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He was exhausted, emotionally and physically wrung out, but he had an inkling deep inside that there was a great deal more to it than that. Not ready at this point to delve too deeply into his own motivations, he shunted those thoughts away and chose to concentrate on the more pressing problem at hand. Namely, the roiling morass of anger and frustration he felt exuding from his Master through the flimsy barrier of the doorway. It had been much easier to face up to his actions when he had been unable to feel Qui-Gon's emotions, and he wondered if he were going to be facing another extended period of study with the Accumulated Histories of Known Galactic Cultures. If he remembered correctly, he was up to Volume 38 of 540 from his last mis-step with his Master.

Obi-Wan pulled back his shoulder blades until he heard them crack, trying to relieve the tension in his body as he attempted the same with his emotions. Blast it all, though! He had been right in his decision. Although he had been denied active involvement in the negotiations up to that point by Cerlonese tradition, he certainly could not stand idly by while Drah'Nor's baby sister had been pulled into the potentially deadly role of Impasse, and besides, things had worked out just fine in the end. He would take whatever punishment Qui-Gon saw fit, his Master would eventually calm down and things would settle back to where they had been.

So why are you so afraid to go inside?

He closed his eyes and tried once more to center himself. Oh, he knew the answer to that one easily enough...it beat at him with every pulse of the barely leashed emotions trickling across their newly revived bond.

Because Qui-Gon was very, very angry.

He wasn't really afraid of Qui-Gon...at least not physically. His Master had never struck him, had in fact rarely even raised his voice. But he found he was afraid of losing Qui-Gon's faith in him, his trust, his...love.

There was no hope for it. Standing outside in this blessed wind was certainly getting him nowhere and in spite of all else, he desperately wanted the comfort and security of being held in his Master's strong arms. If only for a brief moment. He could take what followed, whatever it was.

And all unbidden, the needy, dependent part of himself he usually kept ruthlessly repressed added slyly, And at least he will be focussed on you alone...for just a little while.

Obi-Wan chided himself for his mental fancies, firmed up his shields, attempted to put at least a minimal expression of contriteness on his face and keyed open the door.

He stopped just inside the portal, letting his eyes adjust to the unexpected darkness of the room, and was surprised to find Master Windu in their quarters with his Master. The burly Councillor stood facing away from Obi-Wan with a determined set to his broad shoulders. Qui-Gon's gaze was locked onto Master Windu, and as Obi-Wan watched, his Master abruptly threw back his head in a mannerism that Obi-Wan recognized as one of surprised disbelief combined with stubborn refusal.

Master Windu straightened his own spine in response, and Obi-Wan looked from one to the other with a puzzled expression as the two Masters glared at one other without either speaking.

Master Windu finally broke the acrid silence in the room. "Would the alternative be any easier to bear, Qui?"

Another long silence. "No, it would not," came his Master's eventual resigned reply. Qui-Gon then turned his full attention to Obi- Wan and in spite of himself, Obi-Wan flinched and bowed his head under that scalding, eviscerating stare. He mentally braced himself as he felt his Master approach. Qui-Gon stopped uncomfortably close but still remained eerily silent, and Obi-Wan trembled slightly, unable to get any kind of clear information from their disturbed training bond. He finally dared a glance upward through his lashes, managing a whispered, "Master...?"

Qui-Gon moved suddenly with the staggering speed that never ceased to astound Obi-Wan, and he was pulled firmly into an almost desperate embrace, the big Jedi's arms lifting him nearly off his feet in an apparent need to have his apprentice yet closer. Qui-Gon merely held him and murmured his name over and over, and Obi-Wan eventually relaxed in his Master's grip, feeling as always safe and treasured in his comforting presence.

Obi-Wan's pulse gradually calmed from its previous agitated level as his anxieties dissipated. He had obviously been worried about nothing -- his Master still cared for him. Maybe he should be taking more to heart Qui-Gon's admonishments about living in the Moment. He would not have delayed so long in returning to his Master if he hadn't been so concerned about his response. And all for nothing, it appeared.

Qui-Gon eventually released him and set him back on his feet, keeping both his large hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders. Obi-Wan smiled up at him and opened his mouth to begin the prepared speech he had rehearsed a hundred times over during this interminable day. Those words remained unuttered, however, as he saw that his Master was looking not at him, but over his head at Master Windu. As he watched, he saw all the warmth and caring slowly drain from his Master's face like water down a culvert. Obi-Wan watched in growing abject horror as that most beloved face gradually assumed the impersonal, almost frightening mask he wore only during the most difficult of their missions, those missions in which he was forced to pass judgement on a decision in which there was no correct answer.

Qui-Gon released him and looked down then, still without speaking. Eyes wide and not daring to intrude on Qui-Gon's silence, Obi-Wan sent a brief panicked query across their bond, not understanding what was happening but totally unnerved at the sense of impending distress his immediate future sense was warning him of. His query not only went unanswered, it was almost...ignored, and he felt Qui-Gon shutting down against him, not breaking the bond but merely shoring up his walls high enough that no mere Padawan could possibly break through them.

Shocked now into total immobility, Obi-Wan stumbled and nearly fell when his Master harshly grabbed his upper arm and started to pull him towards the center of the room. Off balance both physically and mentally, he pulled back futilely against the bruising grip, trying to slow their forward progress just long enough to get his wits about him. Qui-Gon spun furiously around and pulled him closer so that their bodies were almost touching, glaring down at him with burning eyes that dared Obi-Wan to disobey him in this. Unable to meet those blistering eyes without being able to touch his mind, Obi-Wan ducked his head in immediate submission, sensing somehow that any resistance on his part now would be disastrous.

Qui-Gon nodded shortly and dragged him to the center of the common room, turning him to face Master Windu who stood also at solemn attention with no word of comfort or advice to the distressed Padawan. Qui-Gon moved behind him then and perfunctorily removed the binding from his Knight tail, patting the longer portion of hair into place with a motion that could in no way be construed as comforting. Obi-Wan stood stock still and shivered, locking eyes with Master Windu in an effort to understand what was taking place here.

Only then did his Master speak, words which somehow failed to process properly in Obi-Wan's chaotically churning mind.

"It is now, as in times ancient past, the responsibility of the Master to instruct and guide the Learner."

"So it has been, and so it shall be," replied Master Windu formally.

Qui-Gon reached over Obi-Wan's shoulder and undid the Padawan braid from the clip which held it in place. "As it is the Master's task to teach, it is the responsibility of the Learner to obey his Master."

"So it has been, and so it shall be," repeated Master Windu.

Qui-Gon pulled the slim braid taut and began to unwind it from its fastenings, his big hands as deft and sure in this unbraiding as they had in countless sessions of assisting his Padawan in braiding it. As he worked, he continued, his words as colorless and comfortless as the searing wind outside their silent haven. "When such time comes as the Master can no longer rely on the obedience of the Learner, the bond must be examined."

"By the will of the Force and for the good of the Order," came the stern reply.

Qui-Gon finished his task and used Force to straighten the long lock of hair so that it lay straight and true and pure down Obi-Wan's heaving chest. "By precedent and by tradition, it is often necessary that the Council be called upon to determine Fault and undertake Correction."

