Notes: Written for ~A as a holiday gift. Enjoy!
"Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan
stared at himself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror that
filled one wall of his quarters. It was there to provide him with assistance
and reference when he was practicing his kata moves.
But right now, he was using it to determine how sick he looked.
He'd gone
to bed the night before feeling beat, but assumed it had everything to do with
the incredible deluge of work he and Qui-Gon had been trying to wade through.
The banquet for the Senate was taking place next week, and delegates from all
of the represented worlds were flying in. Each Master and Padawan pair were
assigned no fewer than five groups and for each they had to learn basic phrases
in the language, memorize dietary restrictions and environmental needs, and
coordinate quarter assignments so that they would not run into opposing worlds'
delegates in the hallways.
Qui-Gon and
Obi-Wan had been assigned twelve different worlds. So far, most of the senators
from the planets they had been assigned had not been at all helpful, either. And
if that wasn't bad enough already, Obi-Wan had also been asked to participate
in helping to arrange the welcome ceremony. The two had been burning the candle
at both ends, with only a few precious hours of sleep each night.
Obi-Wan
felt fatigued this morning, but that was the only thing he could attribute to being
overworked. He also felt horribly congested, his throat was aflame, and there
was a dull pain in his head. Obi-Wan opened his mouth wide, trying to look
inside to see his throat, but couldn't see far past his teeth. He pressed his
hand to his forehead to see if he had a fever, but couldn't tell. Then, before
he knew what was happening, he sneezed. "ehhh-IHHHShhoo!" Obi-Wan grimaced as his head spun and
nose ran. He grabbed a handkerchief from the top drawer of his dresser and blew
his nose, then wiped off the mirror.
"Obi-Wan?
Will you be gracing me with your lovely presence at all today?"
Obi-Wan
glanced at the time display, shocked to see he had taken far too much time
getting ready this morning. He put a handkerchief in his pocket and slid one up
his sleeve as well. Then headed out into the common area.
Qui-Gon was
there, making breakfast. Obi-Wan was always amazed at
how much his master got accomplished in the early mornings. After dividing up
the work for the day they had meditated together. Then while Obi-Wan showered
and dressed, Qui-Gon caught up on his correspondences and cooked breakfast. Obi-Wan
was not at all hungry, but he made an attempt at
eating the scrambled eggs and oatmeal, and he had two glasses of juice.
While he
ate, Obi-Wan practiced controlling his symptoms. Every time he felt the need to
sneeze, he held his breath and reached out to the Force to calm his body. Every
time his nose started to run he sniffed slowly and silently. And every time he
needed to cough, he quietly cleared his throat while banging his silverware
against the plate to cover the sound. While he ate, he also went over all of
his options. And by the time he finished his food, he carefully broached the
subject with his master.
"Qui-Gon, I
have been thinking... perhaps I can stay here today? It is my place as a padawan to assist you in the work."
Qui-Gon
could not immediately answer, as he was in the middle of a sip of tea. He
looked at Obi-Wan over his teacup, then swallowed and set the cup down. He
considered the proposition with all seriousness, but finally replied, "It is
also your place as a padawan to go to your classes. You will need the base and
background your courses give you in order to perform in work that is more
pressing than making arrangements for politicians."
Obi-Wan
nodded. "Are you certain? I only have two classes today. And I can get the
notes from Bant."
"I am
certain. Go to your classes. I will meet you after your second one and we can
continue our work."
Devastated,
Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes, Master. I understand." He had managed to get his hopes up
about the possibility of staying home, and now regretted doing so. He should
have known that his Master would not allow it. They had a week left to finish
their work. And though it was an incredibly busy time, the work was not yet so
urgent. But Obi-Wan had thought it would have been the perfect arrangement. He
could remain in his room and take care of himself. He could carefully and
quietly nurse his cold while doing work, and hopefully recover much more
quickly. With a sigh, Obi-Wan picked up his datapad and
headed for the door.
"Obi-Wan,
where do you think you're going?"
Obi-Wan
stopped in his tracks, halfway to the door. His heart thumped with panic as he
turned around. "Class, Master. Did we not just speak of that?"
Qui-Gon
stared him down, arms crossed over his chest. "Without your
boots?"
Obi-Wan
looked down with a slight flush in his cheeks to see that he had nothing on but
leggings.
As he
headed back to his room to get them, his master called after him, "One might
think you didn't want to go to class."
Obi-Wan sat
down on his sleep couch and pulled on his boots. He glanced at himself in the
mirror again and sighed. "One might." He stood up and headed out again. Before
he made it to the door of their quarters, he heard someone clear a throat, and
was surprised when it wasn't his own.
"You are
forgetting something else, Padawan Mine."
It took
Obi-Wan, with his clouded mind and ailing body, to realize what it was. But
then he smiled and walked over to Qui-Gon. They embraced, and Qui-Gon kissed
Obi-Wan's forehead. Obi-Wan sighed happily to himself
as he felt the strong, warm arms wrap around him. He nuzzled into his master's
chest, wishing he could stay there all day. But he knew that would definitely
be pressing his luck. And already he felt like sneezing again. So, reluctantly,
he pulled back. "Have a good day, Master. May the Force be with you."
"And with
you," Qui-Gon replied. "Now go, before you are late."
*
"Nervous or sick?"
Obi-Wan
blinked at Bant. "Pardon?" he whispered back.
"You keep
rubbing your nose," Bant replied. They kept their voices low, almost silent, so
they would not be overheard in the small lecture hall. "That means you need to
sneeze. And since I do not see any cats in here," she pretended to look around
as though searching for felines. "The only two reasons you could have for
rubbing your nose are if you are nervous or sick. Which is it?"
