somehow we'd get together in these settings. I swear, I'll never have that particular fantasy again.

"We'll leave as soon as you're ready. I've already informed the Clan Chiefs about the sudden change of plans, and witnessed the signing of the peace treaty. I also gave the Hierophant my regrets for not being able to join in the celebration tonight. He understood the importance of our hasty exit, and sent you his blessings."

I have to concentrate, but I manage to keep the sigh inside. "He was very kind to do so, Master. If we're really in a hurry, I'll start packing at once." As soon as I get dressed, that is.

My Master watches me fumble for clothes for a while. Then he makes a small sound that's like a mixture of a snort and a chuckle. "I'll wait at the shuttle."

It's easier to just drop the towel and pull the fresh tunic on once he's out of the room. A Jedi Apprentice is still a human -or some other living being- and not made of stone. Even though I know he won't stare, I have some problems with getting naked in front of him right now. Mainly because the probable effect his presence will have on my body.

Like I said, I'm a teenager.

Once I'm properly dressed, I stuff my dirty clothes into my canvas bag, and then scurry to the hallway. I can't keep my Master waiting, now can I?

Three days. It's been three days since we left Astura, and I think I'm going mad.

I'm not being melodramatic here. I mean it. Mad. Insane. Losing my mind. For three days I've spent every waking hour with the Oekhidians, who seem to find everything about me funny. My appearance, the way I speak and move. I, on the other hand, keep my mouth shut about how they look, babble and hop around the shuttle.

For a small amphibious race, the Oekhidians surely are annoying. Maybe it's the number of them, scores of them following me around all the time, all wanting something from me. Advice, opinion, or, on occasion, even a helping hand. After fixing that leaking faucet, I asked for a moment of peace, and got it. A moment of approximately two standard minutes. Then they were all over me again.

Too bad they can't be affected by using the Force. Putting all the crewmen on board the vessel to sleep would probably be unethical, but it would do wonders for my sanity.

All these negative and sarcastic thoughts make my conscience kick in, but unlike most of the times I've felt bad about my feelings, this time I can't help thinking that there's a very good reason for my attitude.

Yes, a Jedi should be tolerant and without prejudice. And I am. I really am. I guess I'm just a bit moody. As much as I hate the days with the short, green Oekhidians, I dread the nights I spend with my Master more.

That's quite a sentence, isn't it? Nights I spend with Qui-Gon. On this shuttle, we share everything. Even the cabin, and the bed. The craft isn't actually all that tiny, but considering the number of Oekhidians here, there's not much room for two grown men.

I haven't slept well for three nights. Every time I close my eyes, I start to wonder if my mental shields will hold during the whole night. The night I'll spend lying so close to him that our bodies are constantly pressed against each other.

Need I even say that this is not a good thing?

To make things worse, Qui-Gon is his usual calm self. The Oekhidians treat him the same way they treat me, but he's answering their questions and helping them with their little problems patiently. In other words, he's acting like a perfect Jedi Master.

I've had to deal with feelings of inadequacy as well as annoyance and desperation. A Padawan of my age should be able to center himself, to tolerate different kinds of beings and their idiosyncrasies. Even with the extremely disturbing presence of his beloved Master in his bed.

Maybe I really should talk to someone about my feelings. Obviously meditating on them isn't working anymore. Or maybe it would, if I had some privacy. The thought of confiding in someone is a good one, but when I try to figure out whom I trust enough to reveal my soul to - besides my Master-, the only answer is Master Yoda. I already know what he'd suggest, and I'm definitely not going to talk to Qui-Gon about my feelings. I don't want to do anything that might disturb our relationship.

That means that I’ll need some extra time to meditate as soon as we get back to Coruscant. I can't let this mess with my head any longer. Just look what I'm doing right now, standing here, daydreaming, when I should be paying attention to the dozen piping voices that all demand my attention.

Sighing, I turn my concentration back to the Oekhidians.

It's no wonder that the government of the small non-aligned world asked for the help of the Jedi. I mediate a fight over a broken vase, helping the persons involved to see that it was really just an accident, and then once again use my skill with the Force to open a blastdoor, that was stuck.

In a way, this mission is exactly what I need to remind me of the duty of the Jedi. No matter how foolish, or small the mission, we must do our best to serve. Keeping that in mind, I manage to even smile at the next little pest who has a problem for me to solve.

We're scheduled to arrive on Oekhidia in two days. Even though days and nights don't really matter in space, my internal chronometer is keeping track of the normal daily cycle.

Right now it's making suggestions that I get some food now, so that my body has the time to digest some of it before it's time to get to bed. I try to banish the thought of beds from my head and walk towards one of the small storage rooms where we eat.

My loyal companions follow me there, making pleased sounds at the idea of getting something to eat.

I glance over my shoulders a few times, because I feel like one of them is definitely too close to me, sliding a hand up the back of my thigh, but every time I turn around, there's no one close enough to touch me. Trying to shrug the feeling off, I jump a few seconds later, as the soft touch returns.

Again, there's no one near me. Well all that close, anyway.

That's odd. The next time I feel that touch, I just ignore it, and continue walking. There's a slight tremor in the Force, and I wonder if something's going on with my Master. Then I shrug the thought off as wistful thinking. If there was something he wanted to tell me, he would talk to me, not fondle my butt. I chasten myself for that completely improper thought. And the mental image. I can't let my imagination hinder my everyday work.

