Repairs

by Desdemona ( desdemona371@yahoo.com )

Archive: M_A only.

Category: Angst, First Time

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Q/O, O/Padme (briefly and not graphic)

Spoilers: TPM Warnings: Het sex alluded to; some het groping present.

Feedback: yes, on or offlist.

Disclaimer: Not mine. no money made. please don't sue me.

Note: Thanks to everyone who asked me to continue this. I probably would not have otherwise, and in the end I think it'll be a nice little fic. I am reposting part one since before it was just an afterthought in another post. For the purposes of this fic, Padme is 18. Because any planet that entrusts its highest office to a girl of 14 deserves to be crushed into tiny pieces and blasted into oblivion. 18 is bad enough, but don't want to change the dynamic overmuch. Plus, a 14 yr old girl and a 25 yr old guy...Eeeeeewwww.

Summary: When Padme makes eyes at Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon starts to see what he's been missing. And Ani doesn't like it one little bit. Set during TPM.

Obi-Wan Kenobi eyed the boy warily, while trying very hard to appear as if he were merely fixing the hyperdrive generator. An almost imperceptible twitch of his upper lip accompanied by a small sigh proved the only outward markers of what had become and increasingly troubled thought process. Something about the boy bothered the young Jedi. Bothered? No. Frightened was more precise.

He's just a kid! Obi-Wan chastised himself. A kid with a tint of Darkness that only I can see, evidently.

Obi-Wan had never been one to doubt himself, especially when it came to his Force abilities. But how could he feel this blatant veneer of evil around the boy, while Qui-Gon Jinn, superior to himself in most things Force-related, saw nothing but a frequently sweet, occasionally obnoxious ex-slave with inquisitive blue eyes and an engaging grin. In combination, Skywalker's traits seemed to have charmed everyone from Jar Jar right on down to Panaka, the Queen's solemn Security Chief.

Kenobi put down the hydro spanner he had been working with and absently reached for the extra sash he had been using as a rag. Running the cloth over his brow, leaving a smear of grease rather than the splotch it had previously been, the young Jedi turned to face the boy outright. He leaned his hip against the hull of the ship and smiled slightly at the youngster. I will give the boy a chance. Maybe this Darkness I sense is more of the mission, than of him.

"So, Anakin, what brings you down to the bowels of the Queen's transport? Not enough to keep you occupied topside?" Obi-Wan looked down at the rag, realized he had just moved the filth around on his face instead of eliminating it, and let out a rueful chuckle.

Anakin crept forward a few feet, hesitant to invade Kenobi's personal space. He had only exchanged a few words with the Jedi over the past few hours, but the boy's intuition was finely honed. He could tell that the ginger-haired Jedi had not yet decided his feelings towards Anakin. Skywalker had a feeling that winning this man over was very important. Although only 9 years old, his life as a slave had lent him an attitude of practicality that he kept well hidden. If making Kenobi like him would help him get off Tatooine and help him to become a Jedi, then Anakin knew what to do.

Turn on the charm and cajole this stern, forbidding young man into wanting to protect and shelter him, just as Qui-Gon Jinn wanted to do. Didn't have to force the issue with Qui-Gon, though thought Ani. Master Jinn liked me from the start. And I like him, too. This apprentice, though...

A brilliant smile lit the boy's face. "No, Master Kenobi, I just wanted to come watch you work on the hyper drive." A few tentative steps forward, and the boy was peering at the new drive, noting that whatever Kenobi may be, he was also a good mechanic.

Obi-Wan shook his head as he removed his sash from around his waist and began to rub the grime off his face with it. "No, Anakin, you mustn't call me 'Master.' I'm not even yet a Knight, let alone a Master. I'm merely an apprentice." A wistful smile. "Just call me Obi Wan, that will be fine. The only Master around here is Master Jinn."

Obi-Wan retied his sash around himself, seemingly oblivious to the grease streaks now adorning it. Picking up the hydro spanner and dropping it back in the tool compartment, the young Jedi began walking back towards the main compartment of the vessel. As he reached the maintenance lift, he turned to regard Anakin Skywalker. "I'm done here for now, Anakin. I very much need a break, and it's about time for second meal." His hand gracefully motioned toward the lift. "You coming?"

Anakin scrambled to join Obi-Wan, grinning at what he considered an invitation to join the man at a meal.

"Yes! Yes, I'm coming, Mas...er, Obi-Wan." He caught up to the man and looked up expectantly as the lift door opened. Usually this would be when Qui-Gon reached down to ruff his sandy mop of hair.

The apprentice merely nodded and stepped into the lift, holding the door for his young companion.

Once inside, Kenobi pushed the button for the main level, clasped his hands behind his back, and stared contentedly at the wall. He never noticed the fleeting look of intense annoyance that flickered across the boy's face.

Qui-Gon Jinn sat at the small table in the common room of the Nubian ship, wondering whether to expect Obi-Wan to join Anakin and him at second meal. After a few minutes wait, he began to wonder if even Anakin was going to show up.

