Master
Apprentice  Archive
Single Helix
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Content: POV, mild angst, first time, romance
Pairing: Qui/Obi
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Spoilers: none
Summary: The boys consider destiny and nucleic acid.
Feedback: would be lovely
Disclaimer: Obi and Qui belong to Mr. Lucas and were treated with the utmost respect and tenderness during the writing of this fanfiction.
Across the common room, my padawan straightened in his seat a little too quickly.
"No, Master, I'm just studying the flowering habit of the Iberian violet cress," he said without turning around, in a voice so perfectly calm it could have fooled anyone.
Almost.
"Padawan, I can hear you smiling," I said, feeling my own lips curving. "And you haven't turned the page you're on for at least forty-five minutes."
Three full seconds passed, and then my apprentice stood, turned, and solemnly walked over to my work table to take a seat across from me. It could have been the beginning of any routine report, except that Obi-Wan's eyebrows threatened to lift right off his face with barely-contained joy.
"Sorry about the studying," he began, a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression.
I smiled and impatiently waved aside the apology. "Never mind that -- I want to know who has won the heart of Obi-Wan Kenobi...!"
Obi-Wan looked scandalized. As well he had a right to be. There's probably no better guarantee of mortification than to be interrogated so directly about a first crush.
Damn it. My padawan was most sincere and forthcoming -- when asked. He had yet to spontaneously share anything personal with me, and I'd probably just guaranteed he wouldn't be doing so in any conceivable future.
He stared at me, eyes wide. All right, maybe 'scandalized' was too much, but he did look surprised, so very surprised. I waited for the flush of real embarrassment that was sure to come, followed closely by the indignant look of someone who's just blushed in front of someone else, followed immediately by a polite and abrupt end to the conversation.
But Obi-Wan's face did not pink, and it did not close. "Master, how did you know?" he asked, clearly in awe. "How did you know that I've met someone? Did the Force tell you?"
I was so busy feeling relieved -- I hadn't alienated him after all -- that it took me several moments to realize that Obi-Wan was still waiting patiently for an answer.
"No, Padawan, it was not the Force. I simply noticed my apprentice, whose attention does not falter when he studies, staring off into hyperspace for the better part of an hour--"
"Sorry, Master," he interrupted, looking slightly embarrassed again.
"--and wearing a smile to light half of Coruscant."
"Yes, Master," he said, eyebrows preparing to take flight again. "So, do you want to hear about Taren?"
I'd never seen him quite so happy before, and the joy was truly infectious. For one thrilling instant, I felt like a padawan myself, with everything seeming new and unbearably wonderful. I wanted nothing more than to accept anything he wanted to share with me.
In that same instant, I was no longer only Obi-Wan's mentor. I became his friend.
I would not break the double trust he had placed in me.
"Yes, my Obi-Wan," I said carefully, offering the kindest smile I had. "I'd love to hear everything about Taren. How did you meet her -- I mean, *him*, or, I mean -- I don't think I've ever heard the name 'Taren' before--"
Damn it.
Obi-Wan rescued me. "It's okay, Master," he said with a grin. "I'm not sure if Taren's species *has* sexes, so I don't really know what pronouns to use, either." He looked momentarily confused, and then he brightened again. "Oh, but Taren's *fantastic*, Master! And we like the same things and read the same books and don't like the same foods and...."
I listened to Obi-Wan well into evening, quietly amazed -- yet not at all amazed -- at his utter lack of awkwardness or self-consciousness. Once or twice he did look a little embarrassed again about his earlier distraction. But as to his feelings, he could not have been more at ease with them, and with sharing them with me.
Perhaps there would always be those who would fumble through life afraid or unable to connect with others. Obi-Wan would not be one of those people.
After we cleared the table of dinnerware, Obi-Wan thanked me for teaching him so much already. He said he was sure someone as amazing as Taren would never have liked him back if he hadn't been a properly respectable person. Then he settled down and returned to the botany text he'd neglected. He was soon making notes on his data slates.
I turned back to my own work for the evening, coincidentally also involving plants. But genetic analysis of some of Coruscant's native flora had to wait, for it was my turn to be unfocused. I just kept looking over at Obi-Wan and thinking that maybe he was the one teaching me.
"I really mean it, Master," Obi-Wan said, eyes meeting mine to make sure I understood. "You don't need to worry about me anymore. I've already kept you from your work today."
"Padawan, I suspect the evolutionary history of Corellia's sea stars can remain unresolved for a while longer...."