"By the will of the Force and for the good of the Order," Master Windu replied and held out a steady hand. With this, Qui-Gon firmly pushed Obi-Wan the few steps remaining to reach Mace Windu and continued in that same deadly monotone, "I hereby relinquish the title of Master to this boy and give unto the Council...the Padawan Learner Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Obi-Wan didn't feel Master Windu's hands as he stumbled and was caught in a sure, firm grip. He didn't feel much of anything other than the cold, barren void in the center of his being. He was sure he would have felt pain if he had been able -- in fact, there was something frighteningly similar to pain out there, somewhere, just beyond the icy shutdown of a mind that could not even contemplate its own misery. But it was thawing...gradually, inexorably, as the oh-so-formal words finally congealed into conscious meaning.

Obi-Wan clenched his fist into Master Windu's tunic, pressed his face against a broad shoulder and tried with some success to stifle the incipient cry that was trying to tear itself out of his chest. He felt Master Windu wrap his arms tightly around him, the motion obviously intended to be comforting, but it only brought forth with new impact that the arms around him were not his Master's. His chest tightened like a vise in his despondency, but he was too empty to scream, too petrified inside to even cry.

After a long while, Obi-Wan forced himself away from Master Windu, turned in his grasp and raised beseeching eyes towards his Master, his former Master. He could only feel the barest whispering echoes through their training bond now.

His Master stood across the suddenly cavernous room, facing them, with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning almost casually against the far wall. He watched Obi-Wan as one would an exhibit in a museum, with some little interest in its uniqueness but of no immediate concern to his present state of affairs. This callousness, this seeming indifference finally managed to break through the final protective block of deadness inside him where mere words could not, and Obi-Wan lunged forward in an effort..in his need...to return to him.

Master Windu instantly stopped that forward motion with firm but gentle arms around his chest and waist. "Master!" Obi-Wan called out piteously. "Master, please..." Obi-Wan broke off his strangled words when Qui-Gon merely turned his back to look calmly out into the gathering darkness outside. In desperation, Obi-Wan started to struggle then, intending to throw himself on his knees before Qui-Gon and beg him to take him back. He must take him back.

The big Councillor held him easily, without seeming to put forth any effort whatsoever, and simply talked soothingly to him until he eventually calmed, too drained and exhausted to fight anymore. The tears fell then in an endless, aching procession, clouding his vision even as his eyes lingered stubbornly on the one being whom he now knew meant more to him than any other. This man calmly stood with his back towards him now, his shields raised to their most adamantine, and as Obi-Wan stood and shivered and cried, he found that he finally knew the name of rejection. And it was Misery.

//Oh Force, Mace, I don't think I can go through with this!//

Mace winced at the pain in Qui-Gon's mental voice as he nonetheless gently pulled Obi-Wan backwards towards the large, comfortable chair behind them. He was himself tempted to let Obi-Wan return to his Master -- it was tearing him apart inside as well to feel the distress rolling off in suffocating waves from the sobbing Padawan in his arms. But these two were both stubborn, both alarmingly oblivious, and he was absolutely certain that this same situation would repeat itself as soon as things went back to "normal."

And frankly, he was getting way too old to be putting out fires. Of any kind.

Not to mention what would have happened had he failed in getting the two parties to reach Agreement...

He shuddered. No, it had to be done...and it had to be done tonight, before he lost his nerve. He briefly sent Qui-Gon a mental sending of reassurance and patience and turned his attention to the distraught young man in his arms.

"Obi-Wan," he said softly as he stopped just shy of the chair. "All will be well. In this, I do promise." There was no reply from the young man. "Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan was still staring at Qui-Gon, still lost, still straining slightly forward. Mace gently turned Obi-Wan in his arms. Though the boy did not actively resist the turning, his head stayed swiveled around as long as he could in an effort to keep eye contact with Qui-Gon. Almost as if he were afraid the big Jedi would disappear if he lost sight of him.

Mace gripped Obi-Wan's chin in his hand, tilted his face around and up. "Obi-Wan," he said, not unkindly. "You will be spending some time with me until we can find out what went wrong here and how to undo the damage that has been done." No reply. "Do you understand me, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan looked out through eyes shaded with the white-hot haze of anguish and grief, and replied simply, "Yes, Master."

Master Windu nodded once in reply, and Obi-Wan gasped through his tears as an arm went suddenly under his thighs. He didn't even have time to protest as he was picked up and carried the few remaining steps to an oversized chair behind them. The shadows were much heavier here, almost as if they were ashamed of the well-worn chair abandoned like an unwanted relative in the corner of the oddly shaped chamber. Master Windu sat them both down and held Obi-Wan in his lap, firmly bringing his head to rest against his shoulder.

Obi-Wan struggled again to regain his mental footing...there were too many recent jolts to his system and he seemed unable to make coherent sense out of anything since he'd first walked through the door. There were too many vacillating emotions, too many events out of his control, and he wasn't sure who or what he should cling to in the ensuing storm. At least here, in this position, he could still see Qui-Gon, know that at least his Master had not left the room, not yet...left him.

He was distracted from his hungered gaze by a large hand that brushed an incipient tear from the top of his cheekbone and lingered there. "Obi-Wan," Master Windu said, his soft voice caressing Obi-Wan's left ear, "tell me, in your own words, the events since you landed on this planet." The lingering hand moved slowly down his cheek to grasp his chin and turned his face so that he was forced to break the visual link with his former Master. Master Windu's eyes were soft, his expression kind, as he added, "Leave nothing out, Padawan. I would ask you to speak to me of your motivations, as well."

Obi-Wan nodded as best he could with the big hand still firmly clasped to his chin. This he could understand, this he could do. It was merely a debriefing, as he and his Master had done many times...He swallowed heavily, trying to stifle another sob, struggling to release his negative emotions into the Force as he had been taught.

He began the briefing, his voice firming slightly as he continued to center on Master Windu. The big man watched him intently, focussed on his words, nodding at times and at others stopping him when he asked for clarification. He was never judgmental, never impatient, and he was obviously genuinely interested in what Obi-Wan had to say. This was normal, this was familiar, this was Master Windu.

But the big Jedi's hands...his hands seemed to have their own agenda, and Obi-Wan's breathing increased involuntarily under their ministrations. It was nothing overt, nothing distressing, but they seemed nonetheless to be everywhere. A brief caress across his neck and shoulder as they straightened his lock of unbound braid, a comforting clasp on his bare arm, an encouraging squeeze of his thigh when his narrative faltered.

By the time he stumbled to the end of his briefing, he was trembling, and not entirely from emotion. His skin seemed over- sensitized, energized by the brief touches. He looked up at Master Windu then, confusion glazing his eyes now rather than tears. Master Windu smiled encouraging and took his right hand in both of his. He carded the fingers of his right hand through Obi-Wan's, keeping them from flexing, as he soothingly stroked Obi-Wan's palm with two fingers of his left. "Obi-Wan," he said, almost a whisper now. "Do you know why you offered yourself as Impasse?"

Those blunt fingers were moving in a gentle circular motion now and Obi-Wan shivered at the teasing pressure. "I...I told you, Master..." So slow, those fingers. His whole universe seemed to be narrowing down to the motion of those two digits as they traveled upward slightly to stroke the soft, sensitive skin of his wrist. He was finding it difficult now to concentrate on words, his body seeming to wholeheartedly give into the idea of forgetfulness, oblivion, for at least a little while.

"Obi-Wan?..." Master Windu had moved his mouth until it was almost touching Obi-Wan's ear and he shivered anew as the faintly spoken words tickled the fine, sensitive hairs inside.

"I...felt it...I sought to save the life of Drah'Nor's sister..." There was just the barest sensation of full, soft lips on the tender skin behind his ear...and then it was gone.