Walking to the tiny kitchen area, the tall Jedi assembled a light meal of fruit, cheese, and bread, distributing the food among three plates. May as well plan for the best,he thought.

"Is one of those for me?" A light feminine voice intruded into his thoughts. Doing his best to hide his irritation, Qui-Gon turned and gave Padme a very small smile. "Actually, no, but my companions have not seen fit to arrive as of yet; you are most welcome to take one of these and dine with me." He gave a small bow and held a plate out to the girl.

Brown eyes sparkling, Padme tilted her head as if deciding whether to accept the proffered plate. Evidently the girl came down on the side of hunger, for she reached out and took the plate from him. Flashing the older man a sunny smile, the girl nodded and sat at the small table. Her hand waved to one of the other chairs.

Qui-Gon took the gesture to heart and sat down across from the brown haired girl. She took a small bite of cheese, then got up to fetch them each a glass of cold juice. Placing the glass in front of the Jedi Master, she began to speak.

"So I take it you were waiting for Anakin and your apprentice? I see you had three plates ready." Padme resumed her seat and sipped at the red juice.

Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes, I imagine Obi-Wan decided finishing his work is more important than eating at the moment." Jinn began his meal, a thoughtful look on his face. "Typical of him, really. In truth, my Padawan is worse about that kind of thing than I am."

"'That kind of thing?'" The girl asked, puzzled.

"Mmm." Qui-Gon drank deeply of the juice. "Working too much. Forgetting to do things like eat, sleep, inconsequential things like that." The Master smiled slightly, and for the first time Padme saw a glimmer of real affection cross his normally stern features.

Padme laughed, a sparkling sound that rang throughout the cabin and made her seem younger than her eighteen years. "Yes, he does seem rather intense." She cast her eyes down and fidgeted a bit. "Actually, I was looking for Obi-Wan. I don't know, I just..." She shrugged nonchalantly. "I had hoped to get to know him a bit, he seems very..." Padme looked around, searching for a word. "Intriguing." She smiled. "Yes, that's the word, 'intriguing.'"

Not to mention devastatingly handsome, and that voice...! Padme blushed slightly, picturing the attractive yet aloof Jedi.

Qui-Gon nodded as he finished his meal, trying to appear as if he had not noticed the girl's slightly flustered expression. By the gods, she's actually blushing. I can't believe the Queen of Naboo has a crush on my Obi-Wan.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both slightly uncomfortable, neither knowing what to say. Finally, Qui-Gon cleared his throat and gathered their empty plates.

"Well, I am sure Obi-Wan would be more than happy to chat with you, Your Highness. He is always eager to exchange ideas with a willing listener." He placed the plates under the sonics and replaced them in their cabinet. Turning around, he found Padme staring at him, her faced flushed beyond the slight blush of infatuation.

"How did you know?" She asked, puzzled and annoyed.

Qui-Gon leaned against the counter, confused. "Know...?"

She continued to stare at him. "You just called me 'Your Highness." How did you know? Is it some kind of Jedi mind reading thing?" More annoyed than puzzled now, bordering on angry.

Damn. Qui-Gon thought. I guess her interest in Obi-Wan impacted me more than I thought, to make a slip like that.

"No, no, nothing like that. I've been a negotiator for many decades, Padme. It's my job to see the nuances of behavior that sometimes betray where the real power lies." Two long strides and he was standing in front of her. He knelt, putting himself at eye level with the petite Queen. His best reassuring smile and most trust-inspiring tone of voice were put into play. "Don't worry, Your Highness. Your secret is safe with me, and it will not happen again."

She seemed reassured. A flicker of doubt, then she spoke her thoughts aloud. "Do you think Obi-Wan knows?" The prospect seemed to make her quite nervous.

Qui-Gon did not betray his annoyance at the girls seeming obsession with his Padawan. "I doubt it." He shrugged. "I will not tell him, and he has much less experience with governmental hierarchies than I. In addition, his strengths lie in other areas. I can almost assure you he doesn't know." She seemed to deflate, the nervousness flowing out of her.

Why does she care if Obi-Wan knows who she is? Surely she realizes that, as a Jedi, he would not betray the knowledge to anyone? No, she's a smart girl...Her worries must stem from personal issues.

For some reason, this line of thinking bothered Qui-Gon more than he thought possible. He shrugged it off and continued.

"And, if Obi-Wan does know, he would tell no one but myself, and since he has not..." He let his voice taper off, then stood up. Just as The Jedi Master reached his full height, the swish of the lift door sounded, and two sets of footsteps echoed through the ship, approaching the common area.

Qui-Gon glanced at Padme; Her effort to collect herself was visible and successful. By the time Anakin and Obi-Wan rounded the corner and came into view, Padme was cool and casual, her handmaiden pose firmly in place.

"No, Anakin, I truly do not think they are cute. They're dirty, stupid, and they smell."

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. It seemed his Padawan and Anakin had hit upon a difference of opinion.

"But..But they're CUTE. And if you washed one, it wouldn't smell!" Anakin's voice was triumphant; He assumed the argument was won.

