Archive: Yes to Master and Apprentice and SWA-L; everyone else please ask first.
Notes: I wrote this story to illustrate one of the memories Obi-Wan describes in "Touch", my previous story. It’s PG, no serious smut, although if this one goes well, I expect I’ll write the smutty sequel. This one has a little bit of plot! And it’s so h/c. Comments and criticisms loved, craved and desired.
Pairing: Q/O Obi-Wan’s about 22 or so in this one, assuming he’s 25 in TPM.
Rating: PG
Series: Not really. Not yet.
Spoilers: Only if you have no idea who/what Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn and Jedi Knights are. No plot points from TPM revealed.
Summary: Obi-Wan is injured while on a dangerous mission, and Qui- Gon is forced to reconsider his relationship with his Padawan.

"Stay close, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon Jinn ordered. "I’m sensing danger for us here." Master and Padawan walked unobtrusively through the crowded streets of Bachuca Erodon, a small city on a distant world far from where Obi-Wan Kenobi wanted to be. Constant travel and instruction had taken their toll on the younger man of late. He felt somewhat weary and irritable, unable to focus his abilities on the task at hand.

The Jedi Master had been sent to this world to locate and gain information from a supposed assassin named Achoi Terat, whose latest target was a high-ranking diplomat from Alderaan. Qui-Gon’s instructions were clear. He was to learn who had sent the assassin, then take him into custody and deliver the man to local authorities. He had brought his apprentice with him on this mission as tradition demanded. Their only path to the assassin had been through delicate negotiation, mind manipulation, and an occasional bribe. Now that they were on their way to confront Terat, neither the Jedi nor his Padawan learner could afford to appear hostile to the local populace -- especially at this crucial moment.

Qui-Gon looked sharply at his apprentice, sensing a disquiet energy. The younger man’s body was tense. He was more a raised weapon than a tool of negotiation. Qui-Gon stopped in mid-stride and turned to Obi-Wan. "Perhaps you should wait in our quarters while I find this assassin." It was not a suggestion.

Obi-Wan’s anger flared at the insinuation he was no help to his teacher. Impatiently, he whirled and said, "You cannot protect me forever, Master."

Qui-Gon made sure his surprise did not register in his voice, or on his face, as he replied mildly, "If I must protect you because you cannot attend to your responsibilities, you place me at risk, Padawan. This I cannot permit. I can't defend you and myself as well. I must be able to rely upon you to defend me when necessary. In your present state of mind, I cannot do so."

The words seemed harsh, but truthful, and Obi-Wan flushed with the fury and embarrassment of self-awareness. Taking a deep breath, he blurted out, "I won’t leave you alone, Master! This man is dangerous."

"Of course he is. That’s why we’ve been sent to capture him." Qui-Gon scrutinized his pupil. He felt a mass of conflicting emotions from the young man. Rage, barely controlled. Exhaustion. Worry, for Qui-Gon and himself. Frustration at not being able to read his teacher’s thoughts. And -

Qui-Gon blinked in surprise. Waves of love emanated from the boy, seething beneath the other emotions. Qui-Gon stopped to consider this unexpected development for a moment. The young man needed his approval as desperately as a barren desert needs water. It was a thing he had considered before. Obi-Wan had come into his charge when he was just a teenager, barely thirteen, and not capable of making such choices or distinctions. Over the many years he had been Obi-Wan’s Master, friendship and respect had developed. But there was more.

Qui-Gon had withdrawn further and further behind a self-imposed barrier so Obi-Wan would not sense his Master’s affection for him and be distracted or repelled. Qui-Gon had even convinced himself he did not truly love the boy in any way other than as a teacher would. It was easier to function as his Master if there was no emotional involvement. From the beginning, however, he had felt a deep emotional connection with his Padawan. And somehow, Obi-Wan had managed to hide his true feelings about Qui-Gon from his Master - until now.

While weighing his next words, Qui-Gon watched his student watching him. A muscle moved in Obi-Wan’s cheek as his eyes seared into Qui-Gon’s, challenging him. "I won’t go, master. I-" A sudden movement behind him caused him to turn, too late. They had been so involved in their own emotions that neither Master nor Padawan had sensed the approach of the assassin. Two shots from a blaster, and Obi-Wan howled in pain before collapsing in a heap on the ground between his assailant and his Master.