"Are you sure, Padawan?" The fingers were moving slowly up his arm now, baring the skin as the loose sleeves of his ceremonial tunic were pushed upwards in their wake. The fingers found an especially sensitive spot in the soft fold of his elbow and Obi-Wan gasped, feeling the first warning tingle in his groin as the fingers moved still slower in their maddening circles.

"S...sure of what, Master?" Obi-Wan watched entranced as those fingers left his arm, crossing through the alternating bands of shadow and deeper shadow dispensed by the serenely obscured lighting in this darkened corner. Those two deliberate digits then traveled across to his chest, still barely touching, this time slowly encircling one nipple in a large, even circle.

The deep, beguiling voice was back in his ear, the lips actually touching Obi-Wan's ear as he said, "Why, sure of your motivation, young one." The fingers continued their journey, never actually touching his nipple, but the soft cloth of his tunic disturbed in their wake kept up a consistent, teasing contact with the small hard nub. Embarrassed, confused and now helplessly aroused, Obi-Wan shyly tried to free himself from Master Windu's grasp, unsure of why the big man was doing this to him.

He was easily restrained, too easily, and he did not know if it were because the big Master used Force or if he himself did not truly wish to be released. There was a soft chuckle in his ear. "You learn fast, little one. A Jedi must always be aware of his true motivations." With that, the slowly moving fingers began to close in on their target, moving in gradually decreasing concentric circles until with uncanny and frustrating accuracy, they circled and danced and teased a mere millimeter from their goal. Obi-Wan gasped in anticipation, arching his back slightly in an attempt to hurry the imminent contact. There was another amused chuckle in his ear, soft lips nuzzled it fondly and thoroughly, and then the fingers retreated back to their previous safe distance.

Obi-Wan gasped aloud in frustration, actually squirming in Master Windu's lap in his indignation. While not exactly a virgin, Obi-Wan's few encounters had been for the most part either hurried or clumsy, and he had never, never been subjected to such an intense, practiced act of seduction before. He wasn't exactly sure he wanted to be the object of this one now. He was sure of very little anymore with his world continually being turned upside down. He desperately needed time to regain his fractured equilibrium, but the events of this evening had left him as yet no such opportunity.

As Master Windu benignly restrained him yet again, Obi-Wan chanced to look up...and met the eyes of Qui-Gon Jinn, or at least the man who wore his visage. There was little of his gentle, compassionate Master in that face...in those that eyes that burned him even across the expanse of empty room. There was nothing of indifference now either, nothing of casual disinterest...only an enduring hunger that froze Obi-Wan in his place. He and Master Windu were deep in shadow, he was fully clothed, yet somehow Obi-Wan had never felt more naked and helpless in his life as he did in that one soul-consuming, timeless moment.

As Obi-Wan sat frozen in the grip of Qui-Gon's gaze, the second of Cerlon's moons rose, bright and sprightly Erebus, and its red-gold luminescence passed obliquely down through a discrete skylight to glide like a dancer across Obi-Wan's shoulder and down to his chest. Qui-Gon's burning eyes dropped from Obi-Wan's face to follow that glimmering light, and then Obi-Wan felt again the gentle hands of Master Windu, those active, nimble hands, and this time they were deftly opening the fastenings of his lightweight tunic. The dark hands drifted down, so very slowly, following the moonlight's path, exposing an expanse of Obi- Wan's smoothly muscled chest to the light from that tiny moon as if in a display for it alone. Shadow to light and back to shadow as the moon left behind the tiny skylight as well as the tableau of immobilized Padawan and the white-tan flesh of Obi-Wan's now fully exposed chest. The sheltering shadows closed in again and Obi-Wan let out the strangled breath he had unknowingly been holding. It sounded more like a gasp...and it was mirrored by a deep, anguished, centering breath from the big man across the room.

"Do you begin to understand, young Padawan?" came the voice of Master Windu from the darkness. The words were followed by brief, moist flicks from an active tongue as it tasted and explored and treasured the exquisite softness of ear, neck and throat. "Tell me again why you offered yourself as Impasse."

But Obi-Wan found he could not speak, could not move, trapped as he was between the physical boundaries of Master Windu's grasp and the visual ones of his former Master's gaze. He was pushed slightly forward away from Master Windu's chest, and two callused thumbs gently and with agonizing slowness pulled the light cloth of his tunic down, lingering first on the junctures of shoulder and neck until the soft lips and teeth could meet them there. They mingled together in joyful celebration, licking and nipping and stroking those tender places until Obi-Wan moaned aloud in helpless rapport with their continued onslaught.

The thumbs left then to continue their self-imposed task of sliding the soft, restrictive fabric down Obi-Wan's arms, glorying in their journey, heedless this time of the lack of escorting light, merely intent on the fulfillment of a duty that was their utmost pleasure to fill. So tender they were, so delicate and light on the sensitive, sweat-dampened skin of upper arms, the trembling forearms and endearingly narrow wrists. The dark thumbs lingered again on the much smaller fingers, stroking patiently until those fingers released their death grip on the arms of the chair and allowed the thin, concealing fabric to be at last removed completely from his body.

Only then did Mace pull the now unresisting Obi-Wan back against his broad chest, deeper into the concealing darkness. Master Windu spread his broad palm across Obi-Wan's sternum and then began to trace the interlocking patterns of shadow and light that fell like a map across Obi-Wan's torso. Up to a prominent collarbone, tracing its outline with whispering touches and then ghosting down to his stomach, circling more slowly there with the fingertips sliding just barely beneath the waistband of his loose leggings, seeming to delight in the heaving motion of the trembling muscles. Obi-Wan thrust his hips in abject invitation, whimpering, but the fingers had already left to follow a particularly inviting path to a proudly erect nipple.

The fingers halted again in their forward progress, not asking for permission but demanding compliance, and Obi-Wan gasped a whispered, "Please...oh, please..." Master Windu seemed to hesitate as he gauged the depths of Obi-Wan's submission, examining Obi-Wan's passion-dark eyes as they fastened like limpets onto the progress of those delicately stroking fingers. Just before those tortuous fingers could graze the areola of a rock-hard nub, a deeper shadow fell over them and the digits paused again in their procession. "Nooo..." protested Obi-Wan, and he threw his head back in despair, fighting back a scream of frustration and need. At Master Windu's continued stillness, Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes to find that Qui-Gon had approached the chair and stood silent and focussed a few paces away, his face shrouded in the shadows, but his posture ramrod straight and his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

There was another heavy silence, which even the ever-present wind seemed loathe to break, and Obi-Wan found himself holding his own breath in counterpoint. If one could actually feel silence, it would feel like this, he decided...both stifling and electric, redolent yet threatening, like the thick summer air just before a cataclysmic thunderstorm.

He felt Master Windu tilt his head slightly, his fingers still frozen in place on Obi-Wan's chest. He could feel no tension in that hand, no sense of wariness coming from the big man holding him with such proprietary closeness. Obi-Wan was both perplexed and amazed, because even he could feel the waves of menace and possessiveness that radiated from the tall figure before them, the raw taste of violence barely curbed. With that came the knowledge that he didn't know Qui-Gon at all, that he had all along loved and admired the surface of a wondrous, calm sea and never seen the equal parts danger and splendor in the bottomless depths below.

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to squirm under the continued light pressure of Master Windu's hand and Qui-Gon's daunting presence, his breathing labored and his cock still uncomprehendingly stiff and eager between his legs.