The pair had reached the table, and Obi-Wan nodded a greeting to both his Master and the seated handmaiden. "I have no desire to wash an eopie, Anakin, and even if I did, it is the nature of the animal to resume its state of dirtiness as soon as it's able. A pointless exercise." Obi-Wan flashed his Master a look that said 'Please, for the love of all that is holy, get this kid away from me before I strangle him.' Qui-Gon regarded his apprentice coolly, then turned with a smile toward Anakin. "Come, Ani, I made a plate for you." Taking the previously prepared meal in one hand, Jinn held his other hand out to the boy. "Let's go eat in the cockpit and you can take a look at the controls."

"Yippee!" Anakin exclaimed, practically dragging the tall Jedi toward the front of the ship.

Obi-Wan sat in the chair Qui-Gon had so recently vacated, and the Master heard Padme offer to fetch some food and drink for his Padawan. By the time Anakin had pulled him through the door separating the two compartments, the girl had done as she had offered, and the two were engaged in a quiet conversation.

As the door swished closed behind him, Qui-Gon heard the relaxed laughter of his apprentice, and he suddenly had the urge to march back to the table and say something to Obi-Wan that would turn those ocean eyes on him with laughter and smiles.

But then the door closed, the beautiful sound was utterly cut off, and the moment had passed.

Qui-Gon tried to maintain a pleasant air about him for the boys' sake, but as he sat in the cockpit, listening to Anakin's incessant chatter, all Qui-Gon could think about was his Obi Wan and Padme, alone together in the other room, the attractive girl telling Obi-Wan how intriguing she found him...

And the thought turned his blood to ice.

Obi-Wan refused to look up from his work as the lift door swished open once more. In the most politely firm tone he could manage, the young Jedi made a pronouncement: "Anakin, I will never get this finished if you keep coming down here to watch. I've told you, I don't like..." The words trailed off as he did sneak a peek toward the door. Instead of a small precocious boy, his gaze fell on the large, broad form of his Master. His very large, very broad, very austere looking Master.

Scrambling to his feet, his usual grace not in attendance, Obi-Wan banged his head hard on the ship. "Damn," he softly swore as he struggled to his feet. Grease splotched his face once more, and his tunics were awry.

Master Jinn's eyes flicked to his Padawan's grime-splotched sash, then moved up to linger a long moment on the expanse of golden skin showing through Kenobi's tunic, which had loosened and gaped open unprofessionally.

Not willing to prompt his elder, Obi-Wan stood at ease, rubbing his face absently, smearing the dirt around a bit.

Finally, Qui-Gon began to speak. "Padawan, I would appreciate it if you would at least attempt to be nice to Anakin. Not just tolerate him, but be actively cordial to him. Do you think you can manage that?" This last was said with a bit of hostility that surprised even himself.

Obi-Wan checked a sigh and glanced around the room, not meeting his Master's eyes. "I will try, Master. I don't dislike the boy, it's just..." He floundered. "I just feel...something..." A slight shrug. "Off." evil, he wanted to say.

Qui-Gon took another step toward Obi-Wan and leaned casually against the curving wall of the ship. "He has been a slave most of his life. I sense some negativity in him as well, but given his history, that is only to be expected."

"But -" Kenobi began, only to be swiftly cut off.

"I do not wish to discuss this with you, Padawan." A stern voice, in full Master-Mode. "You will simply have to trust my judgement and long experience in this." Qui-Gon tried not to stare as Obi-Wan bit his bottom lip in consternation. What in the Sith Hells is wrong with me? The older Jedi accused himself. Why NOW, of all times, do I suddenly realize how beautifully tantalizing my Padawan is?

Jinn's manner changed not at all. Outwardly, he appeared his normal detached self. His only betrayal came from his eyes: The hungry look in those blue depths could not be denied. Thankfully, Obi-Wan was perturbed enough by his Master's manner as to not look directly at him. If he had, the young Jedi might have known what kind of look a nerf steak got from a starving man.

Sensing the impeding crack in his composure, Qui-Gon swiftly mumbled, "I must go check on something. Please continue the repairs." And quickly hustled off. Not wanting to wait for the lift, the big man took the stairs three at a time, in order to get away from Obi-Wan as quickly as possible.

Behind him, Kenobi shook his head and sighed, a look of annoyance settling in. He's treating me like a first year Padawan, and I've done nothing to deserve it, Obi-Wan thought to himself. Not wanting to drag himself down into wallowing, the Jedi put the incident firmly out of his mind and returned to testing the hyper drive.

Padme and Anakin watched intently as the two Jedi sparred. The boy tracked the men's movements with envy and anticipation. Qui-Gon is going to teach *ME* how to dance like that, the boy thought. And I will be better than any of them.

Padme's line of thinking went in a much different direction. Her eyes followed Obi-Wan as he spun and flipped. Stripped to the waist, his lithe body shone with sweat and almost seemed to radiate light, even above the radiance of Tatooine's suns. She licked her lips absently, and blushed furiously as she realized she had done so. But FORCE, how can I help it? I mean, by the gods, LOOK at him...

