Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, but if I did, they'd be in a cage
with those boots on and doing some Go-Go dance, boy! Hot
damn! :-)
Spoilers: For J/A #8 bookcover and possibly plot! Go no further
if you don't want to know nuthin'.
Summary: A wee teeny little bit of sappy fluff inspired by the
Jedi-Apprentice #8 book cover as seen here:
(http://www.jedinet.com/literature/images/ja8.jpg) Nope, I
couldn't resist.
The acrid smell of burnt torches still hung in the air, as gray
wisps of smoke floated limply through the huge, dimly lit
cavern. The oversized projection screen behind the hanging cage
was blank except for the faintest outline of their captor's
face, a gray lit still-life frozen in rage and eternal
frustration.
But then again, Qui-Gon had rarely seen Xanatos look any
different.
Qui-Gon sighed heavily and straightened his back until he heard
a tiny, satisfying pop in his neck. He'd been sitting on
the brutally hard cage floor for a good three hours with his
padawan nestled in tightly between his numb and soon-to-be
aching legs. He experimentally stretched out his left knee and
immediately heard a muted murmur of complaint from beneath the
robe he now shared with his apprentice, whether he'd agreed to
or not.
"Must you move so much, Master? I was almost asleep."
"Forgive me, padawan. Next time we find ourselves like this, I
promise to be a more obedient piece of furniture." Qui-Gon
sighed and slowly stretched out his other leg, ignoring Obi-
Wan's incoherent protest. "Well, we enjoyed quite a show
tonight didn't we, padawan? Or do you think we were supposed to
be the show and failed to entertain our 'hosts' properly?"
Obi-Wan squirmed sleepily against Qui-Gon's chest. "I'm not
sure, but I do know what I enjoyed most about that display was
its sublime subtlety."
A deep rumble of laughter echoed through the empty cavern and
Qui-Gon's arms tightened around his padawan's shoulders. "Well,
Xanatos was never one to miss a melodramatic opportunity." He
pressed a kiss to the top of Obi-Wan's head. "Besides, it's not
often I get to enjoy looking at you by firelight."
Obi-Wan glanced up with a wry expression. "Next time, I say we
just ask for a room with a fireplace if you don't mind." He
sighed and shifted uncomfortably against the metal slats of the
cage. "I don't know what's more annoying. These bars against my
back or against my bottom. I think I'm developing grill marks."
"Such complaining," replied Qui-Gon, smiling softly. "As if you
or I have ever been able to avoid these sorts of 'interesting'
situations."
"Well, the next I say 'Master, I have a bad feeling about this'
would it hurt you that much to listen to me?"
"If I listened every time you said that, we'd never get
anything done, my padawan."
Obi-Wan made a small disparaging sound and snuggled in closer,
snaking his arms around Qui-Gon's waist. "I'm glad you still
have your robe," he yawned, as he burrowed beneath the warm
brown cloth. "Next time I won't ditch mine so quickly."
"That should improve our wardrobe budget considerably," said
Qui-Gon drily. He rubbed his cheek lightly against Obi-Wan's
hair. "I'll admit I'm not very happy about this. It was getting
a bit nerve-wracking in the moments before Xanatos decided to
call it a night."
Obi-Wan nodded. "That was odd. I wonder why he called off the
mob so quickly. Didn't we look nervous enough?"
Qui-Gon shrugged. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I didn't look angry
enough. Or maybe my crime was that I refused to care more about
Xanatos' rage than your well-being." Sadly. "All of this is
such ancient history now and by the Force I wish he'd leave you
out of it and deal with me alone."
"I don't," replied Obi-Wan fiercely, tightening his embrace.
"If he's going to play these games then I want to be right
there alongside of you." He looked up at Qui-Gon, his eyes
blazing. "That's my place, Master and I don't ever want you to
try and protect me from him or anyone else. We're a team,
remember?"
"Yes, padawan, I remember." Qui-Gon smiled affectionately at
him. "Together in all things it seems. Even in the same robe."
Obi-Wan grinned mischievously. "Now, Master, think of it as a
conservation effort. Making the most of items at hand. Besides,
I remember you saying ..."
"Sleep, padawan." Qui-Gon grumbled with the slightest hint of a
threat. "Before I put you under myself."
"Hmmph. You never want to hear your own lessons do you?"
"No, because I've already heard them and backwards at that. I'm
sure you recall Master Yoda's disdain for Standard sentence
structure."
"Ah, yes. Listened to him for many years I did. Often confused
I was."
"Very funny, padawan. Now sleep." Another kiss, this one very
gentle against Obi-Wan's forehead. "I want you to conserve your
strength in both body and spirit. Remember, we don't know what
the morning will bring."
"Doesn't matter," Obi-Wan murmured quietly, his voice already
thick with drowsiness. "We're together. That's all I care
about. Everything else is just sound and fury and far, far
beneath us."
Qui-Gon didn't reply but rested his head atop Obi-Wan's,
listening as his padawan's breathing grew light and steady. He
watched as a lone torch slowly burned lower, then faded to an
ember, casting a single, dull ray of light on the opposite
wall.
The morning did seem an unwelcome inevitability, but, Obi-Wan
was right. Whatever happened was far, far beneath them, both
literally and figuratively -- especially since they were
together.
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