Obi-Wan slumped down on the sofa and allowed himself one long sigh. "Kaon wasn't the *one*, and it does hurt, but I'll get over it with a little time. I'll be all right, Master."
I had to smile. Who was consoling whom? "I have no doubt you'll be fine, Obi-Wan," I agreed.
Suddenly he sat up. "Master," he started, expression and tone momentarily less weary, "do *you* believe we each are destined for someone out there, someone who is 'the one' for us?"
I sat down beside him. "Well, Padawan--"
"I know, I know, what's important is what *I* believe." He shifted a little to face me. "And what if the person who's right for you lives in another star system, and you never meet? What if that person is already with someone else, or is totally incompatible -- physically, you know -- with humans?"
"I suppose you'd both feel *extremely* frustrated," I answered without thinking.
"Master!" Obi-Wan sounded equal parts shocked at my words and pleased that I would joke with him, and then he laughed in that open, friendly way that always made whomever happened to be in his company want to share in that laughter. "Thanks, I think I needed that," he said finally, when we'd both stopped laughing.
I sat with him for some time after that, and he didn't say anything more about keeping me from work.
"It's totally pointless!" Obi-Wan blurted out, causing me to lose my place on the data display.
I rubbed my eyes, tired from staring at the screen for hours. "What is?"
"DNA... gene sequences... this!" He pointed angrily at his own data display but didn't look at me.
The galaxy was filled with full-time scientists. Still, I volunteered on this project out of the deep conviction that every species in the Living Force deserved to be known in its uniqueness, and in its relationship to everything else.
Ever since he'd known me, Obi-Wan had seen me spend part of my time, whenever I had time, analyzing raw sequence data sent to me from a field scientist in the Outer Rim, or starting fresh with a bit of leaf placed in my own sequencer. I had been so pleased when Obi-Wan had expressed interest in the task, asking me how to operate the sequencer and to explain how to interpret the results.
And now that I knew he didn't share my interest after all--
I knew Obi-Wan's likes and dislikes did not reflect his opinion of me, and yet--
"Obi-Wan, you know that this work is purely voluntary for me," I said, keeping my voice neutral. "You have even less obligation because you volunteered to help a volunteer. Please feel free to occupy your spare time as you choose."
He turned sharply toward me, and his expression immediately softened. I knew that he'd read the disappointment I had tried and apparently failed to keep off my face.
"Oh, Master, I'm sorry--"
"No, it's all right--"
"No, Master," he insisted. "I didn't mean *this* was pointless. I'm happy to help you, happy to do this with you." He looked so apologetic at having upset me that I almost started apologizing back.
Instead, I tried a calming breath. "What is it, then, Obi-Wan?"
"It's... it's stupid, really."
That's what he always said right before bringing up something decidedly *not* stupid. I waited.
"It's this," he said at last, turning his data display around so that I could see.
On his screen, as on mine, were rows and rows of the same four letters T, G, A, and C in countless combinations. I read the lower left-hand corner of the screen: candytuft, western continent, Malastare. In the lower right-hand corner was a schematic drawing of two strands of DNA, twined endlessly around each other.
I looked at Obi-Wan and back at the screen. The data was just like all the data I'd ever studied. It confirmed that a tiny plant from halfway across the galaxy shared the same basic genetic make-up as humans, and birds, and Alderaanian jellyfish. To me there was no better reminder that the strangeness and diversity of the universe were bound together in the Force.
"Obi-Wan, I don't understand."
He looked pained for a moment and then enlarged the DNA schematic to fill the screen. I could see the bases thymine, guanine, adenine, and cytosine, clearly holding the two strands of DNA together at every point.
"This is all we are, Master. These bases, these little letters shoved between phosphates and sugars, strands and strands of these same little molecular units."
I didn't say anything while Obi-Wan took a very deep breath. He looked at me sadly for what seemed a long time, and then he said in a very quiet voice, "Lira broke it off with me."
"Oh, Padawan."
"Said it wasn't destiny, wasn't meant to be, and I wasn't 'the one,' and could we still be friends?"
"Obi-Wan, I'm so sorry." Privately, I fought the urge to gently strangle Padawan Sarani.
"I am nothing but these four letters over and over," he said, pointing to the display again. "They determine very precisely what proteins my cells will build, and no more. That's the only destiny there is."
"Why don't you take a break?" I suggested, not sure what else to say. I didn't have any comforting words and didn't think for a second that such words would be useful in any case. Obi-Wan always worked through these things on his own terms.