Qui-Gon’s lightsaber was in his hand too quickly for the motion to be seen by the naked eye. He deflected multiple beams from the blaster before leaping forward on the offensive, a move which was unlike him. He fought back concern and anger as he sprang over the motionless body of his Padawan, hoping the younger man could still be saved. There was no time to reflect on the possibilities. Ignoring his instructions to detain Terat, he lunged forward and struck a blow to the side of the man’s head. In response, Terat tried to fire his blaster, but Qui-Gon’s blow landed truly and severed the weapon in half. Terat grabbed for a metal pole from a nearby parts stand and attempted to hold it up in defense, but Qui-Gon merely extended his hand, concentrating the Force on the object which threatened him, and drew it easily from Terat’s hands. The pole clattered to the ground as Terat took several steps back, evading the slashing lightsaber.

Qui-Gon wrestled with a choice. He could detain the assassin and delay getting help for Obi-Wan, or he could end this conflict now, without the possibility of learning anything from Terat. Had Qui-Gon been the master of his own emotions, the choice would have been a simple one - no man is above the mission for the common good. Qui-Gon knew this battle had been decided before they even arrived on the planet.

With two sure, rapid downward strokes of the lightsaber, Qui-Gon separated Achoi Terat’s hand from his body, then severed his head. The body of his enemy fell limply to the ground as Qui-Gon placed his saber back at his waist and went to Obi-Wan’s side. The wounds were severe, deep burns across the Padawan’s torso, and were life threatening. As gently as he could, Qui-Gon lifted his apprentice into his arms and strode in the direction of their nearby shelter. There was still time to help him, and so much left unsaid. He would not let this man die, even if it cost him everything he’d believed and fought for his entire adult life.

You cannot protect me forever, Master.

Qui-Gon Jinn closed his eyes against the memory of those prophetic words. Quietly, he fought down mounting terror that his young Padawan would not survive the painful injuries he’d suffered at the hands of Achoi Terat. For the first time since he achieved the level of Master, he felt himself overwhelmed by his emotions, ruled by them in a way which made rational thinking difficult. He knew the need to remain open to his feelings, to gain strength from them to help his student, but they were crushing him.

Obi-Wan lay still and pale on his pallet beneath the window as twilight purpled the sky beyond. Qui-Gon watched the younger man’s chest rise and fall for a few minutes, almost willing the breath in and out. It was the only reassurance available to him. Obi-Wan was not healing as he should, and he had never regained consciousness in all the hours between the battle and the deepening sunset. It would be up to Qui-Gon to help the healing. He was afraid to try, for fear he might discover it was beyond even his abilities. He dreaded what it would cost him to live with that knowledge, to watch his apprentice die.

He shut his eyes and centered himself, summoning the Force with a conscious act of will. With great effort he calmed his fear and quieted his mind, in order to allow himself to be used as an instrument of healing. He became acutely aware of Obi-Wan’s presence within the living Force growing faint, like a tiny spark diminishing in vast darkness. Qui-Gon shoved the thought away, focusing on the power coursing through him, molten and alive.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and went to Obi-Wan’s side. He knelt beside the pallet and shrugged off his dark overcloak, which puddled behind him as it fell from his arms. With great care, he folded the blanket back from his apprentice’s chest, then gently opened Obi-Wan’s tunic. He pulled away the bandages, exposing the ugly raw redness of deep burns across his torso. Qui-Gon extended his hands over the slender body, feeling a humming vibration building within them as he focused the Force.

Quite suddenly, he hesitated. For healing to take place, there was no need for Qui-Gon to touch Obi-Wan’s wounds. Something in Qui-Gon compelled him, something he could not take the time to examine too closely. He lowered his arms, reverentially moving his fingertips across Obi-Wan’s stomach. The whispering touch of fingers to skin was a comfort to Qui-Gon. He felt the deep connection to his student, opened himself to it, and allowed his emotions to flow freely from him through the Force. He immediately felt a strength building within him, an energy which flooded into Obi-Wan, repairing the deep damage. Obi-Wan stirred as his master ministered to him through the loving touch. He knew he was revealing things to his student that he had intended to keep locked tightly away, behind unimpeachable walls, but there was no help for it. If he survived, Obi-Wan would remember, and it would be dealt with as it must.

