As Qui-Gon recalled, it had all been going according to plan, when Obi-Wan
had suddenly slipped on a patch of spilled wine and fallen into the raw bar
at the center of the banquet hall. Even that wouldn't have been so bad, but
-- as one always does when losing one's balance -- the young man, sensing
the imminent impact, had flung both arms out to break his fall and struck a
passing waiter on the elbow, causing him to drop his tray, which had been
piled high with toast points. Backing away from the waiter apologetically,
the padawan had walked smack into the father of the bride, spilling that
gentleman's drink down his shirtfront. Paralyzed with a combination of
horror and amusement, Qui-Gon had made a mental note to have Adi help
Obi-Wan practice before the next time work required him to wear three-inch
heels.
Collecting his apprentice, he made a Force-enhanced apology to their
blustering host and shepherded the "girl" to a secluded balcony where "she"
could fume without being overheard -- and he could throw back his head and
laugh. "Go right ahead and laugh, Master," Obi-Wan seethed. "One of these
days we'll visit a world where you'll be the one in the uncomfortable --" he
fumbled a bit with the serape around his shoulders -- "preposterous
disguise."
Qui-Gon brushed a tear of mirth from his eye. "I'm sorry, Padawan," he
said, "but you made quite a spectacle. I don't think I've ever seen someone
flail quite so much or so violently --" Obi-Wan scoffed -- "especially not
someone who looked such a picture as you."
"Flattery won't work on me, Master," the younger man spat. "I'll put up
with this idiotic charade for those ridiculous people in there --"
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon warned, "what have we discussed about your tendency to
judge other peoples' ways of life?"
"I'm sorry, master, but the idea that
only a man and a woman can -- never
mind."
"No, go on."
"And I don't understand why it's important that they believe we're a
couple on this mission anyway."
"It's important that they think of us as a couple rather than a partnership
so that they trust us, Obi-Wan, you know that. Couples make social visits.
Partners make business trips. And we don't want them suspecting our
purpose."
"As you say. Anyway, I'll go along with the ruse for them, but
only until
we can discover their purpose for the attack on their neighbors. Then we
agreed we could leave and I'd be allowed to get rid of this hair. And these
shoes. Not to mention the makeup --"
"I don't know," Qui-Gon pretended to muse. "The hair and the makeup can go,
but I find I like the shoes more than I expected to."
"Master?" Obi-Wan said, managing to sound at once wary and incredulous.
"They make you taller, for a start, which can only be good. Save us both a
lot of neck cramps," the older man began, leaning down -- not quite as far
as usual -- to nip at his lover's earlobe. Obi-Wan swatted him away.
"Also, they make your legs seem that much longer, and you know I can't think
of anything else once I get started on those legs of yours," he continued,
unperturbed, bending to taste behind the opposite ear. Obi-Wan ducked and
made to skitter away, but landed off-center on one foot and tipped over to
that side as the heel slid out from under him. "And," Qui-Gon finished,
catching his padawan before he fell, "you can't move as quickly in them as
you can flat-footed, which gives your old master a fighting chance at
catching up." Holding Obi-Wan with his arms pinned to his sides, Qui-Gon
went for the neck.
"You're bigger than me, Master," Obi-Wan said through clenched teeth,
valiantly trying to maintain his control of the situation and keep the
conversation focused on their assignment.
"Mm-hmm," Qui-Gon agreed, pressing warm, moist kisses to the other man's
collarbone.
"Your legs are longer. You can always catch up."
"Mmm," came the non-committal response as Qui-Gon dipped his tongue into the
hollow of Obi-Wan's throat.
"And -- ah -- you're not ... not old," Obi-Wan said, wrestling his arms free
of Qui-Gon's grip so he could grip the self-confessed bigger man by the
shoulders in time for the fierce, head-spinning kiss that followed.
"Mmmmm," Qui-Gon said into Obi-Wan's mouth, as he threaded a hand into the
long, curly hair currently spilling from the younger man's head. Their
tongues clashed single-mindedly, teeth nibbled at each other's lips,
nostrils flared as they tried to avoid separating to breathe. At the same
moment, both noticed the presence of a third person.
Obi-Wan froze, his eyes flying open. Qui-Gon relaxed his grip and gentled
the kiss, but kept moving and urged Obi-Wan through the Force to do the
same. [[Remember, love, they know we're here together.]]
[[Right,]] Obi-Wan projected.
[[But they believe you're a woman. Behave like one.]]
[[What?!]]
[[Obi-Wan,]] Qui-Gon said, seeming somehow to sigh, [[you've been with
women. Have you been so caught up in yourself that you've paid no attention
to them? How they move, how they feel?]]
[[How they feel in my arms, Master, is entirely different from how they must
feel in their own places.]] His actions belied his words, Qui-Gon noticed,
as Obi-Wan unconsciously wriggled in his arms and tipped his head to one
side, exposing more neck for Qui-Gon to bite. [[It would be better if you
behaved as though I were a woman, rather than the man you know me to be.]]
[[It's a moot point, Padawan,]] Qui-Gon noted as they both felt their
observer drift back toward the crowd of pulsing life-presences inside the
hall. They separated, leaning their foreheads together, smiling slightly
into each other's eyes. "You'll need to redo your lipstick before we can go
back inside," Qui-Gon murmured.
Obi-Wan snorted. "I bet when you took up with me, you never thought you'd
say that again," he said. "And that's not the only thing that has to happen
before we can go back inside."
"Hmm?"
"I'm -- uh -- I'm not a woman, Master. And at the moment nobody in that
room would believe I was."
"Ah." Qui-Gon took a step away from his apprentice. "Can I help?"
"No, I think you've done plenty," Obi-Wan smirked, closing his eyes and
taking a deep, cleansing breath.
"There is no passion," Qui-Gon reminded him, "there is serenity."
Obi-Wan opened one eye. "There's plenty of passion, Master," he said. "But
it will keep."
Qui-Gon grinned and handed the younger man his shoulder bag, which he had
dropped when he fell off his shoe. With a skill Qui-Gon wouldn't have
thought he possessed, given his balance issues, Obi-Wan reapplied his
feminine makeup and fixed his wig, artfully arranging the curls with a
fingertip. Giving his head a shake and squaring his shoulders, he looked at
his master with an eyebrow raised. "Shall we?"
"Indeed," the older man smiled. "Better take my hand, though. We wouldn't
want you to fall. Again."
Obi-Wan batted his eyelashes. "So thoughtful," he simpered. "Let's hurry."
Without waiting for Qui-Gon, he started back into the banquet hall on his
own.
"Yes, dear," Qui-Gon chuckled, following him.
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