I pick up a plate, and fill it with some sort of porridge. Adding some sliced fruit makes the dish quite tasty, and I carry my food to a table. There's a lot of squabbling and bickering near the table, as the small creatures try to fill their own plates. I try to block out the noise and start to eat.

At least these people know how to cook. I've been up for over ten hours, and I'm famished. The food disappears from my plate quickly, and I have to remind myself a few times that chewing helps to prevent indigestion.

The sudden silence makes me almost reach for my lightsaber. There's something ominous in it.

I look up, and see one of the commanders of the ship, D'yei, standing at the door, looking a little grayish. All the other Oekhidians are gathered around him, bouncing slightly, but not making any sound. Since none of them are looking at me, I don't pay much attention to them, and continue cleaning my plate.

Raising the spoon to my mouth again, I wonder if I could sleep on the floor tonight. Then I dismiss the idea, knowing that even though my Master respects my privacy, he will want to know the reason why I don't want to sleep with him. That thought makes me almost drop the spoon. If only it was about not wanting to do just that. Right now that's about the only thing I do want to do. I just want it too much.

I scoop up the rest of the porridge with the spoon, and then promptly choke on the food, as someone jumps against me. Coughing helps me to clear my airways, so that I don't die from the lack of oxygen, and then I turn to see what attacked me.

D'yei. He's the only other person in the room, all the others have disappeared somewhere. I'm not all that interested where, though, as long as they stay there more than just a few minutes.

The small Oekhidian is pulling my sleeve, trying to get my attention. When he realizes that he's got it, he bows deeply and removes his hands from me. How curious.

"Padawan-Jedi."

I hide the sigh, not even bothering to correct him. I gave up on that yesterday. It seems that they won't grasp the concept that titles and names are separate things, so I let them call me whatever they want to. "Yes?" The hesitancy in the Oekhidian is something I haven't seen before, and now I'm really curious to hear what's causing it.

"Master-Jedi in trouble. He eat bjuba-fruit!" D'yei nods frantically. "Bad. Very bad."

"How bad?" I rise to my feet, not paying any attention to the spoon that falls to the floor from my nerveless fingers. My mind is racing, all kinds of terrible images bubbling up from my subconscious. Qui-Gon lying on the floor with his face black. A half-eaten fruit still clenched in his fist. I reach out for him with my mind, feeling chilly as I don't get any answer.

"Bad," He continues nodding.

"*How bad?" I ground it out from between clenched teeth. "Where is he?"

D'yei makes a small whimpering sound and bounces a few times. "Takes away control. Bjuba-fruit. Very bad. Very bad."

I sigh with relief. There's nothing to worry then. "My Master is in no danger. He can control himself no matter what."

"No. No. Oekhidians in control with bjuba. Bjuba make feel good. Very good. Others get mad. Hurt themselves. Hurt others. Need others." The little head is nodding again. "Contact. Need contact with others or die."

Contact? Die? "What do you mean?"

The green skin is getting a purplish tinge and the bouncing gets even worse. "Need another body. Skin against skin. That control is lost."

I'm definitely dreaming here. The long sleeves of my robe make it easy for me to pinch myself so that D'yei doesn't notice. Ouch. No, I'm not sleeping. "You mean that..."

"Yes, yes. That's what I mean." The poor creature is fully flustered now.

Apparently these Oekhidians are more prudish than I've thought. "Where is he?"

"No. Dangerous to go there. Grabs you as soon as sees you. Too late now. Too far gone. Hurts you."

"You said that he'll die if he doesn't have contact with others. I'm not going to let that happen." Not if I can do something about it. "Take me to him."

D'yei seems to almost shrink under my gaze. His voice is small when he answers, pointing down the corridor with one webbed hand. "Your cabin."

I don't waste time talking to him. After nodding briefly, I run towards our cabin. Dozens of thoughts stumble into each other in my head. How did Qui-Gon get that fruit? Is someone trying to sabotage our mission? Or was it just a freak accident? Why did this happen now? What should I do next? Can I just walk there and offer my assistance?

Assistance? My body. My skin against his.

While under the influence of some drug, it won't be making love. It won't be sweet and gentle. If that fruit is strong enough to erode a Jedi Master's control, it's strong enough to drive him to just take what he wants. What he needs.

Oh please, let that be me.

It takes some time to reach the place where we are quartered during the trip. I can't run the whole time, for some of the corridors are so small, I'm forced to creep ahead. I run into a few Oekhidians, but unlike all the other times, they don't even say a word to me. They just take one look at my face, and scurry out of my way. The word of what's happened must have spread around, and they know that Force-resistant or not, it's not exactly a good idea to stand in the way of a frantic Jedi.

When I finally get to my destination, I stand in the corridor outside our little room for a moment, wondering if I'm really doing the right thing.

It's hard to stay calm, knowing that when I finally step inside, I'll probably see something I've never dreamed of seeing. Something so ridiculous even my imagination hasn't been able to conceive; Qui-Gon Jinn all wild and uncontrolled.

The whole idea of my Master being out of control is actually rather ridiculous. If the prospect of dying didn't shake his control over his actions, why would a stupid fruit do that?

I've never even heard of that fruit before, but if its effects on non-Oekhidians are really what D'yei said, I'm glad that this bjuba's existence isn't common knowledge. The Hutts would definitely take an interest in Oekhidia if they heard of it. There are many fruits and roots in the galaxy that are used as aphrodisiacs, but most of them can't affect a disciplined mind.

