Master Apprentice
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Mace picked up his coffee cup and blew into it to cool the scalding liquid, too a very quick sip off the very surface and put the cup back down. He kept the warmed ceramic cradled loosely in his hands, thawing them slightly after the frigid ride into town.
Although he couldn't see how someone of Jinn's size and demeanour would not stand out like a sore thumb in such a small and polished community, he had seen that man seemingly disappear under more difficult circumstances and so could not entirely rule it out. Not much more difficult, though, but as implausible as it was that Jinn would be able to successfully hide here for such an extended period of time, in this town that seemed to pride itself on its quaint charm, this was one of the only towns in the area and so he was not faced with a lot of options.
He had been here the night before with no luck and knew he could not return too often without alerting the suspicions of the locals. The cosy pub was a bit more upscale than the places he was used to. Against the one wall was the rich, mahogany bar with its polished brass rails along the upper and lower edges, for the patrons' elbows and feet. Up until he saw that he had never fully understood Jinn's saying of "shining the rails with our coat sleeves" when they went on an incredibly rare weekend binge.
Backlit stained glass ran the length of the three sides of the bar and was framed in the same mahogany with the word Kelly's in relief in red against a gold and green background.
Mace sat in one of the four two-person booths that lined one wall, a wooden divider between each of them to give the occupants the illusion of privacy. He surveyed the other patrons to see if he could glean anything from them. Two middle-aged men sat at the table where the "L"-shaped bench seat lined the windows, arguing over sports team predictions and horse races. A very old man sat at the bar sipping whiskey and talking to the young, gregarious bartender about trivial things.
Mace looked at the time and realised, with no small amount of regret, that this would probably be it for the night's customers; when the door to the pub was pushed open ushering in a torrent of icy wind and a tallish, burly man. He had short, dark hair and looked to be in a foul mood.
"Hiya, Andy. Alright?" the bartender called over to him.
"Been better," Andy called back, puffing into his hands and stomping the feeling back into his legs.
"Can I get ya a cure for what ails ya?" the young man said, laughing and shaking his head as if he were doing nothing more than running lines from a well rehearsed routine.
Andy sat at the bar next to the old man, took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. "Not having to deal with the same thing day in and day out would cure me," he muttered as he expelled the inhaled smoke.
"I know what you mean," the bartender quipped as he placed a mug of beer down on a cardboard coaster in front of the man. "That reminds me, you lot. No showing up tomorrow. It's Christmas Day and, as always, we're closed." There was a general round of good-natured laughing and Mace got the feeling that it was a long-standing inside joke.
"I am sorry, Jonathan, but you don't know the half of it," Andy continued when the laughing had died down and he had taken a long pull from the mug. "At least in here as people get drunk, there is a certain level of uncertainty maintained. I could set a watch by the habits of the pharmacy customers. Like, when Mrs Flynn will call about the painkillers for her bursitis and Mr Krakoff calling, yet again, to find out if he can just take all his pills at breakfast so he doesn't have to remember to over the day. Even though they are clearly marked that they should not be taken together and one is on an empty stomach while the rest are after meals."
"Meh... they are just old and lonely and need someone to talk to," said the old man next to him, dismissively.
"Well, I wouldn't doubt Betty Flynn does. I mean all she has at home is that cat of hers and she works with that Ben Kenobi and while I could be wrong, the cat seems like more of a conversationalist out of the two of them," this remark from the bartender was met with laughter from the gathered patrons.
"Well, that's true but it does remind me that something out of the ordinary did happen a couple of days ago concerning Ben. He came into the pharmacy to get some things..." Andy said in a conspiratorial tone.
"What's so odd about that?" asked one of the middle-aged men by the window. "I mean, he does seem a bit on the fastidious side, but I don't think he's had himself plastic-coated yet."
"Not the fact he came into the store, you idiot, what he bought was the odd part," shot back the pharmacist. "He picked up condoms and sexual lubricant..."
An unnatural hush fell over the rest of the patrons. "Noooo," the bartender finally said and let out a low whistle.
"Who knew he had a use for them!" said one of the middle-aged men.
"Who knows with him?" said the bartender. "He's such an odd one, he could have also found some sort of odd tip in a book about how you can store stuff in `em if ya don't want it getting wet."
"What kinda stuff?" asked the other middle aged man.
"I dunno... stuff... Hell, I didn't write the book, did I?" the young barman said irritably.
Andy, clearly annoyed that his audience was getting away on him, cleared his throat and said, "I swear, it's the God's Honest Truth." He paid no attention that no one had disputed the validity of his claim. "I dunno, maybe he has a girlfriend, or something."