As he felt the waning of the Force rippling through him, Qui-Gon knew he had done as much as was possible. He hoped it would be enough. Still, he did not move his hands. He rested them there, against the lean muscles of the torso. He may never have the opportunity again, and he allowed himself this small pleasure. Someday, perhaps, there could be more. With a sigh, he pulled the edges of Obi-Wan’s tunic together and fastened it over the much improved wounds. Fate, and time, would have to take their course.

Near dawn, when the air had cooled with a fine, misting rain, Qui-Gon woke from restless dozing when a small sound alerted him. He rose immediately and went to check on Obi-Wan. A pleased grin lighted his face when he saw Obi-Wan struggling to rise to a sitting position. He quickly laid an arm behind Obi-Wan’s back and assisted him. The younger man winced as the tender areas on his stomach were stretched and contracted. "Have I been asleep, Master?" the pupil asked.

"Many hours," Qui-Gon said. "Your wounds were quite serious. I was concerned. It is good to see you awake. How do you feel?"

Obi-Wan considered the question. "Weak. And sore." He paused, then added, "And hungry."

"That’s a good sign, Obi-Wan. Come, try to stand." With one arm still securely behind Obi-Wan’s back, Qui-Gon guided him to his feet. They walked a few paces across the room, Obi-Wan cringing with the effort. As his breathing became ragged, Qui-Gon suggested, "Stop for a moment. Gather your strength."

"You healed me, Master, did you not?" At Qui-Gon’s affirmative nod, Obi-Wan knew all the indistinct memories of the previous night were accurate to some degree. Some recollections were clouded, but the knowledge of his Master’s concern and love for him seemed to resonate clearly, like a pure, perfect note of music. "I am grateful."

"There is no need to mention it." Qui-Gon steadied Obi-Wan and tentatively removed his arm, retreating behind the protection of formality.

Obi-Wan studied his Master a moment, then decided to press him. "You were afraid I might die?"

After a long reflection, Qui-Gon answered, "I was." Nothing more. He was warring with himself.

"Master." Qui-Gon’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of Obi-Wan’s voice speaking the simple title. He had not known how much meaning could be given a word merely by the tone of voice, and there was no doubt Obi-Wan spoke with love. Qui-Gon had revealed so much of his heart through his healing, and there was no way to deny it now. Wistful longing was in Obi-Wan’s tone as he said softly, "Master, when I am recovered, will you touch me again as you did last night?"

Qui-Gon knew his own heart. There was no need for further hesitation. He tipped the young man’s chin up with a finger and opened his thoughts and feelings to Obi-Wan. He gazed steadily at his Padawan with luminous blue eyes, communicating without speaking, while he watched the realization dawn in his apprentice’s mind. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened and filled with tears, betraying his astonished joy before he could stop his reaction. Qui-Gon clasped the handsome face between his large, strong hands, his thumbs gently stroking Obi-Wan’s cheeks. "In time, young Padawan, I will touch you in any way you desire." He bent his head and kissed the tears which trailed softly down the beloved face. His lips closed on Obi-Wan’s with resolute promise, tasting of salt and certainty.

Obi-Wan swayed into the wall for support, not trusting his legs to hold him. His arms closed around his master, pulling the larger man with him, against him, and gave into the explorations of Qui-Gon’s tongue. Qui-Gon gently disentangled himself from Obi-Wan’s embrace and pulled away slightly. "You are not strong enough yet, Obi-Wan," he said, regretfully, in answer to the unspoken question.

"But Master, I-" Obi-Wan began.

Qui-Gon stopped the objection by covering the willful words with his mouth, thoroughly crushing the protest. A moment later, when he had breath to speak again, he smiled at his student. "There will be time for all things. First the healing must be complete. I will not endanger you further. Rest is what’s needed." He pried Obi-Wan away from the wall which was holding him up and swung him easily into his arms, to carry him back to the pallet.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said meekly, pure mischief dancing in his eyes as the teacher settled the student into bed.

Qui-Gon covered Obi-Wan’s hand with his fine, long fingers. "There will be time. I promise you."

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