Hospitals Are Not ALL Fun And Games

by Angel of Death

Title - Hospitals are not ALL fun and games
Author - Angel of Death (aka_baka_13631@sbcglobal.net)
Archive- yes
Category - Qui/Obi, Parody, Romance, POV, PWP
Rating- PG-13
Warnings - NONE
Summary - Title says it all
Feedback- I love feedback so please tell me if you like it or not

I hate the healers ward. It is plain, depressing, and full of sick and injured Jedi.

My Padawan has decided that this form of torture is sufficient and has dragged me to this horrendous place against my will. He insists that I'm sick and need the attention of a healer. I quite disagree.

Healer Bejin (one of the worst tempered healers in the temple) wanders into the examination room and instead of asking me why I'm there she turns to my traitorous Padawan and asks him.

"Master Jinn, has had the beginnings of Bothan flu since yesterday," my padawan informs the less than interested healer.

"I'm fine, padawan. You're over react-" I begin to say only to be stopped by a very persistent bout of coughing.

"I will determine that," Healer Bejin says pulling out some tools with which to begin the torture.

The healer takes her time examining me and to my horror confirms what my padawan had suspected. Even though I don't want to believe it, I have Bothan flu, wonderful, absolutely perfect.

"Have you been feeling sick, Padawan Kenobi?" the demon asks my padawan.

"No, I haven't."

She nods and her scales shift. I hate snake demons, they are the most cold hearted creatures ever invented. How this one became a healer I will never know.

"Very well. We'll have to keep Master Jinn here for a little while. I want to make sure this doesn't spread throughout the temple. Is that okay with you Padawan Kenobi?" the bitch asks the traitor.

"How long?" Obi-wan asks before I even get a chance to open my mouth and put in my two sense.

"A couple of weeks, maybe less if it clears up quickly."

"Is that okay with you, Master?" Obi-wan asks letting me speak with no chance for interruption.

"No," I try to say, but it comes out in a scratchy whisper.

"I'm sorry Master, but you don't seem to have choice in the matter," my padawan says leaning forward and lightly kisses my cheek, "I would love to stay and help you tie him down Healer Bejin, but I have a Gymnastics class to teach and the council would have my head if I don't do my job."

With that little speech Obi-wan wanders out of the Healers ward, quite pleased with himself, the prick!

"He's a nice young man. You are quite lucky, Master Jinn," Healer Bejin says as she leads me deeper in to the bowels of Coruscant's equivalent of hell.

There are 81,942 dots on the ceiling. After a little over a week in solitary confinement with nothing but an IV, food and Healer Bejin to keep my company, I have resorted to counting the dots on the ceiling six times.

I swear, when and if they let me out of here I'm going to give Obi-wan the sexual beating of his young life. Letting him drag me here was the last thi-

"Your shielding is absolutely horrible, Master," Obi-wan says placing himself in the chair next the bed I find myself occupying.

"Jerk..." I mutter as I continue to stare at the ceiling.

"It's not my fault you're sick, Master. You have no reason to be so angry with me."

"I know. I just hate it here."

"Don't worry, I think you might be getting out of here soon."

"Please let it be true. I don't like having to sleep alone."

"Really?"

"Yes, it's too damn cold at night and I have no Padawan to keep me warm."

"You're just saying that, Qui and you know it. Let's just hope that convinces Healer Bejin."

"It should."

"I hope so."

"Why is that?"

"Why," Obi-wan says slowly climbing up to straddle my lap,"Because it has been a very lonely week. And I plan on making up for lost time."

He leans forward and captures my lips with his. It isn't a soft or kind kiss, it's a hungry kiss, a warming of what I'm in store for when I get home.

Did I mention that Healer's have horrible timing.

"Ahem"

At the sound of Healer Bejin's voice, Obi-wan, reluctantly pulls himself off of my lap. My erection rather obvious through the thin bedsheets.

"I was coming to inform you that visiting hours are over, Padawan Kenobi, you have to leave."

"Yes, Healer Bejin," my padawan says leaving me behind with the Healer (devil incarnate).

"You know, Master Jinn. It isn't good to get you heartrate up when you're sick."

"Yes, well you are the Healer who has put me on medication and kept me here. By doing that you have revented both Obi-wan and myself from consummating our love for each other in just over a week."

"I'm sorry, Master Jinn. I'm just doing my job. If it interferes with you having time to screw your padawan, then it isn't really my fault."

"Very well put, Master Bejin. Though I do I wish I could leave to do just that."

"I can tell," she says eyes wandering to my softening erection.

"When do I get to leave?"

"Today; however, you must abstain from any strenuous activity."

"Define strenuous."

"Anything that will cause your heartrate to increase. It could cause the infection to reestablish and you'll end up here again. I know you don't want that."

"I promise," I say knowing perfectly well I do not plan on keeping that promise.

"Okay, I'll call your Padawan and he can take you home."

"Thank You, Healer Bejin."

"I would say anytime, Master Jinn. But that would be a lie."

It took me no more than a few moments to make it home. The moment we made it through the door my padawan was pinned to the door. After the kissing began it didn't take him long to get me out of my clothing. The only thing I had managed to remove from my padawan's lithe body was his tunic.

"Bedroom, NOW," I growl in his ear. He all too eagerly obeys.

We don't last long, after having been seperated for so long the only thing either of us could think about was achieving pleasure at any cost. After no more than a few glorious minutes, we both collapse and drift happily off to sleep.

Author's Note: After this Qui returned to the healer's ward to find a rather angry Healer Bejin.

The character Healer Bejin is based on Me.

And the story is based on this 911 call.

Dispatcher: 911, what's the address of your emergency?

Citizen: calling form the state mental hospital Yes, my doctor put me on medication and it has kept me from consummating my marriage for four weeks now.