But I think That you're wild
Inside me is some child
You might think it's foolish
But baby it's untrue
You might think I'm crazy
All I want is you.
Obi-Wan sits and watches his master go through practice feints
with his lightsaber. The padawan should be studying, but the
datapad dangles from his fingers, quite forgotten. Qui-Gon
maneuvers his large frame elegantly, parrying invisible foes
and whirling again so fast that the saber is a mere wash of
green light sluicing through the air, trailing fire in the
waltz. He is deadly and beautiful and so caught up in his kata
that Obi-Wan doesn't need to shield the thoughts, eyes a dreamy
clouded blue as he watches his master dance with death as if
only for him.
You might think it's hysterical
But I know when you're weak
You think you're in the movies
Everything's so deep.
But I think that you're wild
When you flash that fragile smile...
"Master, if the council thinks-"
"Obi-Wan, it's time you learned that the council has an opinion
on everything from galactic politics to the proper radius of
one's navel, and they don't EXPECT us to follow EVERYTHING."
"But if they believe that there may be a danger in-"
Qui-Gon whirls in mid step, abruptly pressing a kiss to his
padawan's lips. "Obi-Wan, I value your words. Now hush."
Obi-Wan raises stunned fingers to his mouth, his gaze startled
as his master turns and stalks off as if he kissed apprentices
in the middle of the temple every day of the week. The smile is
hesitant, broadening when Qui-Gon slows his stride just a bit
and tilts his head enough to let his padawan know he's waiting.
Obi-Wan hurries to catch up.
You might think it's foolish
What you put me through
You might think I'm crazy
But all I want is you.
Stripped to the waist, tied hand and foot, two Jedi are
suspended by their heels over a pit of slowly churning and
steaming black goo. The rope holding them up is being slowly
burned through, primitively garbed natives dancing with glee in
a circle around them. Obi-Wan looks sheepishly at his master.
"oops?"
Qui-Gon does the only thing appropriate to the situation, his
padawan joining him.
Their laughter glitters into the night.
And it's so hard to take
There's no escape
Without a scrape
But you kept it going till the sun fell down
You kept it going
"Chew these.. they'll prevent infection. " Obi-Wan hands his
master a handful of the bitter leaves, gently cleaning the cut
as best he can with water salvaged from a spring and boiled
with his saber. Qui-Gon watches him, not pride alone that
softens his eyes as Obi-Wan tears a strip of cloth from the
inside of his sleeve and bandages his master with it. Both of
them wait in the lee of the cave for the rescue transport to
come for them.
Qui-Gon brushes his padawan's cheek with tentative fingers,
wondering why all of a sudden he feels shy. Obi-Wan leans over
and kisses him softly, on the forehead, like Qui-Gon did to him
when he was a child.
"Sleep. I'll keep watch, Master."
You might think I'm delirious
The way I run you down
But somewhere sometime
When you're curious
I'll be back around.
And I think that you're wild
And so uniquely styled
"Mahster." Obi-Wan wobbles unsteadily to his feet, gesturing to
the seat across from him. "The Drekons have absolutely
shtunning hoshpitality.. wait till you try one of these.. of
these.." Obi-Wan's brow furrows in thought.
"Sithsetzers?"
"Thatshit!" Obi-Wan looks indignant as the rest of the bar
turns and glares in his general direction.
"Obi-Wan, I think you've had quite enough of Drekon
hospitality." Qui-Gon catches his padawan as he sways, helping
him out of the bar.
"But... "
"I think it's best if we retire to our quarters, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan blinks, and makes a noise suspiciously like a giggle.
"Oh. Shure."
Random objects begin floating as Obi-Wan discovers the fun
effect of intoxication on Jedi Knights. "Might I shay,
mashter... you look positively fabulous in brown drab?"
You might think it's foolish
this chancey rendezvous
You might think I'm crazy
But all I want is you.
Twin moonlight pours in through the window, one beam of light
for each Jedi curled in bed, arms loosely around each other.
They've been quiet now for hours, not sleeping but not needing
to talk, each lost in the feel of the other's heart next to his
own.
"Rumored it is," Obi-Wan murmurs softly to Qui-Gon in the
silence, "that a Jedi craves not adventure."
"This is true." Qui Gon nods sagely, as if in council. "Or
excitement."
"You are both to me, master. You are everything."
They kiss easily, it is not awkward as it was a year ago. "And
you to me, Padawan. "
"Are we insane or what?" Obi-Wan thrills at the feel of
Qui-Gon's laugh against his cheek.
Archive 