Maybe this one can't either. If anyone, Qui-Gon definitely has a disciplined mind. He could very well be perfectly fine, and I'm just worrying over nothing.

Somehow that thought doesn't make me feel any better. I don't know if it's just my mind playing tricks with me, but I could swear that I felt something odd from our bond earlier, besides that strange feeling of being touched. I'm convinced that the fruit is doing things to his mind, but I have no idea how strongly it can affect a Jedi Master.

Only one way to find out.

I step inside our cabin. At first I don't see anyone. So my fear -or hope- of being grabbed and thrown on the floor while strong hands tear my robe was really unnecessary.

As I walk farther into the room, I see him. My Master is lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. When I get even closer, I recognize the position of his hands and that deep, even breathing. He's in a meditative trance.

Great! He obviously realized that something was wrong and took precautions to prevent from hurting anyone.

He's taking a great personal risk in going into such a deep trance. It seems to be even deeper than the one used to heal, and, from experience, I can say that that's as unconscious as one can get.

If our ship is attacked while his body is purging itself of the aphrodisiac and we need to leave the burning wreckage behind, it's probable that he'll die. It'll be almost impossible to carry him to an escape pod. I may be a well trained Padawan, but the narrow and maze- like corridors combined with the tall body of my Master will neatly prevent me from doing anything productive.

Damn. That's just like Qui-Gon, to think about others before he thinks of himself. To risk his own life rather than risk hurting someone. He's so darn loyal and honorable. And I love him for it.

I drag a chair next to the bed and sit down to watch over him. The Oekhidians can manage the ship. There's no way I'm leaving my Master alone like this. If something disturbs his trance, I want to be here to help him.

Not that anything will probably disturb it. Damn.

Even this is robbed from me. I realize that if he'd grabbed me in a drug induced haze, we would have had a lot to talk about later on, but at least that way we'd have a way to start that conversation. Without some kind of an incentive, I don't think we'll ever talk about my feelings.

I have the courage to face battles and heated discussions. Angry monarchs and sharp objects. When thinking about talking to him, I suddenly lose my nerve.

It's suddenly a bit warm in here, and I shrug my heavy robe off. I'm feeling a little odd. I've never faced such a silence with my Master.

Qui-Gon is lying very quietly. It's almost like he's not a living, breathing being, but a wax doll, looking just like my Master. I can't help staring at his chest. The urge to touch it, in order to feel that he's really breathing, is almost overwhelming. Thinking that it wouldn't be such a good idea to touch him while he's like this, I turn my gaze away from him.

After all, I know that he's alive. We share a bond, and even though it's not the one I yearn it to be, it's enough to make me aware of his life-force.

The dimly lit room holds my interest for about thirty standard seconds, and then I return my gaze to him. I don't let it linger on his chest this time, fearing that I'll start obsessing about his breathing again. His face draws my attention first. I've seen him sleeping before, but this is different. Knowing what must be going through his head makes me wonder if some of his desires might show on his face.

They don't. He looks just as peaceful as he always does while he's meditating.

Feeling a little disappointed, I avert my eyes from his face just to glue them to somewhere lower on his body a second later. No, the effects of that fruit don't show on his face, but they sure do somewhere else.

My mouth is suddenly dry and even though I try really hard, I can't tear my gaze off that indication that the bjuba-fruit really works on Jedi Masters, too. I stare, and stare, feeling that I'm ready to faint.

Even in my fantasies, I've never imagined I’d get to 'see' his aroused state. Somehow I've just always been with him, never watched him.

Until now. And this is reality, not fantasy.

It's not exactly appropriate for me to ogle at my Master's groin, but I can't help it. The outlines of his arousal are perfectly visible under the cloth of his pants. If I've ever had any thoughts about the reality paling compared to daydreaming, I've been wrong. I don't feel shocked, or nervous. I just want him. More than ever. More than anything.

My hand, the same one that almost landed on his chest, is now slowly moving towards him again. Not to rest on his chest, though. I yank it back just seconds before it brushes against the cloth over his erection, and I feel heat rising to my cheeks.

What am I doing?

This isn't just inappropriate, it's wrong. I cross my arms across my chest and sit back. I'll continue my silent vigil, but I will not shame us both by touching him. The temptation is hard to resist, but I keep my eyes on his face. The calm look reminds me of what is really going on here, and I'm almost able to forget the condition his body is showing. Almost.

But his body, that marvelous body isn't what I need the most. I need his mind, too. His whole life, body and soul, bonded to mine in levels that are far more intimate than our current training bond. Everything a Jedi can give to someone he loves.

The chronometer on the nightstand makes a small sound every fifteen minutes, making me aware of the time. After four such clicks, I get up and stretch. I walk to the door and back again. After a day of manual labor, sitting in a hard chair is making my nether regions tingle. And not just because of the sight in front of me. Feeling that my left arm is about to fall asleep too, I rotate the limb in question, grimacing at the loud sound my shoulder makes.

My moves have an unexpected result. I hear a small grunt coming from the bed, and rush closer to see what's wrong. It's the first sound Qui- Gon has made since I stepped into our cabin.

He's turned to his side, grasping a fistful of the sheets. I can clearly hear his breathing getting heavy, and there are small beads of perspiration on his forehead. He makes another throaty sound, a moan of pleasure mixed with pain. The strong body shudders as his hand lets go of the sheet and reaches out for something.

