Summary: Closet cleaning leads to reminiscing and...
Notes: Thanks to Riley for beta-ing this and for her obsession
with men's shoes that partly inspired the story. This is also
my Keeper's Challenge story, although it is about 200 words too
long. I am the Keeper of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan's civilian clothes
used on their dangerous undercover missions.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to Mr. Lucas, not me. I did dream
once that George was my uncle. If he really was I know what I'd
ask him for as a Christmas gift!!!
Feedback: Please, this is my first slash story, even if it is
relatively smutless. Be kind. Constructive criticisms welcome.
Qui-Gon Jinn had no sooner entered his padawan's bedchamber
than he nearly lost an eye to a flying silver metal belt. At
the last moment he sidestepped the surprisingly dangerous
accessory. He was still wondering why Obi-Wan had chosen it as
a weapon when a black and white athletic shoe struck him
solidly in the chest. He was somewhat chagrined that he had not
sensed the "danger" before it hit, but felt fractionally better
for having caught the projectile.
He determined that the attack was being launched from the
interior of Obi-Wan's closet. Carefully he peeked in and saw
his apprentice on his hands and knees. Now that is a pleasant
picture, Qui-Gon mused.
The young man held the other black and white shoe in his right
hand as he attempted to pair up dozens of shoes and boots. He
glanced up, noticed Qui-Gon, and a delighted smile lit his
face. "Master, you found the other shoe!" He reached out and
took it from Qui-Gon's hand. "You know, I don't believe these
are even mine," he said absently, tossing the shoes onto a pile
across the room.
"The shoe found me, Obi-Wan," the older man said as he rubbed
a hand over his midsection.
Obi-Wan snapped back to attention and had the good grace to
flush slightly. "Sorry, I guess I got carried away with my
spring cleaning."
Standing back, Qui-Gon took stock of the younger man's closet,
or at least he tried to. The task was enormous. He shook his
head in astonishment. Where in the galaxy had Obi-Wan gotten
all these clothes?
The question, though not asked out loud, had been anticipated.
"They're mostly from our missions over the years. Local
costumes we were forced to wear in the name of diplomacy and
some things from the undercover assignments as well."
One small batch of clothing hung on the overburdened rod some
distance from the rest. Qui-Gon waved a hand at them. "And what
are these?"
Sitting back on his heels, Obi-Wan looked over at the clothing
Qui-Gon indicated. "Those have too many memories attached to
ever part with them"
Qui-Gon was curious to see what caused this unexpected
sentimentality. He held up a pair of dark brown leather pants,
a matching jacket and a gold shirt. "I believe this outfit came
with a very important accessory," he said.
"The knife is in the top drawer of my dresser. And again I
wish to stress that I had no intention of doing what I did."
"It was quite effective though."
Obi-Wan nodded. "That it was." Qui-Gon had been posing as an
arms dealer and Obi-Wan as his bodyguard. They were meeting
with a terrorist group. Their leader had a difficult time
accepting the idea Qui-Gon would have such a young man as his
protector. Certainly, Obi-Wan was not a physically imposing
figure. But he did know how to throw a knife, and aided by the
Force he was deadly accurate. In a blur of speed, he yanked the
dagger from its sheath on his thigh and tossed it at the head
of one of the lieutenants. This throw was designed to scare the
man not harm him. The knife would merely pluck a few hairs from
the victim's head and pin them to the wall.
On this occasion, more than a few hairs ended up on the
blade's tip. Impaled on the knife was the man's whole head of
hair. He had been wearing a toupee. A very poorly secured
toupee. Needless to say the lieutenant was embarrassed, but his
superior was immeasurably impressed. From then on Obi-Wan was
treated quite deferentially and he noticed several amongst the
group who always found reasons to hold a hand on top of their
head when he was near. Apparently, there had been a good deal
of disguised baldness in the ranks.
Next Qui-Gon pulled out a pair of dark blue work pants with a
lighter blue shirt. "I remember these from Hadrall. We joined
up with those spice smugglers who lived on that old cargo
ship." At the mention of that ship, Obi-Wan visibly shuddered.
For reasons Obi-Wan could not fathom, the smugglers got a
chortle out of living on the old seafaring vessel; he on the
other hand got seasick every half-hour. He could sense that
Qui-Gon was also remembering his distinct discomfort.
"I did my best to distract you, Padawan"
"You threw me over your shoulder and dumped me into a
lifeboat."
"I don't recall too many complaints at the time," Qui-Gon
remarked.
A small chuckle escaped Obi-Wan's throat. "Well, I did forget
about my seasickness."
Crossing his arms across his body Qui-Gon said in a mock
serious tone, "It is good to know that you do not feel nauseous
when we make love."
Obi-Wan stood and stepped gingerly over the piles of clothing
and shoes. He tipped his head back slightly and kissed his
master on the lips. The kiss was deliciously brief. Obi-Wan
pulled away slowly and then did something completely out of
character. He swooned, pressing the back of his hand to his
forehead and whispering breathlessly, "Well, occasionally I do
feel dizzy and short of breath." Then he dropped his hand and
the act, raised one elegant eyebrow and laughed wickedly.
Qui-Gon joined him.
The next hanger on the rod held a pair of black satin-sheened
pants, a green shirt with a black collar and cuffs, and a black
cape. "Obi-Wan, these are not yours."
"No, Master. As you well know, you wore those when we were
visiting Syret for the Lightning Festival. One year, one
hundred and twelve days ago."
"One year, one hundred and fourteen days ago, Obi-Wan. And I
will never forget that day. The day I realized you felt the
same way about me that I felt about you." Qui-Gon's hand gently
caressed his love's cheek.
Obi-Wan leaned in to the touch, and then he looked up at his
master through his lashes. "Master," he said softly, "could you
do me a great favor."
"Anything, Obi-Wan," the older man vowed.
"Could you put that outfit on? I think I should like to rip it
off you again."
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