"He didn't mention anyone past a gentleman who is staying with him, while he was in my store the other day," the old shopkeeper, Mr Smits, offered up. "Yup, he said he had a guest staying with him for a while, who must have arrived suddenly and is staying longer than expected seeing as Ben was in buying clothing for him. Was definitely a man and a large one at that, judging by the clothing young Ben picked out."
Mace's ear pricked up a bit as he concentrated more on the conversation the locals were having. "I think this might be it," he thought.
"Come to think of it, my wife was talking to Betty Flynn a while back and was told that a large man came into the library asking after Ben. Apparently Ben told Betty it was a dentist friend of his passing through on his way to some convention or something. Only, according to Betty, this was like no dentist she'd ever seen," said the first middle-aged man, the earlier topic of conversation being totally abandoned.
"Do tell!"
"Well, she said he was large and had on a leather jacket. Long hair and was wearing a bandanna like in one of them gangs. But Betty trusts Ben and said that no matter what the appearance of this man was, if Ben said he was a dentist, then he was a dentist."
Andy's brow furrowed in obvious displeasure. "There is something here not adding up. A stranger comes to town looking for Ben, who Ben claims is a dentist but he looks like a gang member. Then Ben has, what we can only assume is this same man staying with him, because what are the odds of Ben knowing two large men?" The rest of the patrons nodded in agreement at this statement. "Then he goes about buying things like clothing and birth control? I don't get it. Perhaps this other man has a sister?"
A light went on behind the young bartender's eyes, "Unless, the answer is so painfully obvious that we're all missing it. I mean what if there is no woman in the picture at all. I mean what do any of us know about him. Do you suppose he's..."
"Wouldn't surprise me if he was," cut in Andy. "He's always been an odd fellow to begin with, I would definitely say he could be one of that kind."
"Wow... And you think you have someone pegged... I woulda never guessed it. The whole thing just seems to be far too... well ... y'know when they... I mean he just doesn't seem the type to go in for that sort of thing!" said the second middle-aged man.
"Well, he's always been peculiar and that's no lie and he does seem to fit the profile," Andy said. "I tell you, it makes you think twice about him now..."
"Why?" asked old Mr Smits. "Our Ben has never been anything but courteous and a generally sweet soul to anyone who ever bothered to let him get to know them. You're all talking about him as if he'd fallen with some illness and all over something he has never had the chance to deny or confirm. But I tell you one thing, if that young man has found someone who makes him happy then I am glad. It's about time he stopped wandering around like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. He always seemed like a frightfully sad young man to me and I would be pleased if he found someone. Man or woman..." He plunked his whiskey glass down forcefully at the end of the statement as if to punctuate his point.
The patrons all still descended into a conversation of wild speculation and no one notice Mace get up and leave the pub, grinning from ear to ear. "Gotcha."
Ben sat at the kitchen counter worrying his thumb nail and pretending to do a cross word while waiting for Quentin to get up. His morning coffee was sending up aromatic curls of steam as it sat untouched next to him and the sounds of playful barking filtered into the room through the patio door that led out to the back yard, where Tavi and Nanuk alternated between tackling each other into snowdrifts and running up to the glass to see if Ben was paying attention.
Even since Quentin had told him everything behind how he had really ended up in the park that one night and then later on at his door in the wee hours of the morning, Ben had started fretting. He became anxious every time a shadow passed in front of one of the windows and he jumped every time he thought he heard what he thought could be the sound of a twig snapping underfoot in the yard. It wasn't for himself, though, because he felt a little safer since Quentin had been true to his word and shown Ben a couple of self defence manoeuvres that would at the very least ensure Ben could get away long enough to seek help. He worried about what they would do to Quentin if they ever caught up with him.
He would think about what happened to Xanatos when he tried to leave and icy tendrils of panic would crawl up his spine. That small dark voice was still there murmuring in his head all the time and filling his mind with doubt and telling him that Quentin would die and he would be powerless to stop it. This is what plagued him the most. Now that he knew what it was like to not only love someone, but also be loved by them, he was not sure how he would live if anything happened to Quentin, or if he would even want to.
Ben was so lost in thought that he did not hear the door open and close or the footsteps come up behind him, but he did feel the arm seize him by the throat from behind. With lightening-quick reflexes he thrust an elbow straight back and stopped just short of actually making contact with the body behind him.
"Soon, it will be my own fault if I get the stuffing knocked out of me when I decide to sneak up on you," the low voice rumbled in his ear.
Ben smiled slightly and turned his head so he could meet his lover's lips in a good morning kiss. "Don't worry, I will always be able to tell when it's you," Ben said as he pressed his forehead to Quentin's. "You are the only one who would dare sneak up on me in the morning in my own kitchen, coming from inside the house."