I have no idea of what's going on. I try to find out by opening myself to the Force. All the desire he feels for another human body almost makes me flinch. So that's the problem. Somehow the effects of the fruit are getting stronger and it seems that he might lose his fight over it after all.

In his trance state, he's still aware of what's going on, and the knowledge of being powerless in front of this aphrodisiac is quite obviously making him mad. I wonder if he's aware of my presence in this room. Realizing, that there's a very big possibility that he isn't, I decide that I should somehow make him understand that he doesn't have to fight this all alone.

"Qui-Gon..." I don't know what to say after that soft whisper. Can I be so blunt as to say that it's okay to let go and do whatever his body demands of him? Should I just take my clothes off and climb in next to him?

Even as I wonder what to do next, my Master stills. I stare at him as his whole body tenses and then curls into a small ball. His breathing is back to normal and he's not making any sound now.

The chronometer makes another soft click.

After seventeen clicks, I haven't bothered to keep count.

Two times I dozed off, only to wake up to that damn sound again. Qui- Gon is still in trance, lying on his side. I haven't dared to say anything to him, or touch him. I'm just sitting here, keeping an eye on him.

I can't say that I'm bored. Far from it actually. I've never really had a chance to just look at him like this. Knowing that he won't wake up and notice that I'm staring at him. It's very nice. I can almost pretend that this is normal. That I always stay awake for a moment to watch him sleep before I curl against him and follow him to sleep. Of course that would mean that sleeping together was something that we did all the time. Unfortunately –or fortunately, if we're talking just about sleeping here- it's not.

The Oekhidians have been surprisingly quiet for the whole time. I've heard the sound of them moving in the corridor a few times, but no one's come to see what's going on in here. That's not such a bad thing.

I've had good time to contemplate my feelings towards Qui-Gon. Hours of silence that I've spent trying to figure out whether or not to approach him with my desires. My love.

It doesn't mean that I've made a decision about what to do. Quite the contrary, actually. Every single thought of why I should let him know raises about a dozen reasons why I should just keep my mouth shut.

All I know is that I do love him. I'm not just attracted to him.

Well, that's some progress, isn't it? Lust and foolish daydreams I could ignore. Not this. Sooner or later I'll have to do something about this. Honestly? I think it'll be later.

Revealing my feelings will either make him ask for another Master for me, for the sake of my education, or my love will be meditated about, and then it'll become a part of our bond. Something we will never discuss, but that will always be there. Not a very pleasant option, but at least that way I don't have to spend hours on worrying that he'll find out.

Now if only there weren't that other option. For as much as I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Apprentice, I'm also Qui-Gon's Padawan. He's such a vital part of my whole identity, and I don't think I could adapt to another Master. One day I will be a Knight, and then it will be different, but at this stage of my life, I need him. I need our training bond.

This situation is impossible!

There's no time for me to continue worrying over this. The whole atmosphere of this room is slowly changing. Shifting into something intense. Since I've kept my shields relatively low all the time, I can feel Qui-Gon coming back to this world.

I can see him move now. Then he opens his eyes. When his gaze meets mine, he smiles and reaches out with his hand. I grab it without thinking, and then gasp as a strong wave of desire rushes from him, making my whole body tingle.

Dozens of images go through my mind, all of them uniting my Master and the idea of sex somehow. I feel an urge to do something, and concentrate on the thought before I have the chance to really consider what I'm doing. A kiss. That's it, I want to pull him closer, and kiss him. Or better yet, lower myself over his body and then seal my lips over his. I want to feel him under me, over me, his bare skin against me. The touch of his hand is heat, and I want to know how hot he can make me.

The strong images suddenly cease as Qui-Gon's mental shields snap into place. Obviously the drug is still lingering, but the trance has given him power over it. He slowly removes his hand, and then sits up on the bed. "Obi-Wan. You shouldn't be here."

"Master?"

"Something's not right." He moves himself a little farther from me. "I feel like I'm not in control of... myself."

I nod at him, keeping my expression neutral, even though I know I'm blushing slightly. "Yes, I know. D'yei told me you'd eaten some fruit the Oekhidians use as an aphrodisiac. It has some very profound effects on other races."

Qui-Gon is quiet for a moment, and then closes his eyes and concentrates on something. "Yes. It is quite strong." When his eyes open again, I can see the confusion in his gaze. "What are you doing here?"

"D'yei said that you might even die from that... lack of control. I couldn't just stay away and let that happen. I had to see that you were all right and if I could help you somehow."

He accepts my explanation without any further questions. "Thank you, Padawan."

"You're welcome." I grin at him.

Then the grin disappears from my face, as I lock my gaze into his. His eyes are burning, the last reminder of what he's just gone through. I can't look away. No one's ever looked at me with such all-consuming passion before, and even though I know it's not really for me, I can't help basking in the heat of it. My body is responding to all that desire I can feel, and my breath quickens.

"Master..."

My words make him flinch. "It's all right. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll take a shower." Qui-Gon gets to his feet. "Don't worry about the bed. I'll change the sheets once I'm clean again." He walks to the small bathroom without looking back.

Actually, it is the Padawan's duty to take care of things like that, but I can't make myself to touch those rumpled sheets. I can't peel them off the bed, all the while listening to the sounds of the sonic shower, visualizing my Master naked under the cleaning waves of electricity. The memory of his need, his arousal, is urging me to say something. Or maybe even do something. Like join him in the shower. The image of his body, all tense and aroused under the cream-colored linen is etched in my mind, and the next step to imagining him aroused without his tunic isn't all that difficult.