"I think that's a good idea." He began saving the work he'd done. When the screen had shut down, Obi-Wan turned to me. "Destiny's a pretty suspect concept, anyway. If you meet someone and you're happy together, that's destiny. If your heart is breaking, you say that it must not have been destiny. Personally, I find that just a little too convenient, Master."
I said nothing about how my heart was breaking to hear his voice so emotionless.
Obi-Wan stood up from his chair. As he pulled on his robes, he caught my look and smiled ruefully. "You *are* helping me, Master, just like you always have."
He saw me so clearly. He knew me better than I knew him.
"And I'll finish the candytuft sequences when I get back."
"Don't worry about that. Just enjoy your evening," I managed through my lingering astonishment.
Obi-Wan smiled again, less sadly than before. "I'll be at the cafe if you need me," he said, waving his comm, and then he left.
I would not have faulted him for staying out until dawn in the most disreputable establishment he could get into. But he returned not long after two in the morning, just as I had resigned myself to a sleepless night. I heard him step into the washroom, and several minutes later, I heard him step out. The next thing I knew, morning had come. I passed the common room on the way to the kitchen and found Obi-Wan fast asleep at the work table. His analysis of the candytuft sequences was complete, and he had nearly finished work on a second plant from the same family.
"Master, with your permission, I would like to use a strand of your hair for sequence analysis."
Obi-Wan looked hopeful -- *suspiciously* hopeful -- for someone just having a midday meal with his master on one of the slowest days in one of the slowest months in recent memory.
I put down my tea. "And what, dare I ask, will you be comparing my genome with, Padawan?"
It had begun as my project, but Obi-Wan had grown more expert than I was. He could examine the sequences of very diverse organisms from a single planet and, based on the differences in those sequences, estimate the last time that each of the organisms had shared a common ancestor. Obi-Wan's estimates matched, with impressive accuracy, the numbers reached by more conventional methods of radio-dating.
In the last two weeks, he had moved beyond single planets to the challenge of comparing organisms from far-flung systems. So far, he seemed drawn to the most outlandish combinations of species possible....
"Well, Obi-Wan?" I pressed, when he still hadn't answered.
His smile bore the faintest touch of mischief. "It's a surprise, Master. But I promise not to put your hair next to slime mold from Dagobah."
References to our distant Dagobah cousins were fast becoming a running joke. I almost responded in kind, but there was something else in his eyes -- something serious under his good humor -- that stopped me. Instead, I simply nodded.
"Hold still, please," he said, placing his fingertips momentarily on my face. Deftly he separated a strand of hair and cut it off at the halfway point. "Thank you."
I caught his hand before he moved away. "What do you hope to find?" I asked, surprised by the trace of anticipation in my own voice.
"You'll see," he said, smiling at me.
"I know it's a little late, but would you like to see?" Obi-Wan stood in the doorway of my sleeping quarters, looking unmistakably pleased.
Was it my imagination or had gravity just increased ten-fold in the immediate vicinity of my stomach?
"Lead the way, Padawan."
I followed him back to the common room. He'd moved my chair around the work table so that we could both sit in front of his data display. The screen itself had been split to show two files at once.
"This," he said, pointing at the top half of the screen, "is you."
I leaned forward in my seat. "Thymine, cytosine, adenine, adenine, adenine, adenine, adenine.... What am I looking for again?"
"Just keep reading for a little."
It was kind of strange studying, well, *myself* like this, but I did as Obi-Wan asked. "... adenine, adenine, adenine, adenine, adenine, adenine.... Wait, this portion of the sequence isn't part of any gene. It's a spacer region that doesn't code any proteins."
Obi-Wan grinned. "So if there are slight changes in the sequence, or even some unusual bases, it doesn't adversely affect the organism. I know, Master. That was one of the first things you taught me."
"Yes, I remember--"
"And this is the same spacer region in me." He indicated the lower half of the screen. "See? Adenine, adenine, adenine, adenine...."
It moved me beyond good reason to know that Obi-Wan had placed us and considered us together in this way. I knew it was just bits on a display, a representation of data collected by a sophisticated machine and processed by another sophisticated machine. But I felt connected to him in a way that could not be expressed in terms of friendship, similar ideals, and common experiences.
I almost didn't hear what he said next.
"...adenine, adenine, adenine, adenine, adenine... queuine, uracil, and inosine," he finished.
"What?"
"I know, won't the Council be pleased to hear that Padawan Kenobi is even more of a nonconformist than his master?" He laughed, and I had the most curious impression that he was trying to distract me from something. No, not distract me. Test.
