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CATEGORY: Humour
RATING: R
SPOILERS: TPM.
SUMMARY: Q/O. Post-TPM. ...for love is strong as death...
FEEDBACK: Yes, any and all comments welcome.
DISCLAIMER: SW belongs to George Lucas, not me. I do not profit
in any way by this story.
TPM VIEWINGS AT THIS POSTING: 10
MORE FIC: http://members.tripod.com/~prillalar/fic/fic.html
AMBIANCE: Indigo Girls. "How long til my soul gets it right?"
Thanks to Anne Higgins for the discussion post that sparked
this. And to Eris, Muse o' my heart. You were there.
August 1999
When the blade passed through Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan felt the pain.
When he held his dying master in his arms, Obi-Wan felt the
life ebbing away. And when he lay wakeful in the dark, cold
without his lover's body near, Obi-Wan felt a touch upon his
mind and knew that Qui-Gon was still with him.
It was a comfort in the days that followed, Qui-Gon's presence
with him, not tangible, but nearly so. As though Qui-Gon were
always beside him. Something like the loss of a limb, Obi-Wan
supposed, when the missing part could still be felt but not
seen. But this was no hallucination. This was Qui-Gon.
When Obi-Wan faced the trials, Qui-Gon was with him, giving him
strength. When Obi-Wan spoke with Yoda, Qui-Gon was there,
giving him determination. When they committed the body to the
flames, Obi-Wan was calm, feeling his master's presence
wrapping around him like a cloak, giving him peace.
That night Qui-Gon appeared to Obi-Wan for the fist time,
luminous in the night. He did not speak, but he reached out and
where his flickering touch met flesh, nerve endings ignited and
Obi-Wan felt a pleasure he had never known before, not even in
his most passionate nights with Qui-Gon.
Months went by. Sometimes Qui-Gon would speak to him, a soft
voice in his ear, murmuring words of love or wisdom. Often he
would come to Obi-Wan at night, setting him on fire with
ghostly caresses. And always, always, Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon
there beside him.
Always. All the time. Everywhere.
When Obi-Wan dropped the soap in the shower, he bent down to
pick it up at the same time Qui-Gon levitated it up for him.
Obi-Wan had a hard time trying to explain the black eye. When
Obi-Wan trained Anakin, Qui-Gon made numerous suggestions as to
how Obi-Wan could improve his teaching methods. Obi-Wan ground
his teeth and followed them. When Obi-Wan met other Jedi in the
temple halls, Qui-Gon muttered comments about them in his ear.
Apparently being dead hadn't improved his disposition any.
Qui-Gon had taken to manifesting himself on Obi-Wan's couch in
the evenings, wanting to chat about the day. It was getting
more and more difficult to make conversation, especially since
Qui-Gon had been there for the whole day anyhow. Obi-Wan found
himself making up excuses not to go back to his quarters until
it was time for bed.
And bed. The undead sex tricks Qui-Gon was using were great at
first, but soon Obi-Wan began to crave the touch of skin on
skin, a warm body, a living body that would respond to
his touch for a change.
One day, he thought he'd found just that. Daria Thal, a Jedi
Master just returned from assignment off-world, asked him to
come for dinner in her quarters. She was an old friend of
Qui-Gon's, she said, and she'd like to talk to Obi-Wan about
him.
She certainly was the most attractive of all Qui-Gon's friends.
And the most charming. And an excellent cook. The conversation
sparkled. The wine flowed. Qui-Gon was silent, thank the living
Force. Obi-Wan hoped he wasn't sulking. They progressed from
dinner to dessert, from dessert to another bottle of wine, from
wine to the bedroom.
Bliss. Obi-Wan revelled in the warmth, the motion, the way she
came alive in his arms. The smell of her, the feel of her, the
weight of her as they rolled together -- it felt so right.
"Suck on her earlobe," Qui-Gon whispered. "She loves that."
Obi-Wan's head jerked up and his heart sank.
"Are you all right, Obi-Wan?" Daria asked.
"Yes, sorry." How was he supposed to perform with Qui-Gon
coaching him on technique? He returned to kissing her neck,
relishing the soft skin beneath his mouth. He didn't need any
lectures -- this was one area where he'd never needed any
instruction, even from his master, though he'd taught the old
man a thing or two.
"The earlobe," Qui-Gon hissed again. "Never mind."