There was a sudden amused snort from Master Windu and he said, "You will do no such thing, Qui, and both you and I know it." Obi-Wan could feel the Master's gentle smile as he pressed his face against Obi-Wan's temple in an overt demonstration of that knowledge. "It would take you years to break in someone new on the Council, and we both know you have better things to do."

"I will honor the Rite of Relinquishment, Mace." Obi-Wan actually started at the sound of his Master's voice, so deep and ponderous and rusty as if it had not been used in decades. "I shall not touch him. But see to it that you do not go too far, my friend."

Another soft chuckle, and the fingers once again began their slow, purposeful dance around Obi-Wan's nipple. "The quest for true purpose sometimes lies down a path not readily...or comfortably...seen."

Lower yet, that somber voice. "And sometimes those paths are best not tread at all, for the risks one dares when walking them."

Master Windu once again fondly nuzzled Obi-Wan's ear and said, "Ah, but the rewards, Qui..." and he suddenly flicked Obi-Wan's neglected nipple with one fingertip. Obi-Wan screamed as he felt the pleasurable jolt clear down to his groin, arching violently in response, and Master Windu took that opportunity to bring them both up out of the chair. Obi-Wan gasped and swayed, and Master Windu caught him in amused forbearance when he would have fallen.

Smoothing Obi-Wan's sweat-slickened hair, Master Windu held him tightly until he regained some use of his trembling legs and then walked them calmly and surely past Qui-Gon to the center of the living quarters. Stopping between two graceful, decorative pillars a little more than arm's length apart, he pulled Obi-Wan between them and then stretched first one arm and then the other up over his head, wrapping Obi- Wan's fingers around the pillars and patting them gently in an obvious command to remain there.

Master Windu turned from him, walking out of Obi-Wan's line of sight, and shortly thereafter the already dimmed lighting faded to blackness. No, not total darkness, for as his eyes adjusted Obi-Wan found he could still see well enough. Too well, for his current frame of mind. The multitude of elegant skylights that Obi-Wan had previously thought were mere decoration revealed their true purpose with this retreat of the harsh artificial light. With graceful contours and impossible angles, they ingeniously took advantage of the bright and numerous moons this lonely world was graced with and focussed them into a quite respectable lighting source. On a cloudless night, he was certain the effect would be quite different, but this night, this night of fate and circumstance, the passing expanses of windswept clouds wove the remaining moonslight into a tapestry of multicolored, softly tinted light and migrating shadows, changing constantly with the motion of moons and clouds.

The gently dancing light disoriented him further, and as Obi-Wan stood between the two pillars, he clenched his hands tighter in a simple effort to remain upright. He was tired, Force, but he was tired, the physical and emotional demands of this day overwhelming. He closed his eyes and tried once more to center, to make sense of the nonsensical, but the constant aching pressure in his groin distracted him even more than his mental turmoil. He fought back a sudden overpowering wave of frustration and despair.

He felt the motion without needing to reopen his eyes, so strained to the utmost were all his senses...a warm presence, soothing his distress, a light caress down his bare flank, somehow both calming and arousing. "I promised you, young one. All will be well." The taller form of Master Windu was pressed lightly behind him, the hands now roaming sweetly up and down chest and belly, the textured feel of Force usage pinning his wrist when he all unknowingly attempted movement of one hand off a pillar in reaction to the soft nuzzling of the tender nape of his neck.

Confusion and panic reared in him then, pooling into helplessness in his stomach, and Obi-Wan opened his eyes, instinctively searching out the presence he ultimately turned to in times of need and distress. He gasped and unconsciously pressed back closer into Master Windu when he discovered that his former Master was standing directly in front of him...and Obi-Wan had never even sensed his approach. Qui-Gon had one overlarge hand wrapped in a stranglehold on the pillar above his left hand, hard enough that the brief passing of a band of white-gold light illuminated the tendons stretched to bulging cords in the powerfully muscled arm. His face was in shadow, but as his Master leaned ever so slightly forward, he heard the labored breathing, felt the soft puffs of his exhalations that cooled the dampened spots left by Master Windu's laving tongue.

Obi-Wan shivered and moaned, hopelessly adrift, not sure where this was leading, not sure where he wanted it to lead. He stared fixedly at a spot on Qui-Gon's chest, unable or unwilling to meet his eyes, shadowed though they might be. The tender lips and darting tongue of Master Windu never slowed in their seeming quest for conquest of every patch of his exposed skin, and when the fluttering hands moved purposely to the waistband of his leggings, Obi-Wan's nerve finally broke and he darted around and away from the impossible situation and overpowering sensations.

He was stopped this time not by Force application, but by the sudden presence of Qui-Gon's body superimposed again in front of his, large and looming and commanding. Qui-Gon still would not speak, made no move to restrain him physically, but even with no verbal cues or the benefit of their mental link, Obi-Wan submitted instinctively to the silent directive. He stepped backwards once again between the pillars, shivering, staring numbly at his feet and hugging his arms around his naked chest protectively.

A narrow opening directly above him chose that moment to spill onto Obi-Wan the indigo blue light of the largest and slowest of Cerlon's moons. The cone of light was narrow, focussed, discrete, and Obi-Wan found it made a comforting limit to the strangeness engulfing him. He cast his eyes only to the borders of that comforting blue radiance and chose not to dwell on the mad depths of the world outside of it. Obi-Wan stood, shaking, inconsolable, and he watched with something approaching dread as a darker band of midnight shadow crept slowly across his haven of light. The powerful arm corresponding to the shadow again gripped the pillar above him, and Obi-Wan shook his head desperately in negation of the shadow's implied command.

A smooth, chiding voice whispered in his ear, "You must learn obedience, Padawan," and when Obi-Wan could only shake his head again in feeble denial, the gentle yet firm hands of Master Windu reached around his chest, grasped the tremulous hands and pulled them up once again to grasp the pillars beside him.

As soon as Master Windu's hands left his, Obi-Wan began to pull away again, not at all ready for what he knew must lie ahead. He was too slow, however, far too slow, the numbness of his thoughts seeming to have transferred to his limbs. Before he could move his hands from the pillar, almost before the command had passed from his brain to his muscles, Obi-Wan froze again as the shadow of his former Master coalesced into solid, undeniable presence. The big man stepped forward towards him and stopped so close that he could feel the rough weave of his Master's tunic against his naked chest. The blazing blue eyes that matched the hue from the hovering moonlight latched onto Obi-Wan's and held him there as if physically restrained. Obi-Wan could not see Qui-Gon's other hand move to grasp the opposite pillar, so close was the big Jedi's body to his, but he heard the shifting of fabric in the consuming silence, felt the trail of a sleeve as it brushed his trembling hand. His former Master still did not speak and Obi-Wan pleaded soundlessly with his eyes, hoping to see some softening of that forbidding gaze, some relaxation in the tight, intimidating features.

There was no such relenting, only the fleeting sense of clipped words brushing tenuously through the blocked training bond, Keep them there, and then nothing except the hollow, echoing silence once more. Obi-Wan cried out aloud then, in loss, in fear, in desperation, in anger at himself for remaining so embarrassingly aroused through an ordeal not of his choosing.