Queuine, uracil, inosine.
Q, U, I.
Qui.
I looked at Obi-Wan.
"So you get it," he said cheerfully. "I ran the sequence again and again, and then I compared it with everything we have on file, Temple records, and finally your hair sample. But that variation is unique to me."
That was my cue to say something, but nothing would come out. So Obi-Wan said it for me.
"You are coded into me, Master. I could be no one's apprentice but yours."
It was coincidence, an artifact of a particular science and a particular language, but even coincidences could contain truth. For what he also meant, but left unsaid, was, "You have always had my confidence." Obi-Wan had showed me again that, whatever my past faults and future mistakes, I could claim one act that was *not* a mistake: taking him as my padawan.
I laughed with him. "Gratitude is an admirable sentiment, Padawan. However, I should like to recommend that you express yours in some other fashion."
"Well, why not, Master? We both know that no decent planet has only one ecosystem, but it still *seems* like Verdu 3 is just one giant, perfectly cultivated garden." He paused and spread his arms wide. "I mean, it's beautiful here. And all we have to do is walk around and meet some of the people. It's not such a tough call between this and blaster fire flying past my ear."
"I'm glad to see you taking your diplomatic responsibilities so seriously," I teased, suddenly wishing I could remove my boots and walk barefoot through the different shades of grass. "I'll put in a request for ambassadorial duties next time the Republic admits a planet that permits the first official Jedi visitors to collect its sacred plants for further study."
Obi-Wan threw a twig at me. "I didn't see *you* cataloguing anything for the past two hours." He smiled sweetly. "Master."
I arched an eyebrow, and he burst into good-natured laughter.
"Have it *your* way, Padawan," I said, just barely keeping a straight face. "We'll go back for our tools and continue with the mission."
"Damn."
"We'll walk slowly," I offered.
It was no illusion that we were a better team than ever, and on Verdu it was no illusion that we were also getting along better than ever. But that there was a reason behind this -- a reason beyond familiarity, experience, and Verdu's calming atmosphere -- that was an illusion I would indulge until the mission was over.
"Obi-Wan, did you forget our--Oh, good day, Master Jinn."
"Good day, Darat." I returned the young man's bow.
"Darat!" My padawan smiled and bowed also.
The young man handed Obi-Wan one of two or three thin, folded blankets he was carrying. "The hillside ceremony is starting. We're going to miss it."
Obi-Wan glanced at me. But he didn't need my permission, and I wasn't going to begrudge him the company of his new friends.
Illusions or no illusions.
"If you see something unique, try to make a note of it, and we'll collect a sample later." I thought I sounded very even.
"Yes, Master." He looked a little longer at me, then turned and left with Darat.
It was always a joy that Obi-Wan connected so easily with others. Though we had been planet-side for just under a week, he'd already earned the friendship of several of the Verdu, and his new friends sought him out for part of each day. He seemed to enjoy spending time with them, especially Darat, who was genial, handsome, and a little taken with Obi-Wan.
And I hadn't seen him happy in quite the same fashion since Padawan Sarani. So I would not begrudge him the company of his friends. Anyway, there was a small but beautifully shaded grove close by that I wanted to visit again, and I could very well do that on my own.
I traced my fingers along the path of the ivy. Its twin vines turned gently around the tree trunk and blended very neatly into the pattern in the bark.
"Master."
I turned around and saw only Obi-Wan, still holding the blanket his friend had given him. "I thought you were going with Darat just now."
"Be with me."
"It's kind of you to ask, but you don't always have to include me."
"No, Qui-Gon. *Be* with me."
There was no illusion in his determination.
He looked puzzled at my hesitation. "Don't you want?" he asked, except it didn't really sound like a question.
I found my breath. "But you're waiting for your -- for your destiny. That's important to you. I won't complicate that for you."
"Have you noticed there's something passive, or involuntary, in the concept of destiny?" He reached for a lock of my hair and let it slide through his fingers. "I don't know -- maybe destiny is real. But even if the very letters of your name are written inside me, *this* has nothing to do with chance or fate."
He stepped away and unfolded the blanket on the grass.
I must have gaped at him then because he laughed softly.
"Why *not* here? It's more private than the villa, where people keep knocking at the suite."
"And why is that blanket so small? Wait--"
"How large do we need it to be, Master?" More soft laughter.
"This isn't funny."
"I know. It's kind of--"
"And please don't call me 'Master' right now."
"--wonderful. It's kind of wonderful. Qui-Gon."