I have to get out of here. Muttering something about getting us something to eat, even though there's no way he can hear me now, I back out of our little cabin and then scurry down the hall towards the storage room.

I guess I should be happy that our last mission was both brief and successful. In a way I am. Billions of Oekhidians can now sleep peacefully, now there's a strong ruler sitting on their throne.

I wish I could sleep as well.

It was amazing how the whole fruit-incident changed the way the Oekhidians saw us. There were no questions, no crowding or demanding when Qui-Gon and I joined them again. They were all mystified about our condition, that we were both alive and sane. Apparently no non- Oekhidian has ever survived eating the bjuba.

I was a bit shocked to hear that, and for a few days I had a definitely unpleasant feeling between my shoulder blades. After all, it wasn't the first time someone had tried to sabotage our missions by trying to assassinate one of us.

When nothing else happened, though, I was forced to agree that maybe it had been just a freak accident.

Our arrival on the swampy planet was followed by very short negotiations. In just three quarters of an hour, there was a new queen in Oekhidia, and we could get on our way. All they had needed was someone everyone would listen to, and then to have that someone explain all the options they had. Since Qui-Gon was a kind of hero to them, they listened to him and then happily made their decision.

Five days in a shuttle, agonizing about my feelings for Qui-Gon, and then the actual negotiations lasted for less than an hour. People have gone insane for less.

At least the trip to Coruscant was more comfortable. Since the Oekhidians were celebrating their new leader, we didn't want to force anyone to leave the party behind, and rented ourselves a shuttle. The small ship was big enough for both of us to have our own room.

And now we're back home.

The Council was so impressed with our successful missions, that they gave us a free month. No more traveling through the stars. No more adventures.

It's nice to have some peace and quiet for a change. We spend the days exercising and meditating, and the evenings playing all sorts of board games, or just enjoying each other's company and talking about things.

Things are back to the way they were weeks ago. Before the threat to my life. Before I had to face my own desires on their deepest level. Before I almost lost everything that was important to me.

I've had plenty of time to meditate on my feelings. The garden inside the temple is really a perfect place for that, even though the first time I smelled the flowers after our little mission on Astura, peace of mind wasn't the thing that almost overwhelmed me.

Funny, how that word seems to haunt me. Peace. I'm finally at peace with myself. It's easier to really think about things, now that we're not in a constant hurry to get somewhere. It makes it easier to put things into a perspective. There's no need to rush things. Nothing's going to happen to threaten me or my Master any time soon, and I have all the time in the world to decide how I'm going to approach him.

And when I'm going to approach him. Right now I'm thinking about the day I pass my trials. That's as good a day as any.

It's easy to keep my mind clear these days. Kneeling here in meditation, I'm completely calm and serene.

Unfortunately, though, every night I think that my resolve will melt, when I can almost hear every time Qui-Gon turns around in his bed in the room next to mine. This always happens. I spend hours every day meditating to reach this peace, and then lose it every night.

I've come to dread the moment Qui-Gon rises to his feet and says good night to me. Watching him walk across the living room to his bedroom, and then disappear from my line of sight, my whole body, and a big part of my mind, screams at me to follow him. I refuse to listen, though.

It will be better in time. I know that for a fact. It was far worse during our mission. A few weeks from now, I will be able to distance myself from my emotions, and really be in control of myself all the time.

But for now, I think I'll meditate for one more hour.

This has been a good day. We went running at the break of dawn, and then spent a few hours in the gym. After lunch break I trained with the lightsaber, as my Master went to take care of some personal business.

It would probably surprise him to know that instead of going to have fun with my friends, I chose to come to the gardens to meditate. A few years ago I would have run from my thoughts by keeping my mind occupied with others' problems. Maybe even finding someone to spend the night with.

I can't do that anymore. I can't use anyone like that.

So I squeeze my eyes shut and concentrate on my breathing.

I've managed to find that inner balance so desperately needed, when the sound of a gong announces that it's time for the evening meal. That sound doesn't make me jump anymore, the memories of dread are now replaced by anticipation for the next few hours.

The dinner is tasty. It always is. I just don't seem to have all that much appetite these days. My jaws chew automatically, but I don't even taste what I'm eating. Still, I empty my plate, and even finish my dessert, too.

When I realize that I'm stalling, I sigh, and leave the messhall. I'm not going to sit there for half the night. It might raise some suspicions.

I open the door to our quarters, and feel an enormous wave of relief wash over me. The rooms are dark, so my Master isn't home yet.

Pulling my brown robe off, I head towards the couch. I'm a bit tired, but maybe I should read a little before going to bed. The padd is right there on the table, and I curl up at the end of the couch, getting ready to read.

Ten minutes later, I'm still staring at the same paragraph. Realizing that I'm just using the book as an excuse, I rub my eyes and put the padd down. This is really pathetic. I'm waiting here like a pet for his master to come home, even though I can't really handle seeing him.

This has to end.

Even as I hear footsteps from the hallway, knowing it's Qui-Gon, I get up and hurry to my own private bedroom.

I haven't seen him the whole day.

After spending most of the night tossing and turning, I dozed off a couple of hours before the dawn. When I woke up, I discovered that he'd already left. A note revealed that he was going to spend the whole day doing something that didn't concern me, and that I could have the day off. A whole day to do as I please.