Master Windu's petting hands returned, unpitying, inexorable, making small circles on the hollow of his low back, moving down to caress his buttocks through the shockingly thin material of his leggings. In the continued stultifying silence, he heard the whisper of fabric against the smooth skin of his buttocks, felt the gooseflesh arise with the firm yet teasing pressure, smelled the heavy musky scent of male arousal. Obi-Wan stared fixedly at the broad chest of his former Master, the imposing form standing so still, so silent, so heart-wrenchingly close. He did not know how long the gentle circles on his buttocks continued before he involuntarily pressed backward into them, but as soon as he did, the hands disappeared. He cried out again, twisting his head far around as possible without moving his hands.

The dark man had almost disappeared in the gloom outside Obi-Wan's moonlit column of luminous blue, but Obi-Wan could glimpse the flash of white as Master Windu chuckled fondly. "Patience is a gift that comes with experience, young one." The hands returned then as they skinned lightly down his thighs, pausing to tease the virgin flesh of his trembling inner thighs. Another chuckle as Obi-Wan thrust forward involuntarily. "There are merely some ways to gain that experience that are more enjoyable than others."

The hands moved down, down, one hand stopping to rest on the back of his left knee, the other undoing the fastenings of the light boots that Obi-Wan wore. Obi-Wan stubbornly resisted the light pressure instructing him to lift the foot, planting himself instead more firmly on the floor. There immediately followed a light stroke on the back of his knee, and as Obi-Wan instinctively flexed the knee to escape the maddening tickling sensation, Master Windu deftly removed the boot and sock and captured the bare foot in his hand. He slowly and deliberately wrapped an arm around the leg to immobilize it, then mercilessly tickled the sensitive sole until Obi-Wan was writhing helplessly against him. Caught between the extremes of hysterics and tears, Obi-Wan could only sob in relief when the embattled foot was released at last. Boneless, held up only by his death grip on the smooth marble of the pillars, he made no resistance to the removal of the other boot.

Master Windu petted him briefly on the calf and arose then, once again putting his arms around him from behind as he whispered, "Very good, little one." The tongue played again over the soft folds of ear and nape, the sharp teeth nipping and biting.

Obi-Wan threw his head back, in frustration or to allow better access, he was no longer certain. He stared up into the face of his former Master, and Obi-Wan watched entranced as Qui-Gon's hand made a slow passage towards Obi-Wan's face, out of the darkness and into the band of ghostly blue light that still bathed Obi-Wan's form. The hand stopped just millimeters shy of Obi-Wan's sweat-drenched skin and Obi-Wan strained forward in an effort to meet it, knowing even as he felt the moist flicks of Master Windu's tongue and his knowledgeable, inflaming caresses, that it was this hand that he wanted so desperately to touch him, those full lips and soft beard that he needed to feel upon him. The knowledge that he wanted this, needed this came with such force that he again moaned aloud, the rush arrowing straight to his groin and numbing his brain with implications.

Qui-Gon's hand pulled back with obvious reluctance and Obi-Wan softly cried, "No, please," and would have followed the hand had not Master Windu's arm stopped his forward progress. "You are to stay with me, little Obi-Wan. You are not quite ready...yet." With that, Master Windu grasped the waistband of Obi-Wan's leggings and slowly, infinitesimally slowly, began to drift the soft fabric down his hips.

Obi-Wan whimpered at the teasing motion, gyrating his hips in a futile attempt to speed the process. He was adrift, and far too far gone to resist any longer. He looked up into Qui-Gon's face, whispering a husky, "Please..." to the immobile form standing so rigid and austere in front of him.

To Obi-Wan's complete and utter surprise, Qui-Gon spoke then, in the deepest, most lustrous voice that he had ever heard from his Master. Obi-Wan found himself focussing on that voice as he did from time to time when a mission began to go very wrong, latching on to the richness and the velvet that never seemed to waver even when severely stressed. This night, however, already tortuously aroused, Obi-Wan found he was responding at a new level to that voice, a depth that went beyond attentiveness, beyond respect, beyond affection into a realm that spoke to something deeper inside him than he had ever known. The teasing hands remained on his skin, the ever-changing play of light remained to his eyes, but it was that voice that he found himself centering on, that voice he responded to like no other stimulus, and that voice which became quite suddenly his entire world...

"You are beautiful, my little one. Do you know that? I wish I were the one to touch you so...I were the one to make you tremble and moan. I have been blind for so long, not to see what a sensual creature you are. Mace is talented though, is he not?

"If you could see yourself, Obi-Wan, with your arms stretched above you, the way your skin glistens, the softness of blue on blue shadows as you writhe in the glow of this worshiping moon. There is a little rivulet of sweat that is traveling down your chest, blocked in its passage by your swollen nipple. What would you taste like there, I wonder? The pertness of nipple and the saltiness of sweat. It would take me some time to make that determination, I fear, some time to lick and taste and suck until I could be sure.

"There, there, my Obi-Wan, surely you have learned by now that your struggling will only make Mace go slower? I know, you are so hard, so needy, I can see the tip of your swollen length as it struggles to free itself from its restriction. You feel you must move, let the exquisite softness of the constricting fabric stroke against you where Mace will not, give you the friction you are craving so badly...but Mace is right in your need to learn patience.

"See how he rewards you for your stillness? Another two centimeters and the head of your cock is free now. It is truly mesmerizing, you know, to watch Mace's thumbs as they pause to stroke the tender skin above your hip bones, worship the trembling muscles of your belly. He knows just the right pressure to sensitize the skin so that the softest breath of air would cause you to tremble. This I know from experience.

"Here, let me show you.

"Your moans are so arousing, Obi-Wan. I fear I could drown in them. As I kneel here, so close to you and smell your scent, I wonder, would it be such a dreadful thing to do more than just breathe gently on your straining belly? Would I be violating the Code, with your cock weeping so much, so piteously, to bend a touch nearer and merely taste you with my tongue?

"No, no, Obi-Wan, you must remain still, though you are tantalizingly beautiful with your back arched so, your head thrown back and the soft strands of your unbound braid caressing your chest. Do you realize how you offer yourself to me like this, with your hips pressed forward and your inflamed cock begging to be released? To be touched and licked?

"Do not glare at me, Mace. I promised you I would not interfere, and I shall not touch him. But it will do none of us any good if you kill the boy with your too patient...ministrations.

"There. Be easy, little one. You will hyperventilate if you are not careful. Breathe deep and hold, as I have taught you. Yes, very good...

"I think you can resume now, Mace. Yes, he is very responsive. Almost too responsive. You had best finish removing his clothing, or he will find release himself with how he is writhing so.

"Yes, I agree. That would be a shame, and would be too soon.

"Much too soon.

"That's better. See, he has stopped struggling now that he has nothing left to rub against. However...I think it best that you Force-bind his hands now.

"Relax, relax, it is all right. Just listen to my voice, Obi-Wan. This will not hurt you, little one. We will not hurt you. You must relax...

"Let me get behind him, Mace. I do not want him to accidentally injure himself.

"Yes, good, Obi-Wan. See, the binding will help you. You can release some of your weight now into your arms, and it has been a very long and busy day for you, hasn't it, little one? But I believe you are beginning to see that obedience has its own rewards.

"Now, I want you to move your feet further apart, Obi-Wan. Mace will not be able to touch you properly with your legs pressed so tightly together. Surely you can do this for me? Yes, I know it makes you feel vulnerable. I can see it with the way you duck your head so endearingly and hide those marvelous eyes behind quivering lashes. Just a little further, Obi-Wan. Yes. Now, you must keep them there, Obi-Wan, or Mace will have to bind them also.

