Opportunity Knocks

by Nimori (nimorii@yahoo.ca)

Archive: M_A; anyone else, just ask

Category: Q/O, humor/parody, angst, h/c

Rating: PG

Warnings: Silly fluff, plot devices, and boyscout!Obi and long-suffering!Qui ahead (hey, it's a parody)

Spoilers: none

Series: possibly a sequel

Summary - Opportunity knocks but nobody's home.

Feedback - Pretty please? On or off list.

Disclaimers: You the man, George. The only thing I'm getting for this is some cheap thrills and (hopefully) some feedback.

Notes: Inspired by the recent discussions on fanon. All things SW belong to Lucas, all mistakes belong to me, and all nekkid Jedi dreams belong to my betas, KatBear, Master Jenn, and The Rose. Thanks for all the help!

Obi-Wan felt his heart shatter along with the ledge. One moment his master was struggling gamely through thigh-deep snow, the next the path crumbled away in a fury of stone and snow, carrying Qui-Gon over the edge into an icy abyss.

The padawan stared in horror at the gaping hole in the trail. "Master! Noooooooooo!" Obi-Wan burst into tears and fell to his knees -- difficult since the snow was almost up to his crotch. Oh no, no, no. He can't be gone. I never got the chance to tell him how I feel. Oh Force, if only I had one more chance to--

"Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan started, and looked around for a Force ghost. "M-Master?"

"Little help?"

Obi-Wan leaned over the edge, and spotted his master wedged into a crevice about four feet down.

Oh.

Obi-Wan brushed away the tears -- they were starting to freeze anyway -- and crawled to the edge on his belly. Extending his arms, he caught Qui-Gon's mittened hands in his own, and pulled. Much grunting and heaving and gasping later, they lay sprawled in the snow-covered path, panting.

"Are you... all right... Master?"

"Yes... Padawan. I'm... fine."

Obi-Wan sat up and glared suspiciously. Qui-Gon met his gaze evenly. "I know that 'I'm a stoic Jedi master' tone," Obi-Wan said. "You are not fine. Take off your parka. I want to check for injuries."

"I can't take off my coat, Padawan. It's freezing." Obi-Wan's lower lip started to tremble. "Oh, all right." Qui-Gon unfastened his parka, and the padawan stripped off his mittens. For a long moment Obi-Wan's clever fingers probed around under Qui-Gon's clothes, and he noted each time his master flinched in pain.

"Um, Master... is that your lightsaber?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"What did you think it was?"

"Well, I wondered if you broke your leg and the bone was sticking out."

"Not that high, Padawan."

"Right."

After a few more minutes Obi-Wan was satisfied that none of the injuries were life-threatening. "Still, you are bruised and I don't think you should walk very far. The communicator and half our food were in your pack, and that's on the canyon floor by now. The trail is blocked, and it looks like there's a storm moving in."

"Well, there was that little cabin we passed a while back..."

"Perfect! Don't worry, Master. I'll get you to safety, even if I have to drag you all the way there!"

"That's what I'm afraid of..."

"Ow! Slow... down... Obi... Wan!"

"Just a little further!"

"You're... holding... my ankles... too tigh-- oof!"

"Whoops. Sorry about that. There's a little dip there."

"...mommy..."

Obi-Wan looked around the cabin, hands on his hips. It was dusty, but he could live with that. Chilly, but out of the elements. One bed... well, the snow was really coming down now, and they'd probably have to share body heat anyway.

"Looks like we'll be here until the storm ends, Master. I'll just get the bed ready, and then we'll take a look at your wounds."

"Wha? 'Kay..." Qui-Gon looked up from where he was slumped by the door. Obi-Wan took in his master's appearance and concluded he probably had a fever -- the glassy-eyed gaze certainly wasn't from the lump on the back of his head.

"You just wait right there, and I'll have this place straightened out in no time." Obi-Wan dug their robes out of the packs to use as blankets and arranged them to his satisfaction, then collected his master and led the limping man to the bed. "Let's get you out of all these clothes."