How odd, that I find myself here in the garden again.

This time I don't try to achieve anything by meditating. Instead, I just close my eyes, and let the Force flow freely through me. I let everything go, except my shields. The serenity I find is almost overwhelming.

I find it oddly comforting to just kneel here, not having to worry about anything. At least my unrequited love has taught me to really appreciate hours spent in meditation. Now if I could just maintain this level of calm when I leave the gardens and once again face my Master.

The thought of Qui-Gon almost shatters my serenity, but after a few deep breaths, I'm able to continue meditating.

My eyes snap open again, as I feel a familiar nudge in the Force. Raising my head, I see my Master approaching me. He has a grim look on his face, and I wonder if something's happened.

I rise to my feet, adjusting my robe so that it hangs loosely from my shoulders. "Master."

"Padawan. I need to talk with you." His words are oddly subdued. "In our quarters."

Qui-Gon doesn't wait for my answer, but turns towards the entrance of the temple. I hurry after him.

I follow him through the corridors, wondering what is it all about. Nothing special has happened for a few days, but I have the nagging feeling that my Master doesn't want to just talk about the weather. I'm not overly concerned, though. If there were really bad news, he would have talked to me right there in the garden.

He doesn't stop when we reach our quarters. Crossing the living room, he heads to his own private rooms and gestures to me to follow. Seeing that I do as he wants, he walks straight to the couch and sits down. I remain standing in the middle of the room. It reminds me of all the times he used to scold me after I'd done a childish prank all those years ago, when I'd just become his Padawan. The difference is that this time I have no idea why he's summoned me here.

Clearing his throat, Qui-Gon fixes his gaze on mine. "What is it?"

I blink a few times. "Master?"

"You've been very quiet for weeks now, and I've noticed that you're not sleeping well. Something has been distracting you for some time now. Would you mind telling me what is it?"

If he is talking about what I think he's talking about, I surely do mind. Somehow I don't think it would be appropriate for me to declare my undying love for him. Fantasizing about it is all fine and dandy, but to be actually forced into this situation is making my palms sweat.

This is reality, not daydreaming. Here I truly am his student, and he's my teacher.

I suddenly realize how foolish my dreams are. How could a man like Qui- Gon Jinn ever love me? All I'll get out of confessing my feelings for him will be compassion. Maybe even pity, though he's not exactly the kind of man who'd offend me like that. I'm not ready for this yet, not ready to face rejection.

Trying to think of something that would explain my behavior without really explaining it, I keep my face calm with the last threads of my strength.

"I... I don't think I should talk about it." And now I'm a stammering idiot, too. "It... It's personal, and I don't want it to affect our relationship. Um, I mean the Master-Padawan relationship."

My Master looks me straight in the eyes, and then I see something very odd. He's blushing. Just a faint tint of pink on his cheeks. "I apologize," he says.

I can't even ask what for. His embarrassment is palpable, and I have no idea what could have caused it. Except... Oh, no! Except if something slipped my shields. And blushing in shame isn't the reaction I'd hoped for.

"I should have known this would happen." His voice is more resigned than accusing, a fact that is making me feel even more awful. "If you wish, we can go to the Council tomorrow and ask for another Master to teach you."

"*No!" I can't help shouting that out. After a few deep breaths, I'm glad to be able to continue with a normal voice. "I do not wish to be taught by anyone else. I can handle the situation, I've handled it so far."

Qui-Gon is shaking his head. "You shouldn't have to handle it. My lack of discipline is inexcusable. As a Jedi Master I should be able to control my feelings so that they don't disturb or distract you, but obviously..."

"Wait a minute! Your feelings? I thought you meant my feelings." I'm so confused now, that I don't even think about my words, before they're out of my mouth. When I see his shocked expression, I feel heat rising to my face. "You mean this isn't about them?"

"Padawan?"

Obviously not. Since the only way to get out of this extremely awkward situation is to talk it through, I open my mouth, and then all the things I've held inside for months suddenly need to be said. The words all stumble into each other in my mind, and finally I'm only able to blurt out the most obvious. "I love you."

"You love me?" He's silent for a moment. Then he cocks his head, a small smile flickering on his lips. A small, controlled smile. The one I've seen dozens of times on Jedi Master Jinn's face. "Yes, Padawan. I know that. I love you too, but..."

"No! Not like that. Master, I..." Shaking my head, I try it again. "Qui-Gon. I love you."

Since I don't usually call him by his name, I really get his attention now. "Padawan?" There's a frown on his forehead.

My face falls. I can feel it. Just like I can feel my feet turning into liquid.

It's my turn to sit down. Unfortunately the couch is too far, but now that I'm thinking about it, the carpet is really nice and soft.

My sudden collapse is quite clearly unnerving my Master. He's gotten up



and is now walking towards me. At least that's what I think he's doing, for I can't see very well. It's also a bit hard for me to breathe right now.

"Obi-Wan? Are you all right?"

I can feel soft tendrils of the Force all around me, soothing me. His mind is reaching out to mine, trying to find out what's wrong. The only way I can answer him is to open myself to him and let him know just what exactly did I mean with my words.

It's so quiet, I can hear the footsteps sounding on the floor above us. I don't have the strength to break the silence. If he doesn't say anything, we'll be locked into this moment forever.

Then a hand grabs my shoulder, holding me in a firm grasp. "Obi-Wan?" His voice is full of wonder.