Padme had to admit her attraction had been purely physical until earlier that day. In truth, Obi-Wan had seemed arrogant, distant, preoccupied. Their talk during mid-meal had changed her perceptions. Now she knew these traits were merely a combination of natural reserve, introversion, and old fashioned shyness. The man was actually very funny and open once he allowed you to speak to him as a friend, instead of just another member of the masses the Jedi are sworn to protect.

Yes, their little talk had been quite illuminating. Now, Padme not only lusted after him, but felt the first spark of feeling for him that could prove, over time, to be special. She wanted to talk to him again, hear him laugh again, see the smile that was at once so open and so endearingly bashful.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan continued their sparring, oblivious to the eyes watching them. They were used to audiences; It was widely recognized that they were among the best sparring partners in the Order. Qui-Gon with his sheer size and brute strength, yet very fast and known for fighting in an almost intellectual fashion; he was water, slowly wearing an opponent down over time. Obi-Wan's style was predictably derivative of his Master's, but over the years the younger man had made it his own. Incredibly limber and fast, the ginger haired Jedi favored the aerials and leaps that someone of larger stature or build simply could not do. Not strong enough to beat an opponent into submission, Kenobi's attacks were of the hit-and-run variety. Get in, get out. He was wind, whooshing by at incredible speeds, yet gone in the blink of an eye.

Together, they were nothing short of beautiful.

The two watchers were not the only ones with a critical eye. Qui-Gon also found himself admiring his apprentice's moves, and not in the clinical way he was used to. Instead of noticing a fine parry or a well-executed flip, the Master was now noticing less academic, more intimate details.

Jinn remained fairly focused on the sparring, but could not help his perusal of Obi-Wan's form. The subtle curve of shoulder muscles as the younger man prepared to jump; the delicacy of Obi Wan's relatively small fingers flung out to Force-push his opponent back; The way that Kenobi tended to twirl his 'saber like a baton during the breaks in which the partners circled each other warily.

Qui-Gon had never noticed this particular habit, but suddenly realized that it existed. Obi-Wan could literally NOT stand still. The man thrummed with energy. If not for Qui-Gon’s admiration of the turn of his Padawan's wrist as he swirled his weapon in circles at his side, the Master may never have noticed this particular quirk. It pleased him immensely to think that he had knowledge of this habit, and likely no one else did. Something small, just for him.

The pair swung back into motion suddenly, Qui-Gon lunging, Obi-Wan spinning away at the last moment. Finally, sensing an opening, Jinn resorted to feigning left, then sliding back quickly to swipe Obi-Wan's legs out from under him. A particular weakness, his legs. They had worked on defense for this move, and although Obi-Wan was a quick study, more often than not, Qui-Gon was able to use a leg-swipe to bring him down.

Both men lie on the sand, panting. From the perimeter they heard the applause from the small crowd that had gathered. Both ignored it.

"That damned leg-swipe again." Obi-Wan breathed.

Qui-Gon chuckled low in his chest. He knew better than to jab at his apprentice unnecessarily. Obi-Wan knew it was a weakness, and was working on correcting it. No need to rub it in. "Yes." Was the Master’s only comment.

Obi-Wan sighed dejectedly.

Qui turned to gaze at his Padawan, lying on his back in the sand, one leg bent at the knee, the other straight, staring at the sky with his eyes squinting fiercely, the vertical line on his brow proof of how agitated he was at his failure. "Obi-Wan, you are improving, although you may not see it. We sparred for nearly an hour before you gave me that opening, and it was a very small opening, indeed. I know what to look for. Yes, it needs fixing, but I would by no means call it a huge flaw." He reached out, his large hand patting his apprentice on the shoulder. "Besides, no combat with an actual opponent would likely last an HOUR, now would it?" The side of his mouth quirked up in a wry smile.

Obi-Wan turned his face and grinned at his Master. "No, you're right. One of us would surely be dead long before an hour..." With that, Kenobi sat up and sprang to his feet, dusting sand off of his leggings and chest.

Qui-Gon merely stared, then saw an opportunity he could not pass up. Getting to his feet, he murmured, "Here, Obi-Wan, let me get the sand off your back."

Obligingly, Obi-Wan stood and allowed his Master to approach and dust the clinging particles off of his heated skin. Obi-Wan tried not to shiver at this intimate contact. He would allow Qui-Gon to touch him in any way his Master would ask to. Too bad Qui-Gon never asked. Why should he want to touch me, other than innocent assistance like this? Obi-Wan thought. I'm just a kid to him, never mind that I'm twenty-five years old and have been pining for the man since I was sixteen.

He stepped away, turning to smile at Qui-Gon. "Thank you, Master. I wouldn't want to leave sand trails on my way to shower the rest off. Which I think I will go do now?" The question in his voice was apparent.