Quentin laughed, kissed Ben again and said, "Well, perhaps one day I will have the pleasure of just waking up with you in my arms." He encircled his arms around Ben's trim waist and pulled the lithe young body against his own.
Ben laughed and said, "Well, if you didn't sleep so late you could."
He yelped as Quentin swatted him on the rear and walked into the kitchen, laughing to himself. Ben admired the way the new pyjamas he bought fit the large man, even if he did insist on only wearing the bottoms. This was fine by Ben; he was just enjoying the view of the muscled back with the eerily familiar tattoo. He was not sure where he'd seen the tattoo of the angel and the fallen prince, but he got the uneasy feeling it was in one of his dreams.
Quentin poured a cup of coffee then went and let the dogs in. They rushed through the back door with great flailing puppy-like enthusiasm that almost knocked him down. They yipped and howled their morning greeting to him as they sniffed his crotch to make sure he was still their tall friend and not some horrible impostor posing as their friend.
When he got back to the kitchen, Ben had vacated his spot at the counter and was busily starting to make breakfast. He smiled fondly at the young man, clad only in a tartan robe, but when he moved close to the counter and noticed the untouched coffee and crossword his smile faded into a slight frown. "You know, I would not seem like such a sleepyhead to you if you did not get up at the crack of dawn to have a good fret all alone," he said softly.
"What makes you think I get up to fret?" Ben tried to ask causally, but a look of guilt he could not entirely hide crept across his face.
"Because the last couple of days when I get up you have been sitting at that exact same spot at the counter with a coffee and a crossword in front of you. And every time I look, the coffee has not even had a sip out of it and you have not filled in one single word on the crossword and I would not think it's really that much of a challenge for you," Quentin replied, the last part fading from gentle chastisement to teasing.
"I can't help it," Ben admitted, shaking his head ruefully. "I keep going over what you said that day... and if you should ever... I mean, if anything should... happen to you... It will be my fault."
"I already told you that I am sorry for what I said then. If anything happened to me, it would not be your fault," Quentin walked over to Ben, grabbed him by both arms and made the young man turn and meet his eyes. "I would not have been able to hide forever. I would never have been able to remain cooped up for the rest of my days, no matter how wonderful the company. Eventually I would have wanted and needed outside." He hugged Ben to him and felt him relax against his chest. He heaved a small sigh of relief. It still pained him to know how much those words, spoken in a moment of panic, had scared his young lover. "I love you, Ben Kenobi, and I am sorry for everything I have ever said that hurt you."
"Love you, too," Ben replied, his voice muffled against Quentin's chest.
Quentin moved him back slightly and used the pads of his thumbs to brush the tears from Ben's eyes. "There, now, lad. You spend too much time worrying about tomorrows and yesterdays, try and focus on what you have today and you will find life will seem much less of a burden to you," he said gingerly. Ben looked at him and nodded mutely. "Besides, I would figure that after all the ways I have tried wearing you out these nights, you would be getting better sleep. I feel I should be slightly insulted." Both of them laughed out loud at this comment.
It was true that every night Quentin would make love to Ben, who, for his part, was a quick study and was now becoming quite a skillful lover himself. He was talented with his hands and mouth and able to bring Quentin to crashing completion every time with his mixture of coy modesty and wanton sensuality. The only area still undiscovered for them was actual penetration; but past Ben, in a bold move for him, procuring what was needed, he had never brought the issue up again and Quentin was not about to push him.
"It is in no way a comment on your skills, trust me," Ben laughed. "I go to sleep thoroughly exhausted and sated." He wrapped his arms fully around the older man and pulled their bodies close.
"Mmmmmmm," Quentin murmured as he pressed Ben back against the stove and plundered his warm mouth. "What time is your shift today? I was thinking if we had time, we could go back to bed?" he panted, breaking the kiss.
"You just got OUT of bed," Ben teased. "And I don't work today."
"You don't?" Quentin was pleased and surprised by the news.
"Well, I should think not, it's Christmas Day."
"It is?" Quentin's pleased surprise turned into shock. "I have been paying so little attention to the dates... How could I have forgotten?" He shook his head sadly.
"I have never paid much attention to it, myself," Ben replied with a shrug. "I suppose I never saw a reason to celebrate before and fell out of the habit."
"You don't understand... What time is it? Is it too late to make it?" Quentin asked half to himself and sounding distraught.
"Too late for what? Make it where?" Ben asked, sounding genuinely puzzled at Quentin's distress.
"To Mass. I can't believe I missed last night. Oh well, better late than never. If we hurry we can make it."