"Yes." No matter how I try, it doesn't come out as a confident whisper. A strangled sob would describe that sound much better. We're finally on the same page here. It's not Padawan Kenobi telling his Master that he cares for him, respects him, loves him like an older brother. It's me, Obi-Wan Kenobi telling Qui-Gon Jinn that I love him.

"You mean it?" He doesn't have to elaborate. We both know everything that question means.

"I do." The touch of his hand is almost too much to bear, and I nuzzle my cheek against it. There's a soft rustle of his robe as he kneels in front of me, bringing his face closer to mine.

When he speaks, his tone is perfectly calm. "And I love you, Obi-Wan. I have for a long time now."

I just nod, feeling overwhelmed by his emotions, that are now in the open, too. Same as mine: Love, desire, respect. The need to be more than we are now. It's all so powerful, I have a hard time believing that I never sensed any of this. "I never knew you felt like that." Seeing that he has a questioning look on his face, I add, "The same as I do."

"We must have felt something from each other, but just brushed it off as wistful thinking, or some kind of a feedback loop."

His calm words almost make me laugh. This situation is really absurd. Everything's changed now, but still it's like it's quite normal for us to sit in the middle of the floor in Qui-Gon's bedroom, and talk about love. The love we share for one another.

We're just talking. We haven't even kissed once. I'm not objecting, though. To feel his love surround me is just as intoxicating as any kiss could be. His hand is on my shoulder, and he's so close to me that I can almost feel his breath on my face, but still I don't make any move to bring our lips together.

"Whatever the cause, I'm impressed by the strength of your mental shields, Padawan." Qui-Gon moves his hand a little, and his thumb brushes my cheek. At first I think his soft touch is accidental, but when it is repeated, I realize that it really is a deliberate caress. "But I am very happy that the shields are down now, Obi-Wan."

I move my hand to take his into a firm hold. If he continues to touch my face, or says something like that again, I'm going to melt into a puddle. "What happens next?" Maybe he has some suggestions, reasonable suggestions.

The only thing my mind can come up with is shocked gawking, and I don't think we could do it for a long period of time.

"Form a life-bond with me."

All right, so maybe that shocked gawking is perfectly appropriate for this moment. "A life-bond?"

"A life-bond." He confirms. "There's nothing in the galaxy I'd rather have than for you to share my life as a mate, not just as a Padawan."

The quiet words make my eyes brim. "Yes." To make it perfectly clear, I repeat it a few times, tightening my grip on his hand. "Yes, Qui-Gon. There's nothing I want more than to spend the rest of my life with you."

He smiles. Not that controlled, almost too well practiced little smile, but one that shows me how pleased he is by my words. The whole room is filled with pure happiness. His and mine. "That's what I want, too." The strong hand squeezes mine once more and then he lets go of me, rising to his feet.

My mind is in turmoil, trying to process everything a life-bond between us means. Not just sex, not just a romantic relationship. He's asking me to make a lifetime commitment, and I guess I wouldn't settle for anything less, either. After sharing my life with him for almost seven years, traveling through space, meeting more people than most people do in their whole life, I know that my place is by his side.

Then I realize that a formal bonding takes this whole thing outside of our private lives. "Will the Council approve this?" Since it has only been a fantasy before, I haven't really thought about it.

Following him with my gaze, I almost laugh out loud when I see the determined look on his face. The last of my fear disappears when he nods. "They have to. I can't even think about living without you. They may be a little surprised about it, but if we can prove that it won't disrupt your studies, I don't think anyone would have any objections to our union."

"Good." My voice is rough. "I belong with you, and they'll just have to accept it."

Qui-Gon's eyes crinkle at the corners, showing me that he's amused, even though his voice is stern. He sounds like he's lecturing about something. "Padawan. Do you doubt the wisdom of the Council?" Seeing me shake my head vigorously, he continues with the same tone of voice. "Come. We have a lot to do before the day is over."

I should have known it. As hot as my fantasies were, I wouldn't change the reality for any of them. So we do it the Jedi way. I guess next we'll talk some more and then ask the Jedi Council to approve our bond. Then we'll meditate on it and decide when it will be a good thing for us to start our physical relationship.

I'm not all that enthusiastic about waiting, but if Qui-Gon wants to do it this way, I can live with that.

Once again my Master surprises me. He reaches out with his hand to help me up, but once I'm on my feet, he doesn't release his grasp. Far from it, actually. I find myself in his arms, and before I have the chance to do anything, my head is tilted back, and then his lips are on mine.

It's a soft touch, nothing intimidating. A tentative kiss that's inviting me to respond, not forcing me to do it. There's no question about my wanting to answer it. I open my mouth slightly and then dart my tongue to taste his lips. I feel his astonishment, even as he answers my move by holding me tighter.

We part for air, and then I claim his mouth again, bruising both of us by meeting his parted lips with my teeth. I mumble my apologies, and then try again.

Tilting my head to the right, I raise my hand to the back of his head. I feel him copy the movement, and grin against his mouth as I realize that I have a definite advantage here. Now all my fingers are laced through his hair as I guide his head into a little better position and then suck his tongue into my mouth.

Qui-Gon tenses for a fraction of a second, and then he starts to explore both my mouth and my body. His strong hands roam all over my back, and then slide even lower. I almost bite his tongue, as I feel his fingers dance over my butt, and then take a good hold on me, bringing our groins into a close contact.