The padawan swiftly stripped his master down, slapping Qui-Gon's hands when he tried to retain his underwear. Obi-Wan proceeded to inspect the tall, muscular body from head to toe, poking and prodding, eliciting yelps and gasps as his cold fingers left no corner unprobed.

"Hmm, you've fractured your ribs.... bruised your right hip and thigh... sprained a wrist... That's a pretty nasty lump on your head. You must have banged it when you fell."

"Actually--"

"You banged it when you fell. Don't worry. I'll patch you up." Obi-Wan hummed softly to himself as he bound Qui-Gon's ribs and wrist, and applied Ewok-shaped bacta patches to the myriad of tiny cuts. "There! All better. I don't know what to do about those bruises though... unless you'd like a massage?"

Qui-Gon cracked a wary eye open. "That's not necessary, Padawan..."

"Nonsense! It's a padawan's duty to care for his master." Obi-Wan dug around in the med pack, and came up with a bottle of oil. "Aha! Now, you just relax, Master, and let me take care of you." Without another word Obi-Wan plunked himself down on Qui-Gon, straddling his hips, and poured half the bottle on the master's back.

"Aahg!"

"Oh, Master, that must be cold. I'm so sorry. Here let me warm it up." Obi-Wan began rubbing briskly. "Better?"

"Um, yes?"

Obi-Wan massaged the oil in, going over Qui-Gon's entire body several times, even those places Qui-Gon was certain were not bruised.

"There! Now you need to get some sleep. Don't worry, I'll keep you warm." Obi-Wan stripped naked -- the better to share his body heat -- and climbed under the robes with his master. After a moment he became aware of something jabbing him in the stomach. "Um, Master? I know that's not your lightsaber, 'cause I left it with the packs."

Qui-Gon grunted, then sniffed himself suspiciously. "Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, Master?"

"What was that oil you used?"

"Palod oil. Why?"

"Obi-Wan! Palod oil is an aphrodisiac to my sub-species!"

"Oh my gosh, Master, I am so sorry! We have to get it off you. Oh, Force, we can barely melt enough snow for drinking. We can't spare any for washing. Hmm, palod doesn't affect my species, so maybe I could lick it off?"

"Um, no, Padawan. Thank you for the offer though. I think I have enough energy to metabolize it." Qui-Gon closed his eyes and slipped into a light trance. Obi-Wan waited hopefully for a while, until it became clear his master had fallen asleep. He sighed, and gently tucked the robe around the older man's neck.

Qui-Gon woke with another lightsaber, and this time it wasn't his. "Obi-Wan. Wake up."

The padawan opened his luminous blue-green-grey eyes and smiled sleepily. "Morning, Master."

"Good morning, Padawan. Padawan? Is that some sort of new massage technique?"

Obi-Wan looked confused for a moment, then realized he was thrusting rhythmically against Qui-Gon's leg. "Oh, sorry, Master. No, it's not. It's a morning erection."

"Uh-huh."

"It's perfectly natural."

"Yes, Padawan."

"Everyone gets them... well, except women, of course. And Fricians because they don't have--"

"Is it still snowing, Padawan?"

"I'll check, Master." Obi-Wan disappeared for a moment. "Yes, Master. It looks we're stuck here for a few days. I wonder what we could do to pass the time?"

They looked at each other.

"I am so, so sorry! Please, Master, you have to forgive me!" Icy silence met this as Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon up the ramp to their ship. "I completely forgot I had the spare communicator. What, do you think I wanted to be stuck sharing a bed in a tiny snow-bound cabin with my mildly injured but still functional master and a med-kit full of aphrodisiacs for five days?"

"No, Padawan, it's just... it's just..." Qui-Gon gave him a long-suffering look, threw up his hands, and stalked into the ship.

Obi-Wan pouted for a moment, then followed, muttering to himself. "I'm gonna kill Bant. She swore the palod oil would work..."

* Finis *