Why did I feel like I'd just been picked up and shaken around -- and had enjoyed it thoroughly? "Why do you keep talking as if we've made some kind of decision already?"
Obi-Wan's laughter had subsided, and he spoke calmly. "Why *haven't* we made a decision? The Force is near bursting with your enthusiasm."
I wanted it, without question. "But what about the *one*?"
"You *are* the one... who gave me confidence, who saw the potential in me, who listens to me and stands with me. I told you, there is nothing of fate or destiny to this." He looked me very directly in the eyes. "I *choose* you -- just like you once chose *me*."
"Obi-Wan..."
"Choose me again."
Force. "Yes."
A brilliant smile spread across his face. It was suddenly replaced by a far more wicked grin. He shrugged off his robes.
"Padawan, you're *not* serious -- *here*?"
"Do you want me to stop?"
I looked at him, then his discarded robes, then the blanket, then him again. I felt a grin of my own coming on. "No."
"Then don't call me 'Padawan' right now."
"This blanket really *is* small. And, my feet can feel the grass blades right through the fabric.... What?"
His look -- raked over me. "I've seen you like this before, plenty of times." Eyes darkened. "But I've never really seen you before."
Things got serious.
I kissed him without further preamble. His mouth parted, and he was so wet and soft. I felt his hands, his fingers, everywhere -- touching my hair, rubbing my neck, tracing down my back, reaching between us. Heat plunged downward and made me ache for him. He felt it. Smiled into my lips, broke the kiss.
"Go first, then?" he asked, another question that was not a question.
But. Wait. "I'm sorry, I didn't know I was supposed to come prepared today."
Obi-Wan looked around, found a peculiar-looking dried leaf in the grass. He walked to the tree with the spiraling ivy and ran the edge of the leaf gently but firmly along the trunk. Sap flowed from the thin cut into his hand.
"Trust me," he said. "Darat is assistant to the chief botanist. Verdu 3 is full of interesting and *useful* plants."
Some of the sap dripped onto the blanket as he rubbed it slowly on me. "Feels incredibly warm on your skin, doesn't it? It's supposed to." That look of mischief came back for a second. "It's edible, too," he started. But then he read my expression and dropped to the blanket.
I knelt behind him. Nudged his thighs further apart. Kissed his shoulder once.
Slid inside him.
"Obi-Wan, oh god--"
Wordlessly, he pulled my arm around his chest. I held him still against me and reached with my other arm. He moaned at my touch, and the waver of his voice cut a fierce line of pleasure through me. The length of him filled and hardened in my hand. I learned the shape of him and the feel of him, and he was breathless before I could know him completely. He grabbed my fingers away, turned my palm up, and spread the tree sap still clinging to his hand onto mine.
"More," he whispered, guiding my hand back and moving it over and over along his shaft. "Yes, like that."
I began moving inside him, too, following the rhythm he had set for me.
He was so good. So hot. He moved with me, groaned my name, made sounds of pleasure that wove deeply into my core.
Obi-Wan turned his head as far as he could, seeking my mouth with his. Our lips could not quite seal, but I could taste him, and feel the cries he made into my mouth.
"Harder," he urged against my lips, and my every forward movement was met with a backward one. But between maintaining his pleasure and mine, I could not manage more. Impatient, he pushed my hand away from his erection. "Harder," he repeated.
I grabbed his hips with both hands and did as he asked, thrusting deeper, faster, ever harder into his tightness.
The pauses between his moans shortened until they seemed to disappear, and I knew he was jerking into his own hand. His voice grew harsh and lost its coherence. I gripped him still harder and pulled his hips to mine again and again.
Suddenly I wanted *his* gratification more than my own. There was something so unbearably erotic about hearing Obi-Wan's desperate sounds, about knowing how he was touching himself, and about feeling him move with such familiarity against me.
"Qui-Gon, harder, I'm -- aaah --" he cried a final time, and I was painfully close.
He brought his fingers to his lips, turned to kiss me. I tasted his seed, the proof of his pleasure mingling with the sweetness of the tree sap on his tongue.
I died a little when I came, spilling my seed into him.
We collapsed on the blanket-covered ground, breaths short and heartbeats erratic. After a while Obi-Wan turned to me -- and directed my eyes to the bruises my fingers had made on his hips.
"Your name is inscribed within me. Your essence is inside me. The imprints of your hands are upon me. How many ways will you mark me?"
I looked at him -- at my apprentice, friend, partner, lover.
"In fewer ways than you will mark *me*,
Obi-Wan."
End.