Obi-Wan felt a brief squeezing sensation all over, like he was
suddenly becoming smaller. Before he could even panic, he was
no longer in control of his actions. Something -- Qui-Gon, of
course -- took over, inhabiting his body and pushing Obi-Wan
back to where he could watch and hear and feel a little without
actually doing anything. Obi-Wan screamed but it didn't make
any difference. So he looked on and listened to Daria moan as
Qui-Gon sucked on her earlobe. And...other things.
It was horribly fascinating, feeling his body act in ways that
were familiar to him, but from a different perspective. And
those little grunts that Qui-Gon always made...to hear them in
his own voice...eeew.
It wasn't over soon enough, but it was over eventually. Qui-Gon
didn't release him even then and he had to listen Daria purr
how much Obi-Wan was like his master. And then to hear himself
say, "He taught me everything I know." Pompous bastard!
Just outside his quarters, Obi-Wan felt himself snap back into
him. He turned to take a swing at Qui-Gon before he
realised that wouldn't do any good. He palmed into the room
instead.
"How do you stand being so short?" Qui-Gon's voice was in the
air but his form did not appear. "It must be very frustrating."
"I'll tell you what's frustrating -- being possessed by a
possessive dead man while trying to make love."
"I was just trying to help." Obi-Wan didn't need to see Qui-Gon
to know which sour expression he had on his ethereal face. "I
know what she likes."
"Don't--" Obi-Wan tried to calm himself. Peace, tranquillity,
serenity. "I realise that it's hard to be...dead, Master, but I
really would prefer it if you didn't take over my body like
that again. Not without prior arrangement."
The pause that followed was just a shade too long. "Of course,
Obi-Wan. I completely understand."
Obi-Wan sighed, yawned, and went to bed. He pretended to sleep
until morning.
Things were quiet for a few days. Qui-Gon backed off a little
and Obi-Wan managed to read a whole book without being
interrupted for a natter. He began to relax and even initiated
a conversation when he needed advice about one of his plants
that was doing poorly. Maybe they had just gone through some
necessary period of adjustment.
Then one day, Obi-Wan was working with Anakin, teaching him
some elementary lightsaber moves. "The grip is important, Ani,
and the stance."
"Like this?" The child's brow creased with concentration.
"No, not quite." Obi-Wan shifted Anakin's fingers on the
handle, then stooped to help him position his feet.
"That's wrong, Obi-Wan. The hands are too close together."
Not now, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan thought. Just ignore him and he'll go
away, right?
"Master Qui-Gon!" Anakin could see him?
"Hello, Ani." Apparently so. Qui-Gon stood near them on the
mats, glowing and magisterial, hands on his hips. "I hope
you're being good for Obi-Wan."
"Yes, sir, Master, sir."
"He's a good teacher, but I think his saber technique isn't
quite right, so I thought I'd help out with the instruction."
Peace, tranquillity, serenity. Peace, tranquillity, serenity.
Peace, tranq-- Obi-Wan lost it. How dare Qui-Gon interfere with
Obi-Wan's Padawan? The boy he'd dropped Obi-Wan for, then
foisted on him, remember? Obi-Wan flashed his lightsaber to
life. "My saber technique?" He stepped forward. "My
saber technique?" His head pounded with angry blood.
"Lightsaber fight, remember? Sith lord, remember? You, dead, me
alive." He pointed his weapon at Qui-Gon. "Remember?"
Qui-Gon looked as dangerous as Obi-Wan had ever seen him. Could
you fight a dead man? Could you be killed by a dead man? If it
would get Qui-Gon off his back, it might be worth it. "You no
longer want my help, Obi-Wan?"
"No, Qui-Gon, I do not."
They glared at each other for a minute, then Qui-Gon turned to
Anakin. "How about you, Ani?"
Anakin's face lit up. "Yes, sir!"
Qui-Gon moved behind Anakin and laid spectral hands on the
boy's shoulders. Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon looked at
Obi-Wan. Then Qui-Gon shimmered and disappeared.
It was crushing to feel the presence leave him, but Obi-Wan was
relieved as well. Better to be alone and get on with life. He
took a deep breath and gathered his concentration.
"Ready, Ani?"
Anakin raised his saber and waited. The set of his shoulders,
his grip on the handle, the look on his face -- all too
familiar. This could be worrisome, Obi-Wan thought.
But still, what was the worst that could happen?
F I N I S
Did Obi-Wan make the right choice? Did you like the story? Did
you see The Blair Witch Project? prillalar@geocities.com
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