"Oh, you are so exquisite, so shy. Poor little one, how you are trembling. It will be all right. Mace will make it better soon. How hard you are, jutting up straight and proud over your belly. Now that you are naked, Mace can reach you better, the hard muscles of your legs, the creamy softness of your inner thighs.

"Yes, you must linger there. A little higher. Slower, Mace, he is sensitive here.

"Just listen to the sounds you make, Obi-Wan, as Mace strokes your satiny skin, closer and closer to your tender, tight balls. He is moving so slowly now. Can you feel him, Obi-Wan? You cannot see him with your eyes so tightly shut, your head thrown back. Surely you can feel him, though. He is so close now, close enough to where he must be tickling the tiny, sensitive hairs on your sacs, just as my breath is stirring so softly against your nape.

"No, Obi-Wan. You may not move. See, he will merely stop touching you until you cease struggling. It's all right, little one. Do not cry. You merely have to calm yourself, and obey.

"I know, you are so hard, so ready, but Mace will not touch you, will he? Yet you are so close that you are sure just one touch, one lick, will allow you the release you require. Do you wish you could touch yourself now, Obi-Wan? Grasp your length in your callused hand or merely even run your cupped palm over your head? No, you would come far too soon, but someday...someday I would like to watch you do this, only tell you where you could place your fingers, how long and where you could stroke yourself.

"And you would have to yield to me.

"Someday, Obi-Wan.

"Mace has such sensual, knowing hands, doesn't he, young one? His hands are warm and tender as they caress your rounded buttocks, teasing at just the barest edges of your cleft, then dancing away again as you move into his touch. Such the little wanton you are, writhing and moaning. Surely you must know by now that he will not allow you to control his movements.

"He has such soft lips and an active, darting tongue also. You keep your eyes so tightly shut, Obi-Wan. I wish you could see, as well as feel, as they move across your belly in their own dance just as his hands continue to work your buttocks and thighs. The quick nips and random flicks of tongue are slowing now as they approach your weeping, straining shaft. His tongue is still working the tight muscles of your belly now, but in measured, slow, precise licks. You should see how he is laving your stomach, outlining your penis but not touching it, and how the indigo blue moonlight reflects off the moistened trail.

"Mace has paused now, lapping up the moisture you've leaked onto your stomach. So close he is to that satin tip, little one, so very close. Licking and tasting. Can you feel him?

"Please what, Obi-Wan? Do you want him to stop?

"No? Then, you...must...not...move.

"It will be difficult for you, I know of your inexperience in these matters, but you must obey me in this or Mace will not allow your release. You do want to come, don't you, little one?

"I thought so.

"Ahhh, that caused your eyes to fly open, did it? Mace has very fine control of the Force, much finer than mine. The Force allows movement without giving you the benefit of touch. He's not ready to touch you there, not yet. See how it reaches out to him, straight and true, and now he can reach all of it when he so desires...the crown, the root, the sensitive underside. It's practically calling him to taste it, isn't it, Obi-Wan?

"No, you may not close your eyes. Watch, little one. Watch as that lush mouth moves nearer. You can feel his breath now, can't you, Obi-Wan? Feel it caressing you. Watch his tongue as he moistens his lips and imagine how it would feel on your shaft. So firm and wet, darting and licking.

"No, Obi-Wan. You must be still.

"Will you allow me to hold his hips, Mace? The boy can be active and determined when he wants to be. Thank you.

"There now, Obi-Wan. I will help you remain still, but you must watch him. He will not touch you until you open your eyes. Good.

"Where will he taste you first? Watch as he approaches the tip of your cock. Perhaps it will be there, watch his tongue, Obi-Wan. A quick dart in the slit, do you think? It's so very close now, you can probably feel its heat on your skin. No, do not try to strain forward. You must allow him to touch you. Watch his tongue writhe, little one, as if he were testing the contours of the tip before he allows it to make contact with you.

"I know, I know, Obi-Wan. You are doing fine, my precious little one. Can you do it, child? Can you remain still when that tongue laves you?

"You would agree to anything right know, I believe. You are so sure that one touch is all you will need to find release. It will not be that easy, my sheltered one. He will not let you come, I will not let you come, not for some time yet.

"Look down now, Obi-Wan. Watch him...lick you.

"It's all right, little one. You may scream. I told you Mace would not let you come, but it still feels wondrous though, doesn't it? Watch, watch as he licks and strokes your shaft. So fleeting, that tongue. You writhe and twist and squirm as you attempt to make harder contact with that lashing tongue, but he is too quick, moving from a brief taste of the crown to a long, light stroke along the pulsing vein of the underside of your cock. His head bobs and weaves, and you must accept what little contact he gives you. You shamelessly plead for him to take you in his mouth.

"And I...I am shameless, too. For as I hold your hips, I find myself pressing up against your twisting torso, letting your helpless contortions caress my aching groin. Force, you are so beautiful...you look so small and vulnerable, bound and naked while Mace and I remain fully clothed..."

Qui-Gon could tell the exact moment when Obi-Wan came back once more to all of his senses. Obi-Wan's head swiveled around and his eyes lost some of their glazed look as he searched him out. It was if the single additional point of contact of Qui-Gon's groin to Obi-Wan's low spine forced him to center back fully into his body. The look of need in those smoky eyes encouraged him to continue his narrative though. He had always known how the sound of his voice could soothe and calm, and Qui-Gon found he enjoyed the way it could now quite obviously arouse.

"He is fingering your balls now, stroking and rolling them in his hand. So tight and close to your body, they are, but Mace will not allow them to release their fluid. Not yet. Not yet."

Obi-Wan squirmed as Mace's tongue continued its maddening darting motions, and when a questing finger gently caressed the soft skin of his perineum, he screamed in shocked response.

Qui-Gon shuddered. "Do you have any idea how you inflame me with the sounds you make, Obi-Wan? All I can do is pull you tighter against me, reveling in your excitement, for it only increases mine tenfold. I promised I would not interfere, but I cannot be this close to you, hear your soft cries, smell your helpless arousal and not touch you. I simply cannot."

Qui-Gon reached around him then to caress Obi-Wan's neglected nipples, rolling and kneading them between his fingers. Obi-Wan threw his head back on Qui-Gon's shoulder at this new onslaught and stared up helplessly at the light pouring down from the ceiling.

"You like that, don't you, little one?"

Qui-Gon left one hand to alternately tease Obi-Wan's hardened nipples and slid his other down his torso, rubbing a small sensual circle on his vulnerable belly. It quivered and trembled under Qui-Gon's touch, but he was relentless, never quickening the speed or changing the path of his stroking fingers.

"Your eyes are glazed as they look up into mine, with your pupils so wide in arousal that the iris has almost disappeared. You are almost incapable of speech now, your moans and whimpers nearly continuous, but your lips form briefly the word, 'please,' and I am tempted to give in to the silent plea and make Mace finish you."

Obi-Wan writhed again as Mace briefly enveloped just the barest tip of his shaft in his mouth. Qui-Gon threw his own head back at the intense feeling, lost, his resolve firming along with his own cock as Obi- Wan's naked buttocks caressed him through cloth.

Mace paused in his ministrations and looked up at Qui-Gon in fond amusement, but his teasing fingers never ceased in their deft strokings of the tender skin of Obi-Wan's thighs and balls. He made deliberate eye contact with Qui-Gon and then slowly, incessantly lapped the tip of Obi- Wan's cock, over and over, and then chuckled as Obi-Wan's resultant writhing wrenched a moan from Qui-Gon as well.