He
hesitated to answer, undecided, but she nodded anyway. "I see. Sick."
"I am not!"
Obi-Wan insisted weakly. But he rubbed his nose again, and suddenly snapped
forward in his seat. "hehhh-Yehshhhh!"
"Padawan
Kenobi, did you have something to say?" asked Master G'nugle,
who had apparently heard nothing more than a loud
sound from Obi-Wan's direction.
Obi-Wan
shook his head. "No, Master. I'm sorry."
Class
resumed. Obi-Wan managed to make it through with only a few small coughs and a
few more sneezes, but these he stifled successfully. His second class of the day
did not go well, or even as well as the first. The class was more hands-on, so
he was better able to hide the sneezes during the work, but not completely.
"hahh-Ihshh! hahChhh!"
His nose buried in a handkerchief, Obi-Wan winced when he felt a hand on his
shoulder and realized it certainly wasn't Bant's. He
pinched his nose through the handkerchief and wiped it dry. Then he looked up
to see Master Tae-Shan. "Excuse be," he said, the
congestion getting to him, but he did not dare blow his nose now.
"Padawan
Kenobi," said the master, "I know you would not attend my lesson while ill. Not
when there is so much going on in the Temple
and you would be exposing your agemates to an
illness."
Obi-Wan
rubbed his nose again. This was not the time to sneeze or cough. He stared up
at Master Tae-Shan's stern face, though he saw some sympathy in his eyes. "I
will go back to my room," Obi-Wan said. He would not lie to a master, but he
could not admit that he had done just as Master Tae-Shan feared he had.
Master Tae-Shan
shook his head. "Go to the Healing Dome."
"Master, I
will be fine if only-"
"I do not
bargain, Padawan. It is an order. Go straight to the Healing Dome."
Obi-Wan
sighed to himself and nodded. "Yes, Master." He
quickly cleaned up his work area, knowing Bant would put away his supplies for
him afterwards, and then headed out. He walked nearly the whole way there with
a handkerchief over his nose.
*
"ehh-IHshoo! Huhshhh!" Obi-Wan sat on
the examination table, legs swinging back and forth from nerves. His emotional
state certainly didn't help him control the tickles in his nose, and he was
slowly going through the box of tissues the healer had parked on Obi-Wan's lap
after the examination. "ehhh-Shoo! ehhhKshhh! hehhSuhhh!" He barely made it
two minutes without a few sneezes, in fact, and was sniffling and coughing in
the times between.
Obi-Wan heard
footsteps and grimaced, blowing his nose quickly and trying to gather up all
the tissues he had used. There were too many to hide them completely.
It wasn't
one of the healers who appeared in the doorway, but Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan's master
walked into the room, closing the door behind. He hopped up on the table beside
Obi-Wan and drew the younger man close. "I heard the funniest thing earlier
today, Padawan." Obi-Wan looked up at Qui-Gon, the worried blue-gray eyes
looking up at soft blue ones. "I got a communication saying to come down here
because my padawan was ill and could not be released unless it was into my
care." He stroked Obi-Wan's arm, and then Obi-Wan's cheek. "I thought that it must
be an error of some sort, because I could not imagine finding out this way that
my padawan and lover was sick." He bent and kissed Obi-Wan's forehead tenderly.
"Is it an error, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan
paused, then shook his head. "No, Master. I am sick. Hahh..." He was glad to have the tissues at his disposal. "hehhKShhh! Sniff! hahhChuhh! Sniff! But it's only a little cold."
"Is that
true, Padawan Mine?" Qui-Gon asked, studying Obi-Wan's
just as Obi-Wan had done that morning in the mirror. "Only a
little cold?" His hand swept over Obi-Wan's forehead to feel for fever,
then rested on Obi-Wan's padawan braid, giving the hair a bit of a tug to
remind Obi-Wan of full disclosure.
"Maybe it's
not exactly little. But it is just a cold." He coughed and Qui-Gon rubbed his
back. Then Obi-Wan turned and snuggled into Qui-Gon's chest, trying desperately
to reclaim those feelings of warmth and protection he had felt that morning. Seconds
later, he felt that and more flood into him. Qui-Gon wrapped both arms around
him and hugged him tightly, but also lifted his leg and swung it over, onto the
table, so that Obi-Wan was right in front of him now.
Obi-Wan relaxed. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. We have simply so much work
to do. I did not want to interfere with that or worry you."
"Well,
there's no use worrying about it, because we no longer have work
to do," said Qui-Gon. "The Council does not wish to risk exposing the guests to
anything. So our delegates have all been reassigned and our other duties have
been postponed."
Obi-Wan
sighed into his master's chest. "Oh, Master. I am sorry..."
"Don't be,"
Qui-Gon chuckled. "After all our work so far, I could use a rest. And, to tell
you the truth, missing a stuffy political function will not break my heart."
Obi-Wan pulled
back, grabbing another tissue. "hehhChshh! KShihh! Sniff! I might be feeling better in a
week," he said. "We might still attend the banquet."
Qui-Gon
continued to chuckle, and pulled Obi-Wan close again. "No, I don't think so."
He kissed the top of Obi-Wan's head and rubbed his hand up and down Obi-Wan's
back. "Even if you recover by then... I have a feeling that we can find a better
use for our time." Obi-Wan chuckled and nodded in agreement. Qui-Gon gave him a
tight squeeze and then they separated. After Qui-Gon hopped down, he extended a
hand to help Obi-Wan down. "Come now. Grab your tissues, put your boots on...
again... and let's get you home to our bed."