Qui-Gon nodded, not letting his sadness at the loss of contact with that soft golden skin show. "Yes, go ahead, Padawan. Only please come back and let me know when you are finished. I'm sure I smell like a bantha in heat." Obi-Wan smiled, dazzling. "I'll just wait out here, maybe show Anakin a few rudimentary moves..."

The Master didn't miss the look of dismay that crossed Obi-Wan's face; he chose not to comment on it, however. "Yes, Master" Obi-Wan bowed and turned to re-enter the ship.

As Anakin ran to him and Qui-Gon began to explain the use of katas and meditations, the Master didn't miss the small form of Padme Amidala following his apprentice into the ship. Her look was decidedly predatory. No innocent young girl, was she. Not like his Padawan, not like his Obi-Wan, who paradoxically radiated sexuality almost as much as he did purity... And Qui found himself wishing he’d had the courage to be honest with his Padawan earlier as he had finally been with the stubborn fool he had discovered Qui-Gon Jinn to be: He wanted no one touching Obi-Wan but himself.

Padme waited patiently in the common room for Obi-Wan to return from his shower. Watching the Jedi spar had had quite an affect on her. She longed to touch Obi-Wan and feel the smoothness of the muscles that ran under his skin. She wanted to know just how soft that skin was. Padme had no idea if Jedi even indulged in physical pleasure. If they didn’t....What a tragedy that would be! What a waste! she thought. Although the Queen was beginning to respect Kenobi for his mind and personality as well, his physical beauty overrode his other attributes in this regard. His whole manner exuded sexuality, and the kicker was that the man didn’t even seem to know it. Which only makes him all the more attractive, Padme thought with a smile.

Lost in her contemplation of all things Obi-Wan, she failed to realize that the object of her ruminations had returned to the common room and was now standing at the counter, rubbing his shoulder. His face was a bit pinched.

“Obi-Wan? Are you ok?” She studied him, concerned.

He looked over to her and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just pulled a muscle in my shoulder when my Master knocked me onto my ass in the sand earlier.” He said this in all seriousness, which for some reason made it very amusing to Padme. She chuckled quietly.

“Speaking of...” He said as he flipped on his comm unit and pressed a button. “Master?”

The voice came, a bit tinny. “Yes, Obi-Wan?”

“Just wanted to let you know the ‘fresher is free, Master.” He grinned at Padme and rolled his eyes.

“Thank you, Padawan. I am showing Anakin some forms right now, I will be quite a while longer. Why don’t you take a break for a bit and then return to evaluating the hyper drive.” His voice faded out and the transmission ended.

Kenobi looked at the comm unit for a moment. “Yeah, don’t say bye or anything,” he muttered, and shook his head as he returned the unit to his belt, then resumed worrying his shoulder.

One thing Padme had come to realize is that Obi-Wan’s manner of speech changed drastically once he got comfortable with someone. Before their earlier conversation, the young Jedi was all about cordial distance. Now, he spoke to her as one would to an old friend. The thought made her smile.

Getting up from the table, Padme walked over to Obi-Wan and motioned for him to turn around. He gave her a bemused look before complying.

Hesitantly, Padme reached up and placed her small hands on the muscle in question. Kenobi tensed briefly, relaxed and allowed the contact. A small smile for a victory won, and the Queen began to press into the muscle with her fingers, making little circles with her hands.

“Well, he may have ‘knocked you on your ass,’ Obi-Wan, but it took him a long time to do it. You two were truly amazing, I’ve never seen anything like it.” As she massaged the Jedi’s shoulder, her eyes took in the line of his neck, the color of his short hair, the weird little ponytail in the back, the braid behind his ear, fixed with different colored beads and bands. This close to him, she could smell the scents of his clean tunics, the slight citrus of the shampoo kept onboard, and a faintly spicy fragrance that could have been aftershave or some other personal product; she suspected that this last was just how Obi-Wan smelled.

The Jedi rolled his neck as she continued, and both heard the faint popping as he did so. “Jedi spend a lifetime in physical training,” Obi-Wan finally replied. “Just so we can come to obscure planets and impress pretty girls like you.” The tone was deadpan, and Padme delighted in the man’s wry sense of humor.

Finally, Padme felt the muscle begin to loosen. “Oh, that feels good,” Obi-Wan murmured. At that Padme just about combusted with a sudden spark of desire.

She tried her best to keep her voice from trembling. “You know, this muscle really is tight. It’s starting to let go, but...Well, it would be much easier if you were lying down. You’re quite a bit taller than I am, Sir Jedi.”

As if suddenly realizing he had been inadvertently rude, he blushed and turned around. “Oh, I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized. I guess that’s quite a reach for you, isn’t it? Wow, how thoughtless of me.” He shook his head. “You know, really, I’m fine. You don’t need to continue, but thanks, it does feel a bit better.” He rotated his shoulder and winced.