Mace smiled again at Qui-Gon and then moved down, abandoning Obi-Wan's now glistening cock, and began instead to tongue and suck at his testicles. Qui-Gon kept one hand rolling Obi-Wan's pebbled nipples and moved the other down to run just the tip of one finger up and down his penis, with the lightest of pressure, pausing to swirl the leaking fluid around the tip. This sent Obi-Wan nearly into spasms as he twisted into this new sensation, and Qui-Gon almost lifted him from his feet in an effort to press him closer against his throbbing groin.

Mace moved slowly underneath Obi-Wan's spread legs, nuzzling and licking first the underside of his balls and then gradually the softer skin behind. He pushed Qui-Gon away when he found him blocking his progress, and Qui-Gon reluctantly parted from him, stepping back to watch Mace work. Obi-Wan moaned in denial at the loss of Qui-Gon's hands, but then he screamed and threw his head back as Mace's searching tongue found his hidden center.

Qui-Gon moved around to better see Obi-Wan's expression. "A virgin to male sex I know you to be, Obi-Wan, how, do not ever ask me, but it is a wonder to watch you as you attempt to process the new sensations of tonguing and licking of that most sensitive place." The rapture on Obi-Wan's face drew Qui-Gon nearer, and he bent down to lick and suck at the juncture of neck and shoulder. He kissed Obi-Wan's forehead, his nose, tilted his chin up, but Obi-Wan was oblivious, eyes wide and breathing rapidly, totally focussed on the moist tongue that was mercilessly rimming him.

Obi-Wan suddenly gasped and his hips moved forward involuntarily as Mace stroked his tongue in and out of his anus. Obi-Wan found Qui-Gon's body finally close enough and pressed his groin against Qui-Gon's, at last finding the friction he had been so desperately craving. Qui-Gon gasped aloud but regained enough control to pull away from his apprentice before it was too late, ignoring Obi-Wan's cry of abject frustration.

Mace stood up and moved back around Obi-Wan then, running one hand along his hip as if to calm a fractious horse. He knelt down in front of Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon once again resumed his position behind the beautiful young man outlined with moonlight and darkness.

Obi-Wan was struggling almost mindlessly now, and this time when Mace lowered his head to him, he took Obi-Wan in his mouth without teasing him further. Obi-Wan gasped and froze as if not believing what his own senses were telling him, then he lunged forward desperately in a panic that Mace would change his mind and leave him bereft again. Mace still would not allow the frantic young man to set the pace, however, and he stilled his pistoning hips to prevent their motion.

Mace tongued Obi-Wan, sucking hard and then nipping gently up his length, driving the young man nearly incoherent with need. Qui-Gon was tempted to free himself, press himself into that beckoning cleft of buttocks and give into his own desires, but he could not, would not. From the time he had first grasped Mace's true intentions and relinquished his own anger, he had come to realize that Obi-Wan's future well-being and safety would rely on what happened next. He found it much easier to clear his thoughts and focus with that all-important goal in mind.

Mace released his hold on Obi-Wan's hips, swallowed him full length and began a rapid motion designed to bring him quickly to the edge. It does not take long, does it, little one? thought Qui-Gon fondly as he caressed the young man's ear. Mace stopped as Obi-Wan teetered on the brink, and he withdrew, leaving only the tip of the boy's penis remaining in his mouth.

Qui-Gon leaned down in the brief moment when Obi-Wan was paralyzed in need and surprise and whispered, "I forbid you to move, Padawan."

Obi-Wan flung his head back in shock and distress, knowing he was being tested here, but oh how he ached. He was so close, so very close, all he would need was to thrust inside that wonderfully moist mouth once more. Seemingly sensing his indecision, Master Windu's agile tongue stroked gently across his head and then slowly, interminably slowly, he moved down his penis, keeping a firm even sucking motion as he mercilessly tongued Obi-Wan's shaft. Obi-Wan gasped and trembled as Master Windu reached the root and then just as slowly moved his mouth back up Obi-Wan's cock, increasing the suction until Obi-Wan knew he would surely go insane if he didn't move. Master Windu stopped again with only the tip in his mouth and waited, serenely swirling his tongue over and over on Obi-Wan's crown.

Oh, Force! What could it hurt? One time, only one, and then I will obey my Master forever after that.

He drew a shaking breath in preparation of his thrust forward, but then, like a dam breaking, he experienced a sudden flood of images and perceptions that slammed through his wide open, almost non-existent shields and immobilized his body as his mind attempted futilely to process them. Helpless anger, fear and terror, an uncomprehending grief that paled any such similar emotions that Obi-Wan had ever felt in his own short life. Emotions indeed, but directed at him, for him, because of him, and they were unmistakably, irrepressibly Qui-Gon's. The last one tore like a knife through his brain, because it was the imminent certain knowledge that he was about to lose his Padawan...again, forever, and there was absolutely nothing more he could do to stop it.

NO! Force, no! He had had no idea, no concept of what Qui-Gon had had to endure, and it shamed him to his very core. He straightened his back, his tears falling anew as he stood stock still with new resolve against the still agonizing, teasing motions of Master Windu's mouth. It was nothing when compared against the pain that Qui-Gon had had to bear because of him, but it was all he could do. All he could give in return.

There was a brief mental caress, a sense of approval and relief, and then the deep voice intoned in his ear, "You may come now, Padawan."

Almost before the words could register, Master Windu took his whole length suddenly in his mouth, sucking hard, and a blunt finger pressed inside him to brush firmly against his prostate. Obi-Wan came hard, screaming. He collapsed as the Force-bonds on his wrist were released and was caught by a madly grinning Master Windu, who sat down heavily and pulled Obi-Wan in his lap until the aftershocks were gone.

Master Windu continued to hold him until his trembling slowed and his tears dried and then asked, "Are you well, Padawan?" Master Windu raised an inquisitive eyebrow, and Obi-Wan nodded his head shyly. "Then I will ask you again, why did you offer yourself as Impasse?"

Obi-Wan froze and struggled to search his own feelings, but they were still muddled, incoherent. He looked up to his Master instinctively for guidance, but Qui-Gon was standing once more in shadow, serene, still and once again...utterly, completely unobtainable.

Obi-Wan felt a firm hand pull his chin around and after Master Windu searched his eyes, he nodded once, as if in satisfaction. "I think you begin to understand, Padawan."

When Obi-Wan said nothing more but continued to look up at him with wide, beseeching eyes, Master Windu said, "You became the Impasse because of your Master. You wanted him to see you, fight for you, save you, claim you." Obi-Wan ducked his head in shame and mortification, and Master Windu continued, "It is not as bad as that, young Padawan. Your original goal I believe was to protect the young child, but subconscious desires are also a powerful motivator. I would advise you in future to not allow them to overrule a Master's orders."

"Yes, Master Windu."

"Your actions nearly caused your own death and possibly the deaths of countless others." Stern voice, reproving.

"Yes, Master Windu."

Obi-Wan ducked his head again in acceptance of the rebuke and waited breathlessly on the judgement of the Council. The rarity of cases in which a Padawan had been removed from a Master's care meant that there was very little precedent for what might happen to him, but permanent reassignment of the Padawan was not uncommon...and for far less of an infraction than he had perpetrated. He closed his eyes tightly against another rush of unbidden tears and waited, hoping that his disobedience had not caused him to lose his Master forever.

"Padawan?"

The voice was still cold, still disapproving, and Obi-Wan shuddered, not looking up, afraid of what he would see in the Councillor's eyes. "Yes, Master Windu?"

