Master Apprentice
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Fandom crossovers: SW:TPM and Starsky & Hutch
Rating: R-ish
Categories: Q/O, Romance, Crossover, First Time?
Disclaimer: All characters belong to George Lucas and William Blinn. I make no claims to the characters beyond my own personal feelings for them. Money is no object for there is none in my wallet.
Archive: Yes
Feedback: Is a treasure.
Notes: Much thanks to Alex and Temve for their critical help. This was originally printed in the Con*Strict 08 conzine, now released by Sian.
The trip to Seta Seven was long; they were only halfway there. A profound lack of sleep over the previous ten-day had led Qui-Gon to allow himself to doze off, comfortable and warm and lulled by the hum of the ship’s engines. He half-dreamed of a sun-baked beach, rolling waves and the soft tones of his padawan singing, beckoning him closer to his glistening body…
“Incoming video message, Master.” Obi-Wan leaned across Qui-Gon for a far panel, his long braid trailing casually across Qui-Gon’s knee. Qui-Gon jerked awake at his padawan’s voice.
The casual and common contact, combined with the still-fresh images of the dream, brought him to immediate arousal, and he shifted back as unobtrusively as he could to hide it.
Obi-Wan nimbly fingered the comm-unit to more effectively tune in the odd red/green/blue signal, seemingly unaware of Qui-Gon’s sudden discomfort. Shields still holding, thank the Force, Qui-Gon thought.
He analyzed the readout with a frown. “Not a usual signal, Padawan. I’ve not seen anything quite like that before, have you? Can you identify the source?”
“It appears to be coming out of…nowhere. Wait – there’s a wormhole located some distance away, very small, but it appears the signal has been sent from the other end of it.” He bent his head to his task, leaving Qui-Gon to gaze thoughtfully at the back of his slender neck. Slowly, an image began to resolve itself on the screen before them.
“Is there audio, Padawan?” Qui-Gon asked, accidentally brushing his hand across his erection, annoyed by its persistence. Sleep would not be easily won now, and he resolved to seek someone’s companion services when they arrived, for it didn’t help that Obi-Wan looked good, smelled good, and felt good in his innocent touching. Qui-Gon adjusted himself carefully and, he hoped, inconspicuously.
“Yes, I think I have something here. Wait…there’s…music…rather loud. Here’s a picture…”
An indistinct image bloomed on the navscreen, building from stretching, wavering lines that slowly drew themselves into cohesion under Obi-Wan’s talented fingers. Qui-Gon thanked the Force for his concealing robe.
He turned his attention back to the broadcast, where a squarish picture finally resolved. Text flashed upon the screen, looking somewhat like Basic. The pictures behind the text showed some sort of vehicle traveling along the ground, weaving in and out of other vehicles, but they were drab in comparison to this one, colored a brilliant red with a bold white stripe dashing down the side. Obi-Wan whistled.
“Looks like a rather nice machine. Fast and sleek.” Qui-Gon could hear the admiring tone in his young padawan’s voice, typical of his agemates. They were all about the speed and agility of their ships and speeders, as he well remembered from his own younger days.
“Looks like an overgrown fruit to me,” he said.
The two humans on screen were dressed in long pants and bulky tops, with short cloak-type garments over them. They carried what appeared to be small blasters, and wore them under jackets, hidden away. The taller had blond hair and blue eyes, while his companion had dark, curly hair, darker blue eyes. Their relationship also seemed very close, based on the open affection they displayed for one another.
“What exactly is this holovid for, do you think?”
Obi-Wan cocked his head to one side. “I’m not sure – they seem Jedi-like. Peacekeepers. Maybe this is instructional? Or perhaps merely entertainment.” He hit the autotranslator to see if it could pick up the dialogue.
“Do you think one is the master and the other the apprentice?” Obi-Wan asked, fully focused on the action on the screen.
“No…they seem to be equals,” Qui-Gon replied.
“Star-in-sky – that’s his name,” Obi-Wan pointed, as the translator began belatedly to spew dialogue in a language they could identify. “Or wait, no – Star-skee.”
Qui-Gon’s eyes flew open wide when Starsky gave--
“That one’s Hutch,” Obi-Wan helpfully supplied.
--Hutch one of the most loving looks Qui-Gon had ever seen a man give another man.
“Starsky and Hutch.” Qui-Gon tried the names out.
They watched silently as the story of a life-threatening viral plague unfolded, but Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan becoming more and more drawn to the emotional bond portrayed onscreen, and he wondered—why didn’t they touch like Starsky and Hutch did?
They had known each other for so many years—training and growing and learning together. Qui-Gon’s pride for his padawan had no bounds; had he told Obi-Wan that lately, or had he been too busy shielding his attraction?
And now that he had grown to a full adult, with just a short time left before he became a Knight and would likely be sent off into the galaxy and far from his old master, perhaps Obi-Wan would be willing to hear Qui-Gon profess more than mere affection?
The bond between them quavered, and Obi-Wan asked softly, “They seem to be holding their feelings back, as if they are trying to hide their love for each other. Why do you think that is, Master? Others hug and kiss—oh,” he said suddenly, “it’s that they are two men, isn’t it? Is this why they hide it?”
Slightly shaken by Obi-Wan’s sharp insight into his master’s feelings and those of the characters on the screen, Qui-Gon took a deep breath before answering. “Perhaps this holovid is from a world where such blatant displays are forbidden,” he finally offered.
“Then that’s a sad world, Master. Why restrict love? Especially one this strong.”
Why restrict it, indeed, Qui-Gon thought, and a deep heat bloomed within him.
Agitated now, he returned his attention to the holovid, where Hutch appeared to have contracted the deadly virus. His loyal partner Starsky, at one point, put himself in harm’s way in order to secure the means to a cure.
“He would die for Hutch,” Qui-Gon said softly, and surprised himself by not drawing away when Obi-Wan reached for his hand.
“As I would for you.” Another rush up the bond left Qui-Gon feeling as if he balanced on a knife-edge of emotion.
“Obi-Wan, I—“
“Wait, Master. Let the story finish, first.” Obi-Wan gave him a tender, knowing smile, and squeezed his hand.
They shifted their bodies closer together as they watched the end of the broadcast. Obi-Wan cocked his head when the pretty medic and Hutch kissed while Starsky watched, amused.
“So it’s all right for a man and woman, but not a man and a man? And why did Starsky seem to not be bothered by that? I don’t understand, Master.”
“I don’t either, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon admitted. “But look, they both seem to be very happy now, being together.”
“Perhaps they’ve simply not yet admitted their feelings to each other?”
Qui-Gon found himself nodding. “Yes. I think that may be it.”
Obi-Wan turned the screen off when the image turned black. “Master, you had something you wished to speak of earlier?” His green eyes twinkled, and Qui-Gon could feel repressed joy thrumming from him.
“Perhaps I should meditate on the matter first, Padawan,” he answered slyly, not bothering to hide his own amusement at their shared realizations.
“May I join you, then?” Obi-Wan queried, standing and preparing to set the ship to auto-pilot.
“Please,” Qui-Gon offered, gesturing for him to move ahead, and as Obi-Wan passed he grasped the man’s arm in a short, gentle squeeze before retreating back within the confines of his robe.
The loving look he received told him everything he needed to know, and perhaps more.
Obi-Wan cocked his head in the direction of the cargo hold. “Let’s go, partner.”
Qui-Gon chuckled as they began to walk. “Which one am I—Starsky or Hutch?”
~end