This is...good! Oh, just like... Yes! I'm rubbing myself against him, glad of his assisting grip. It's far easier to do this with him lifting me. I want to feel his skin against mine, but I'd have to let go of him in order to tear his clothes off. Damn, this was so much easier in the realm of fantasy. Not as pleasurable, though.

I wrap my legs around his hips, feeling him tighten his grip on me. Feeling a little faint, I remove my mouth from his, and after a moment of panting, I lower my head, and lick his neck. The slightly salty taste of his sweat makes me groan. This is real. To be absolutely certain, I bite the soft skin slightly, and then kiss it as I hear a sharp intake of breath.

When it becomes clear that if something's not done right now, we'll soon be a heap of tangled limbs on the floor, I slowly move away from our embrace. That hard floor. It might be a exciting little detail in fantasies, but in reality, I think I'd rather lay on something much softer.

I slide down to my feet, reveling in the soft moan my moves cause in him. "Qui-Gon?"

He focuses his gaze to mine, the look in his eyes even more arousing than the one I'd seen on the Oekhidian shuttle. "Yes, Obi-wan?"

That husky voice combined with that smoldering look make me almost forget what I was going to say. The only thing that keeps me from tackling him is the fact that once I get him horizontal, I'm not going to let him get up for at least a couple of hours. I think he has similar thoughts. "Bed. Let's go to bed."

Qui-Gon takes a deep breath, and then moves his left hand to grab mine. His right hand starts to pull my tunic open as he guides me to his bed. "A very good idea."

Yes it is. I have no doubts about the wisdom of it. After all, I've spent lots of time thinking about this kind of situation. Well, not exactly this scenario, but I'm adaptable.

Extremely adaptable.

I should have known that the Council wouldn't make things easy for us.

We actually ended up spending two whole standard days in bed. Between various displays of affection, and testing the things I'd only fantasized about, we talked about all the aspects of the change in our relationship.

Qui-Gon was actually relieved to hear that I'd pined after him for years. I was a bit dismayed to hear him say that, but when he explained that it was a positive sign that I'd only started to act oddly during the last few weeks of our platonic relationship, I felt like the happiest man on Coruscant. If all that pent up desire didn't mess with my education, a healthy loving relationship with him probably wouldn't either.

The Council agreed to our request surprisingly easily, when we went to see them after hammering down all the details of our new bond. The slight grin on Master Yoda's face told us that he was perfectly aware of the nature of the 'urgent business' we had for the Council, but we explained it anyway.

None of the Council members looked surprised, actually quite the opposite. Yoda's question if we were going to continue as a Master and a Padawan seemed to be just a formality. After answering that, the ancient Master tapped the floor with his cane, and congratulated us.

No further ceremony was needed. I was so happy, I could burst from the intensity. Qui-Gon was glowing, and all the Council members sent us warm feelings through the Force.

It seemed that everyone was happy for us. It also seemed that everyone had known about our feelings before we did. I was so happy to finally be with Qui-Gon, I wasn't at all annoyed about it. After all, annoyance leads to anger, and we all know where that leads.

I must admit that I was a bit annoyed when we got the message from the Council this morning. There's some minor problem on a planet near the border of the Republic, and apparently the Council has decided that Qui-Gon and I are the only Jedi to handle the situation.

So much for a month of relaxation.

Shoving the last few objects into my traveling bag, I mutter a few chosen profanities to the empty room, and then sigh. Qui-Gon is in his own bedroom, packing his gear, and I feel a bit odd. In just a week, I've gotten used to living in his room, seeing that as my home, instead of this small chamber.

All my clothes are still here, though. Maybe I'll move them to his room when we get back here. Or maybe we'll get another set of rooms. With just one big bedroom.

That thought makes me feel better, and as my Master appears in the doorway, I haul the bag on my shoulder and follow him into the corridor.

As we walk towards the shuttle hangar, we pass by a few Padawans. At first I don't pay any attention to them, but then a faint echo of envy that makes the Force tremble makes me quirk up an eyebrow. I look at my Master to see a slight smile on his lips. "Master? What's so funny?"

"Didn't you read about our destination, Obi-Wan?" His voice is teasing. He knows quite well that I haven't had the time to do that.

"No."

Qui-Gon reaches out and grabs my hand, lacing his fingers with mine as we turn a corner. "Lisia is the most beautiful place in the galaxy. It's very popular for honeymooners all around the Republic."

I think I'm blushing. "Could that be the reason we're being sent there?"

He doesn't even try to look surprised at that. "I wouldn't presume to know the Council's reasoning, but I suspect it might have something to do with our new bond."

"Really?" That's a little astonishing. The Council's not only approving our bond, they're also doing this? I have a sudden flash of insight, and can almost see that happy look on Master Yoda's face in my mind.

"I think so. I mean, why else make us put up with the travel. Lisia isn't actually in this neighborhood of space. Three weeks in a shuttle can be very boring, if we don't come up with something to do to spend our time." There's laughter in his eyes, as he glances down at me.

There's no one else in the hallway, but even if there were, I would still stop and wrap my arms around him. He lowers his head and kisses me gently, and then nods at the door to the hangar. "Let's not keep our ride waiting."

I agree. We really should get going. I take a better hold of my bag and follow Qui-Gon to the shuttle, already thinking about the ways to spend that long trip. There's no way I'm going to waste this gift.

The End

February 2000

My job with the story is finished. Yours is just half way through. Feedback, please!