She smiled at him and crossed her arms. “Now, don’t you go apologizing to me, Obi-Wan Kenobi! You didn’t ask me to do that, I volunteered. And I’d like to continue, it’s the least I can do, you and your Master risking life and limb for people you don’t even know.” Obi-Wan drew in a breath as if he were about to speak. “No, no, don’t give me the ‘it’s just our duty’ line. I know it is, but still...” She reached out and took his larger hand in hers. “Come, I want to do this but I’m simply too short to do it with you standing up. So come with me -“ She pulled him along toward the Queen’s suite as she spoke. “-And let me give you this small token of appreciation.”

For a small girl she was very strong, and Obi-Wan found himself pulled along quite efficiently. Rounding another corner, they entered a suite of rooms that were comfortably appointed but not excessive. The bed was large and comfortable looking. A spark of nervousness hit him as he wondered if that was their destination. Just as he was about to voice his concerns, Padme spoke.

“Here, a hard surface is best. Just lie face down on the floor here...Wait, wait.” She strode to the bed and removed the comforter and a pillow. Padme spread the blanket on the floor and placed the pillow at the top edge, then smiled up at him.

As he made to sit down, she hesitated again. “Uh, actually, you know, this would work much better if you took your shirt off.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “You know, less friction?”

He nodded slowly. “Ooook...” And began to remove his robe and tunics.

Her smile was a bit too happy but he let it slide. “Great. Ok you lie down there, and I’ll be right back!” She dashed off deeper into the suite. He shrugged and shook his head again, then followed her directives.

When Padme returned, she found Obi-Wan lying face down on the comforter, head turned to the side on the pillow, stripped to the waist. He had also decided to remove his boots, which left him in his leggings and nothing else. She drank the sight in, then advanced to sit next to him.

He smiled up at her. “If its one thing Jedi are good at, its following orders.” He thought of his Master. “Well. Most of us, anyway.” His laugh was genuine and a bit rueful. Padme didn’t get the joke, but it was so nice to see him laugh that she laughed right along with him anyway.

She held up the small bottle of bath oil she had retrieved from the fresher, and coated her hands with it. Herbal smells filled the room, and Obi-Wan breathed in deeply. “I just love plant smells, “ He said. “On Coruscant, all you get are artificial and machine type smells.” He looked thoughtful. “Oh, and the decay and putrid type smells, those are quite common too, if you're lucky and know just where to look.”

Padme laughed, and the Jedi smiled contentedly. Over the next few minutes, the girl massaged his shoulder with oil and pressure, until the pulled muscle relaxed substantially. Obi-Wan showed no signs of protest as she moved on to the other shoulder, then further on down to his back and hips. Eventually, she nudged him in the side, and was rewarded when he obligingly rolled over onto his back.

Suddenly daring, Padme slid her leg over his body and sat astride him. His eyes opened at this, but did not appear alarmed. She began to lightly massage his chest, and his eyes slid back closed.

Good gods, She thought. I can’t believe I just did that!

His chest felt better than she imagined. It was smooth and soft, not hairless but not overly hairy; just perfect. She began to wonder if there was anything about this man that WASN’T perfect.

Her hands ran over his nipples and he jumped slightly, causing her to bounce on his hips for a moment. Padme looked at his face again to find his eyes half open, regarding her intently. As she stared back at him, she felt something coming to life underneath her. Slightly embarrassed, she began to blush and smiled shyly. His lips curved up in a grin and he closed his eyes once more.

Padme leaned forward to run her hands through his hair. It was soft and silky, and she found herself wishing there were more of it. With a sudden flash of inspiration, she reached behind his head and pulled the tie out of his ponytail. A good amount of soft ginger hair flowed around her fingers; she pressed closer to him and used her hands to fan it out behind his head. Taking her eyes from his hair, she looked down to realize her face was level with his, only inches apart, and the eyes that bored into hers were emerald green instead of the grey blue she was accustomed to seeing.

Before she could contemplate this, let alone remark on it, Obi-Wan had lifted his head to close the gap between them, and his mouth was suddenly latched onto hers in a kiss that made her forget to breathe.

Obi-Wan brought one arm around her waist, clutching her to him, while he used the other arm to lever them up into a sitting position. She drew her legs around him and suddenly found herself sitting in his lap, a prominent erection tenting his leggings up and poking at her inner thigh.

He moaned into her mouth and drew back a few inches, panting. She regarded him intently, her hands still fisted in his hair, her breathing shallow and ragged. He stared back at her, his expression alone doing things to her that she could scarcely believe. Holy fuck, she thought, this can’t be real. But the hand roaming down to unzip her shirt sure felt real enough.

Still staring into her eyes, Obi-Wan began to rock softly, his erection pressing higher up her thigh with each movement. “I suppose...” He began, and she marveled at the steady cadence of his voice, reveled in a whiskey smooth rasp that had not been in his tone before. “I suppose...” he continued as he began to lick and nip at her shoulder, “that this would be a bad time to confess that I know you’re really the Queen, huh?”

Before she could reply, Obi-Wan’s comm unit sounded. Padme decided it was the most hated sound in the universe. He flashed her a look of apology and reached under her thigh to detach the unit from his belt. She gave a little squeak, and he grinned hugely.

