Archive: m_a, http://www.slashcity.org/~elysian/
Categories: PWP, Humour/Parody
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Contemplation of cruelty to food?
Spoilers: none
Summary: It appears that even Jedi have no cure for the common
cold.
Andromeda's first line challenge.
Feedback: please?
Disclaimers: Who would even *consider* paying me for
this...
PS: So it's more like "lunch in bed." Oh well.
"Eat me, Master."
The slices of bread purred enticingly.
"Padawan!" Qui-Gon protested with exasperation, shoving away
the proffered sandwich. "For the last time, I'm not hungry!"
"You have to eat something," Obi-Wan pouted. "To regain your
strength. And you've lost weight this last week," he accused,
poking his master's belly for emphasis.
Qui-Gon squirmed away with a smirk, pulling up the thick
blankets as armour against the prodding. "I have more than
enough weight for some of it to be considered expendable."
Obi-Wan frowned disapprovingly and opened his mouth to object,
but a small pillow chose just then to fling itself at his head.
Not a particularly Jedi-like gesture. "I'd appreciate it if
you'd stop treating me like I had a brush with death, Obi-Wan.
It was only a cold!"
"You were sick," Obi-Wan insisted, throwing the pillow back at
him, "and don't even talk like you're all better now. You
should spend at least another day resting in bed, and I intend
to see that you do. And you will eat something, even if it
means I have to spoon-feed you applesauce like a two year old,
coaxing your mouth open with speeder noises!"
Qui-Gon scowled at the padawan still hovering over his bed with
a tray of food and a bowl of soup. "If you make the sandwich
talk one more time, I'm going to eat it just to hear it scream.
I'll spit it out afterward," he warned, seeing the hope in
Obi-Wan's eyes.
"How very dignified, Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn," his padawan
snorted, setting the tray aside.
"I find that dignity becomes of less and less import after
spending a week confined to a bed, mad with boredom, worried
over ceaselessly, and forced to eat just to stop my apprentice
from cajoling me via sandwich puppetry."
"I thought it was cute," Obi-Wan sulked.
"I couldn't eat a sandwich if it was talking to me anyway,"
Qui-Gon confided with a wry grin. "I'd feel guilty."
"You and your compassion for lower lifeforms," Obi-Wan sighed
dramatically, eyes twinkling.
"You do think you're the paragon of cuteness, don't you."
"I try, Master."
"You're impossible."
"You love it. Admit it."
"Come here," Qui-Gon growled, snatching his padawan's arm and
pulling him down to the bed.
Obi-Wan fell over him clumsily, smothering his delighted
laughter in his master's chest. "You're--mmmf--Supposed to be
resting," he chided.
"Rest with me," Qui-Gon suggested, assaulting his neck with
ticklish kisses.
"I hardly--mmmm--think---this mmf counts mmmf as--resting.
Rather hungry all of a sudden, aren't you!"
"Shhh, or I'll feel guilty about devouring you."
"You just want to give me your cold as revenge, don't you,"
Obi-Wan accused into his master's lips.
"Padawan! I'm shocked that you'd even think I--"
"Oh, just kiss me," Obi-Wan ordered. "I'll probably be confined
to bed, talking to a sandwich tomorrow, but as long as I get
plenty of 'rest,'" mischievous grin, "I don't think I'll mind
so much."
Qui-Gon pulled the blankets over them, muffling their laughter.
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