They hurriedly changed into appropriate clothing, Quentin being happy for the first time that Ben had had the forethought to buy him the dressy trousers and shirts, neatened themselves up as best they could and left the house, with Ben leading the way to a small chapel not far away.
As Quentin relaxed into a pew near the back of the nave he was glad that the service had not yet started. He berated himself again, internally, for not keeping better track of the time. What would Father Hanlon have said if he had missed today? He had promised himself long ago that in order to honour the man who had raised him after his own parents had died; he would always attend Mass on the important holidays such as Christmas and Easter. As he watched the service, as familiar to him as breathing, he fell into the reverie that he was back in the small church he had called home. He could almost see himself as the young alter boy, eagerly helping the Father prepare the sacraments and swinging the censor for the processional. Quentin closed his eyes and prayed for the health of Father Hanlon, if he was alive and also if he had already passed on, he prayed that the priest would look on him kindly, understand why it was he had to leave and look out for Ben. Keep him safe no matter the cost.
On the way back to the house, Ben finally spoke, "I get the feeling I could know you for a hundred years and you would still find ways to surprise me!"
Quentin smiled and took Ben's hand in his own as they walked. Ben looked around as if the doors to the houses they passed would suddenly fly open and the people inside would hurl out hateful things at them. "What is it, Ben? Does this make you uncomfortable?" Quentin asked, squeezing his hand lightly.
"N-no, not exactly. But what if someone sees?" Ben asked hesitantly.
"So what if they do? I am not ashamed, are you?" Quentin asked softly.
"No," Ben said firmly, letting go of Quentin's hand and wrapping his arm around the taller man's waist. "Not anymore."
Quentin chuckled to himself as they strolled at an easy pace back to the house.
As soon as they got through the door, the dogs greeted them with their usual enthusiasm but Quentin could not break the slight melancholy he was feeling after thinking of Father Hanlon. Ben seemed to sense something was wrong and made him go sit in the dining room while he finished preparing the breakfast he had started earlier.
Quentin stroked absently behind Tavi's ear when she decided to join him and sat right on his foot, putting her large head in his lap. He watched Ben move quietly around the kitchen, preparing the meal and whistling softly and tunelessly to himself. He felt his heart might burst for the love he felt for the once unbearably shy man. When Ben set out the food and dishes on the table, he seized one of his hands and placed a kiss on the palm. "Happy Christmas," he said.
"Merry Christmas to you also," replied Ben and smiled at him. They ate in silence and at the end of the meal, after Quentin had cleaned up, Ben broke the silence. "It's such a nice day out, too nice to stay indoors. What say we get changed and go to the park to run the dogs?"
He smiled at the young man and said, "As you wish." He did find his mood had lightened considerably with the prospect of going outdoors again and all dark thoughts were obliterated from his mind entirely when Ben re-emerged from the bedroom wearing what looked to be a new pair of blue jeans.
He must have made an approving sound, because Ben's face suddenly brightened and he turned, allowing Quentin a full view of how they hugged his shapely rear. "You like?"
"Very much so," Quentin said, drinking in the sight of his young lover. "Are they new?"
"Yes," Ben admitted. "I bought them when I got everything else, I figured you'd get a charge out of seeing them on me."
"If you meant 'get incredibly aroused' by 'get a charge out of', then I would say they did the trick," Quentin said, letting his eyes sweep over Ben's body with predatory hunger.
"Think of it as a Christmas Gift," Ben said, catching the gaze and feeling an answering shudder.
Quentin crossed the room and pulled Ben to him, letting out a low growl. He covered the young man's mouth with his own and started to plunder its moist depths. He felt his arousal growl as he tried to devour the young man.
"Quentin? What about the park?" Ben gasped as his lover nipped and licked his way down his smooth throat. The jeans, which only moments before had fit perfectly, were beginning to feel uncomfortably tight.
"You're right, it would be unfair on the dogs to mention the park and then not go," Quentin said, banking his own arousal slightly and breaking the embrace. He left the room to get changed into his old jeans but still heard Ben's barely contained scream of frustration nonetheless.
They spent longer at the park than originally anticipated and they all returned to the house, wet and exhausted. After they had changed out of their wet things, Quentin set about building a fire in the pristine fireplace as Ben went to make hot chocolate and put together a light meal. The dogs snoozed on the floor as they sat, cuddled, on the chesterfield watching the flame dance.
"Thank you for giving me a Christmas I am actually happy to remember," Ben murmured as he kissed the bearded cheek.