“Yes, Master?” He pulled her tighter to him, and she rested her cheek on his shoulder.

“I am done with Anakin now, and I need you to continue with the hyper drive if you haven’t already. I am going to take my shower, and then I’d like to do a bit more with Ani. Report to me when your testing is complete.”

“Yes, Master, I will.” He tried to keep his voice steady as Padme pinched his nipple. STOP THAT, he mouthed at her.

Her grin was far too wicked for his taste.

“Obi-Wan?” A curious tone.

“Yes, Master?” Obi-Wan returned the pinch and Padme gave a sharp ‘squeak!’

“Where are you, anyway? And what was that noise?”

“I’m in the Queen’s suite, Master. Ahm, Padme thought she saw a rat in here and she’s trying to, ah...” Padme laughed at him silently. “She’s trying to draw it out by squeaking at it, Master.”

Padme put her hands to her stomach and pantomimed guffawing. She pointed at Obi-Wan and mouthed “LAME” at him. He rolled his eyes and shrugged.

The silence from the comm began to worry Kenobi. Finally, Qui-Gon replied.

“Is it working?” No inflection whatsoever in Jinn’s voice.

“Of course not, Master. I will help her straighten up in here and then return to the hyper drive, Master.” Obi-Wan gently lifted Padme off his lap with a sympathetic look, then got to his feet.

“All right, Padawan. Enough foolishness for one day. Comm me when your tests are done.” The communication snapped off and Obi-Wan exhaled hugely.

Padme laughed uproariously at him. “A rat? Kenobi, that is so lame!” She began gathering up the bedding and fixing it back where it belonged as Obi-Wan dressed.

He looked at her slyly as he arranged his tunics and sash. “Well *I* wasn’t the one *squeaking*, was I? No, that would be *you*, Your Highness.”

She stopped and planted her hands on her hips. “Oh, yes, how exactly did you know that little fact, huh?”

Obi-Wan smiled at her and sat to put his boots on. “Look, Queenie, I’d love to sit here and chat you up, but if I don’t get down to that hyper drive, my Master is going to have my ass on a platter.” He stood up and began walking toward the door.

“Well, *I’d* like to have...” She began.

“Nope! Duty calls.” He flung over his shoulder flippantly. Then he stopped and turned around. His voice became deadly serious and very quiet.

“Look, Padme, we DO need to talk. But I can’t right now. You’re a beautiful girl, and I like you very much, but...” A sigh. “I really do have to go, I will talk with you later, ok?” He looked at her with such friendly affection that her breath caught.

“Yes, go. I’m fine, really, I am! Go, before you get in trouble.” She smiled and waved him off.

As the door shut behind him, Padme sighed. Such a sweet, gentle man, she thought. Here I am, contriving ways to get in his pants, and he’s worried about hurting my feelings.

Padme finished cleaning up, made one more check for the imaginary rat, and lie down on her bed, the feel of Obi-Wan’s skin and mouth aiding her in her now solo pursuit.

Obi-Wan sat at the small table, waiting for his Master to arrive. He had called the man earlier on his comm unit to report on the hyper drive, and had been rebuffed. His Master was busy showing Anakin some meditation techniques and could not be interrupted. This bothered Obi Wan. No, it didn't bother him; it pissed him right off.

I’m trying to follow orders here, he griped to himself. *I* am Qui-Gon Jinn's apprentice, dammit. NOT Anakin. For now, anyway. His thoughts turned morose and drew his mood ever downward.

Tracing invisible symbols on the table surface, he waited. He could have stayed with Padme for all the extra time his Master was making him wait. I guess Anakin’s time is more valuable than mine, Obi-Wan thought bitterly.

Finally, an hour later, footsteps approached, and the young Jedi heard the chattering of Skywalker along with the occasional short sound of Qui-Gon's deep voice. Spying Kenobi at the table, Anakin rushed ahead of the Jedi Master and sat in the only available chair. The boy's gleeful grin made Obi Wan cringe.

Standing, Obi-Wan gestured to the seat he had moved away from. "Master, please sit; you look like you could use a rest." With a pointed look at Anakin, the younger Jedi walked to the small kitchen's counter and leaned against it.

Qui-Gon made no comment, only nodded appreciatively to his Padawan and smiled. The expression was not a common one, and Obi-Wan's heart fluttered at the sight.

He returned the smile, giving his Master a dazzling expression that, truth be told, was just as much an endangered species as his Master's. Force, after all these years, and still his smile makes me want to throw myself at his feet and beg him to love me. The realization was a painful one, and Kenobi's grin faded.

The silence became uncomfortable, and Obi-Wan cleared his throat and spoke.

"I've finished testing the hyperdrive Master, and everything checks out. Everything is packed on to the ship, all other systems check out, and all personall are on board. We can leave as soon as you'd like."

Qui Gon glared at Obi-Wan, who gazed back blandly.

"Why did you not tell me this when you commed, Padawan?" Master Jinn's voice was just a bit hard.