"This floor is damnably cold and I'm not as young as I used to be. Besides, I believe your Master is waiting for you."

Obi-Wan's head bolted up, and he stared at Master Windu in incredulous disbelief. At seeing Master Windu's warm smile, Obi-Wan impulsively hugged him tightly and then released him to give the startled Councillor a fervent, heart-felt kiss full on the lips.

Qui-Gon Jinn opened his arms wide to receive the incoming blaster bolt that was one Obi-Wan Kenobi and staggered backwards slightly as the young man's full weight hit him. He wrapped long arms around him just as Obi-Wan's legs wrapped around his waist, and he hugged his apprentice tightly to him.

Obi-Wan was crying again in relief and joy, and Qui-Gon merely stroked his back and whispered, "It is all right, Obi-Wan. Everything is fine." Allowing the boy to cry himself out, he merely held him and sent calming reassurances through the bond until the taut body he held began to relax. "You should sleep now, Padawan. It is late."

There was a muffled, "Don't want to," that came from the direction of the face pressed against his shoulder, and he smiled. He released one hand, chuckling at the way Obi-Wan fiercely tightened his grip to avoid being put down and called a robe to him through the Force. He flipped the robe over his naked apprentice's shoulder, draping it snugly around him.

"Is that better, Padawan?" Qui-Gon moved them both to the neglected chair in the shadowed corner where the evening had begun and sank down into it, rearranging a limp Padawan more comfortably on his chest.

"I'm not sleepy," Obi-Wan murmured indistinctly as he snuggled closer to the warmth of his Master's body.

Qui-Gon grasped the loose strands of straying hair and began to gently redo Obi-Wan's braid, the familiar motions lulling Obi-Wan further. As Qui-Gon tied off the end, Obi-Wan lifted his head and raised bleary eyes to meet Qui-Gon's. "Missed you, Master," he said and blinked rapidly, trying to clear them.

Qui-Gon gently pressed the red-gold head back to his shoulder and said softly, "I missed you too, Padawan. Now go to sleep." As Obi-Wan started to lift back up again in protest, Qui-Gon said simply, "I will be here when you wake, young one. Now, go...to...sleep." He was not above reinforcing that order with a gentle Force push. It had been a long day for him as well, and he had had his fill of headstrong Padawan.

He lifted his head at the quiet chuckle coming from across the room. //I thought you said the floor was cold, Mace?// he sent mentally, not willing to disturb the young man in his arms.

//It is, but I'm still in shock. The young man is quite a good kisser, you know.//

//No, I don't know, and you're still in shock? Were you trying to kill us both with that little performance?// Qui-Gon let some of the indignation creep into his mind-voice.

//If I remember correctly, you had at least some participation in that performance, and besides...// Mace's mind-voice took on a higher pitched inflection as he added, //'A lesson learned under duress, better remembered will be.'//

Qui-Gon grunted softly. //I'm not quite sure Yoda had that in mind when he said it,// he sent back dryly. A pause. //Oh, Force, at least I hope not,// he added with some trepidation.

Mace laughed and struggled to his feet. //Well, it worked, didn't it?//

//If you call the fact that I'm now hopelessly lusting after my own Padawan working, yes, then it did. Thank you very much.// He tightened his arms around the young man in question and then smoothed his tousled hair.

Mace sighed aloud and moved closer to the chair, crossing his arms. //At least you got the hopeless part right.//

//What are you talking about?//

Mace threw up his arms in disgust and walked through the still flickering bands of glimmering moonslight to theatrically slam his bald head against a nearby wall.

Qui-Gon winced sympathetically and sent, //Not too hard, Mace. You'll wake Obi-Wan.// Another pause and some slightly less painful-sounding thumping. //I take it I'm missing something here?// he asked dryly.

An especially loud thump from the direction of the abused wall.

//All right, all right. I don't want to have to explain to the Healers just how you got your concussion, Mace. Would you come here...please?//

Mace's ironic mind-voice reached him first. //I told you before, the Healers have come to expect it from Council members. It's a rough job.// He paused thoughtfully as he stopped in front of the chair. //Come to think of it, there does seem to be an epidemic of head injuries after one of your debriefings, Qui.//

//Very funny, Mace. Now would you mind telling me what you're trying to imply?//

Some of the teasing went out of Mace's mind-voice. //Qui, it's been obvious to just about everyone at the temple except you that you've been lusting after your apprentice for quite some time now.//

Qui-Gon's eyes went wide as he pondered Mace's statement. //Mace,// he replied carefully. //We both know it is forbidden for a Master to be involved with his apprentice.// Qui-Gon found himself absently fondling Obi-Wan's braid in his preoccupation and released it as if it had just scalded his fingers.

Mace smiled comfortingly. //That doesn't stop it from happening.//

//I won't lose him, Mace. I refuse to be the cause of losing him.//

The dark-skinned Jedi stared at him until Qui-Gon was forced to glance away, not sure he was ready to face this conversation, but knowing for certain that he was not ready to examine his emotions as far as Obi-Wan was concerned.

Mace did not allow that evasion. //Qui, there's a fine line between stoicism and stupidity, and you're treading dangerously close to it.//

Qui-Gon chose not to respond, merely staring at Mace with a determined expression.

Mace rubbed his weary eyes. //Then I'll say it for you. You're afraid that if you allow yourself to love him, he will be taken away from you?//

//Yes,// Qui-Gon ground out painfully, casting his eyes downward to soak in the sight of his Padawan.

Mace's mind-voice appropriated the comfortless, neutral tone that he used in his official capacity as a Councillor, losing all its customary texture of friendship and gentle humor. //So you've decided all by yourself that you've reached an impasse here, Qui-Gon Jinn?//

Qui-Gon's head snapped up and he furrowed his brows in anger, //Do not ever use that word to me, Mace. Not even joking.//

Mace crossed his arms again and returned the glare, refusing to back down. //I was not joking and this is just as serious. The boy loves you. What happens the next time you distance yourself from him, the next time you lose yourself so deeply in someone else's problem that he all unconsciously feels the need to garner your attention?//

//I...I didn't realize...//

//No, you didn't.//

Qui-Gon pulled a sleepily protesting Obi-Wan tighter to him and rested his chin on his head. //So, what do I do, Mace?//

//Easy. You love him.//

Qui-Gon eyes reflected equal parts hope and confusion, but he finally got out, //The Council...?//

Mace smiled down at him, the smile this time reaching his eyes as they glinted playfully. //I do know someone on the Council, Qui. He could probably fix it for you.//

//But the Code...//

//The Code does not actually forbid it, Qui.// Mace smiled again. //It just...dissuades against it real hard. There are exceptions made, and I feel yours is one of them. Relax, Qui. You need him, he needs you. I just wish I'd interfered sooner, but I really thought you two would be able to work it out on your own...I should have known better from past experience.//

Qui-Gon was still dazed and didn't reply with his usual teasing response in kind. //Thank you, Mace...for everything.// Qui-Gon opened the link wider and allowed the sincere gratitude to impart what mere words could not.

//Anytime. In fact...// Mace's mind-voice trailed off in contemplation.

//What, Mace?//

Mace allowed his grin to widen and raised a playful eyebrow. //Well, if you ever feel the need to give your Padawan another lesson in obedience...?//

He was met by a fierce look of possessiveness that practically seared the air with its intensity. //Forget it, Mace. He's mine now.//

Mace merely laughed out loud, bowed ironically, and left the Master and Apprentice to their fate.

END