Quentin caught the young man's face between his hands and held him still as he started to kiss him. He started to slowly and softly deepen the kiss, prising the willing mouth open with his tongue. Ben groaned and shifted against him, the forceful arousal from earlier that day being tempered into something warm and more tender.
Quentin broke the kiss and heard a startled gasp from Ben. He took his hand and led him toward the bedroom. He kissed, nipped and sucked at the tender flesh as he slowly let his arousal build, as piece by piece he removed their clothing.
Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention as he saw Tavi and Nanuk crawl up onto the bed and lay down. "Oh no, you two. Out, for now," he said grabbing them by their collars and shoving them out the door and closing it.
Ben laughed a little, but soon found himself groaning again as Quentin returned to his sensual ministrations. Soon he had the two of them divested of their clothing and had lowered Ben to his back on the bed.
Ben responded eagerly to the caresses of his lover and returned them with the same languid ardour. Quentin lay between his slender thighs slowly undulating his hips against the young man and rubbing their arousals together. He was sucking the side of Ben's throat, bringing the blood to just below the surface when he felt Ben start to push him away. He braced himself on his elbows and looked into his lover's face to ascertain the problem. Ben just motioned toward the drawer in the bedside table. "Please?"
"Are you sure?" Quentin asked searching his face for any sign of hesitation.
"Yesssss," Ben ground out through clenched teeth, then lifted his head up so he could lave one of the erect nipples in front of him. Quentin hissed as he fumbled, one handed, around the drawer a bit until he located what he was looking for. He repositioned Ben's legs, so that his lover's calves rested on his shoulders and flipped the cap off the lubricant.
"If at any point you want to stop, just say so," he said and Ben nodded. He coated his fingers with the slippery substance and reached down, running a finger over the young man's perineum until he found his entrance.
Slowly he inserted the finger to the first knuckle and he heard Ben gasp. He looked at his face for any sign of discomfort and found that he seemed to be in no distress. Slowly and carefully he worked it all the way in, then started to piston it slowly in and out of the tight orifice. He made sure to lightly massage Ben's prostate, hearing him groan in pleasure.
He removed the finger and coated two with the cool gel. "Ready?" he asked. Ben only nodded again then gasped in slight discomfort as two digits breached him. Quentin moved them in and out slowly, scissoring them while fisting the other man's arousal, until he felt the tight ring of muscle relax and loosen and saw the discomfort disappear from his lover's expression.
He tore open a condom and rolled it over his own heated length and applied more of the lubricating gel to it. As he eased himself into the still almost impossibly tight passage he saw Ben's face was dotted with pain. He was holding his breath and his hands had curled into fists clinging to the sheets. Quentin held still, kissed and whispered to the young man, "Breathe, love. You are doing so well... Want you so much... Love you so much..." His words had the desired effect and he felt Ben loosen around him.
He pumped into his lover with long, languid strokes and made sure to angle for his prostate. Soon Ben's erection, which had flagged, returned. Quentin felt him start to move with him and he resumed kissing the delectable mouth. Groans and gasps filled the room as the two men moved against each other and the pleasure built between them. When Ben tried to get his lover to pick up the pace, the older man chuckled and said, "Shhhhh, love, it's not a race."
But in the tight virginal passage, Quentin couldn't last much longer. Hearing Ben's soft, but impassioned cries and groans below him, he was soon thrusting harder and quicker into the willing body. He took his lover's weeping erection in hand and pumped it time to his strokes. Ben arched back, cried out and spent himself between their two sweating bodies. Quentin followed him over the edge, pouring his love into the lithe form.
Ben's eyes were wide and dazed looking as Quentin withdrew from him and removed the condom. He tucked the young man into his embrace and kissed him deeply. "Mine," he growled.
"Love you too," came the soft reply as Ben, grinning broadly, burrowed into his chest and fell asleep.
In a dark room not far from where the lovers slept, Mace Windu sat bound to a chair and bleeding.
"It's very simple," the black haired boy standing in the corner of the room said, in a calm voice. "We know you know where Quentin Jinn is, now tell us."
"I don't know," gurgled Mace as blood spilled from his mouth.
"Perhaps losing an eye will jog your memory for you. Maul!"
Maul stepped forward the cold gleam in his eye matching the flash of the blade he held.
"No! No... okay... I think he's in a town not far from here... the locals seem to think he's staying with a man called Ben Kenobi, local librarian and bit of a loner...I think they might be lovers... but I could not verify the stories," Mace panted, fear filling him.
"Well?"
"No, that sounds about right to me... Had a feeling when I heard that name, Kenobi," Maul said in his low soft voice.
"Very well, we will have to go and pay this Kenobi a visit," said Keagan as he left the room and shut the door just before the blood curdling scream rent the air.