"I attempted to, Master. You told me you were busy and I should wait here for you. I have been sitting here over an hour, Master. You asked that I not disturb you again, and I followed your order. Master." Kenobi's voice was even and uninflected.

Anakin looked back and forth between the two men, fascinated. Is this how jedi argue? the boy wondered. He was used to yelling and screaming, but somehow this tense restraint was worse.

Qui-Gon's brow furrowed. His gaze turned to Anakin, and he addressed the boy gently. "Anakin, why don't you go see what Jar Jar is up to. I need to speak to Obi-Wan, and I fear leaving the Gungan alone for too long."

Given a mission, the boy perked up and nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, Master, I'll go find him and keep an eye on him." The boy scampered off, happy to fulfill a mission for the older Jedi.

A stab of nausea went through Obi-Wan as Anakin called Qui-Gon 'Master'. His head swam as a picture flashed through his mind: His Master, the boy, and himself stood in the Council chamber; His Master's hands rested on Anakin's shoulders, the blue eyes hard, lips thinned in a stern line, and Obi-Wan's own face held a look of anguished astonishment that came and went so fast that he had to wonder if it had been there at all. Somehow, he knew that it had. The tension and heightened emotion of the scene overwhelmed the young Jedi; suddenly his knees decided they did not want to hold him up any longer.

Obi-Wan snapped back to reality to find Anakin gone, and his Master holding him tenderly in his arms. The smaller man's body was bonelessly leaning into that of his Master, his head reclined back slightly, mere inches from Qui-Gon's.

Qui-Gon's free arm circled his apprentice's slender waist, supporting his weight. The large hand rested on the junction of belly and hip, and Qui-Gon distantly noted the combination of hard bone and tender flesh beneath the robe and tunics. The Master gazed down into Obi-Wan's not-quite-focused eyes, and one hand came up to cup his face. The hand settled there, thumb gently caressing the cleft in the younger man's chin.

Obi-Wan instinctively reached his hands out. Moving closer to his Master, his arms went around Qui-Gon’s waist, hands resting just on the swell of the other man’s ass.

Jinn's eyebrows drew together in concern. "Obi-Wan? Are you all right, Padawan?" His voice was soft, husky, and filled with worry. Distantly he became aware that Obi-Wan had shifted forward slightly, and his apprentice’s hands were now gently flexing in Qui-Gon’s tunics, somewhere in the area of his backside.

Obi-Wan's eyes gradually fixed on his Master's face, and a pink flush slowly crept up his neck as he swallowed heavily. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. His mind was working rapidly, a jumble of confusion brought on by the disturbing vision so quickly followed by an unexpectantly intimate embrace from his Master. Obi-Wan blinked a few times, nodded slightly. The movement brought Qui-Gon's thumb into contact with Obi-Wan's lower lip; Moving with the nod, the thumb began stroking back and forth, a light but sensual touch, and Obi-Wan's eyes went wide before closing completely.

Qui-Gon suddenly realized the fact that he was lovingly stroking his apprentice's bottom lip. His hand stilled it's movement, but did not retreat from it's place on Obi-Wan's cheek. "Obi-Wan?" Said in a breath so soft that the words barely registered to either Jedi. The warm exhalation flowed over Obi-Wan's face, and the young Jedi had the absurd thought that if he were to die on the spot, it would be a pleasant way to go.

Qui-Gon's stared at the slightly parted lips of his apprentice. His eyelids drooped and he lowered his head to lightly brush his lips against Obi-Wan's, softly running the tip of his tongue along the line of his Padawan's lip.

Obi-Wan moaned softly and melted into his Master. Qui-Gon leaned in further to seal their mouths together, and the result was a slow, sweet mingling that sent heat to his groin and air to his head. He gently raised his hand to cradle the back of his Padawan's head, to stroke the soft hair and skin...

Obi-Wan opened his eyes wide and suddenly came to his senses, jerking back out of his Master's embrace so fast that Qui-Gon had to struggle briefly to regain his balance lest he fall forward on his face. Fixing his gaze on the floor, Kenobi coughed and shuffled his feet. Refusing to address the kiss, Obi-Wan instead chose to answer the original question. "Ahm, f-fine, I'm fine." Not lifting his head, the apprentice glanced upward quickly then resumed staring at the floor. "S-sorry, Master. I, I think the heat has gotten to me, Master...If I may go lie down?" Without waiting for an answer, Obi-Wan bolted for the ship's sleeping quarters.

Qui-Gon stood alone, shocked and bewildered as he became aware of an uncomfortable tightness in his leggings. Bringing his hand up to his face, he lightly traced his lips where they still burned from the brief contact. His worry for his apprentice warred with his obvious arousal, making him feel guilty. He wanted to go to Obi-Wan, apologize, try to explain, but the young man had plainly wanted to be alone. And no wonder, Qui-Gon thought. Obi Wan obviously had some kind of problem, I practically accosted the poor boy. How could I take advantage like that?

Shaking his head in disgust with himself, Qui-Gon made his way to the cockpit to inform Olie it was time to go.

(continued in part 2)