Title: The General and the Bookworm
Author: Jasmine Storm
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: George owns Obi-Wan. I just play with him.
Summary: ABH. You and the General share a secret reading session.
Dedication: To Bookworm, for the art at her forum inspired this fic… and the rumors of her reading habits. J Also, Miss Jade for making the wonderful banner that inspired this fic……… I hope she doesn’t mind me playing with her man….

Author’s note: In my world, there’s no such thing as stinky feet, either. (You’ll understand when you read it)

* * * * *

He sits there in the corner of the smallish store room that had been converted to an archive on the large warship, reading a passage on a data card. His golden blond-brown hair brushes his shoulders, and his face wrapped in concentration on the words. His legs are crossed, balancing the data card on his knee as he reads.

You sit across the room, watching him. It was very rare that you observed General Obi-Wan Kenobi in such concentration, and you don’t want to disturb him now. Whatever he reads, it must be important, his face furrows in concentration.

You, yourself, read a fantasy novel about wispy fairies and gallant knights saving a country with their metal sword and magic. Not exactly the most productive reading a soldier of the Clone Wars should be reading.

But hey, it is your down time, your private time.

Course, the words on your data pad don’t do as much for you as the sight of the General across the room. You try to keep your focus on your own novel, but your eyes keep wandering back to him as he reads.

He shifts positions, dropping one leg, and lets out a sigh. He stretches his arms and leans back in his chair.

You avert your eyes away, staring with all your might at the data card in front of you. You don’t want to let him know you were staring, so you focus on the data card, and in a moment you found yourself back in the story about the knights and the fairies and the magic.

You hear footsteps vaguely in the back of your mind, walking through the smallish archive, but you pay them no mind. You’d never told any of your friends that you occasionally see General Kenobi in the archive in the late evenings, such as tonight. Because if you did, you knew your friends would be spending more time than usual in the archive, and gossip about the General.

That was not their business.

They are not going to interrupt your reading time.

So you keep it a secret.

Whether anyone knows that General Kenobi spends time down here, you don’t know, no one has ever said anything to you about such habits. This is one more way to prove that probably no one knows that he spends his nights here.

And that makes you happy.

This was your little secret meeting with the General.

Some nights, you wonder what he reads that keeps him so intensely focused on the data cards in front of him; you imagine many novels about war and fighting and planning-type novels. His military mind astounded everyone, and you always imagined that he got his great insight from novels.

That’s where your inspiration came from.

Not war novels, by any means, but for your own stories that keep you writing almost as much as you read. You have published a few novels, but none ever did well, but it was just exciting to see your name on the data cards, and your name in the files of archives all over the galaxy.

In fact, you noticed in the archive here a copy of all three of your novels were on file. That made you giggle a little.

However, the copies have only been checked a few times, and then for only short amounts of time, so you doubt that anyone on the ship bothered to read past the first few pages.

“Ahh hemm,” you hear over your shoulder.

You look up. “Oh, General Kenobi,” you say, jerking up and saluting.

He smiles at you. “You’ve been in here as long as I have,” he says with a smile and a quick return of a salute. “You need not bother with formalities.”

“Sorry, sir.”

He smirks. “How about when we’re here, you can call me Obi-Wan, and I can call you by your name,” he says your name, and you blush. You had no idea General Kenobi even knew your name.

“Sounds fair,” you say. You can’t help but look back down at your data card, then back up. Those green-blue eyes stare down at you with an intensity you’ve never known.

“May I?” he asks, gesturing to the seat across from you.

“Of course,” you say, holding your hand out. “Was there something I can do for you?”

“Yes, I was wondering if you had the files for A Night of Dreams?”

You arch your eyebrow. A Night of Dreams was the name of the novel you were reading. “I do,” you say. You can’t help but smile. Never would you have thought that Kenobi would be interested in such stories.

“Does that request amuse you?” Kenobi asks.

“Well, I wouldn’t have thought you would be interested in it. It’s such a far cry from the serious work you usually read…”

“Who says I read for work?”

“Well, uh, I just…”

“What?”

“You’re always so serious when you read… I just assumed it was serious work.”

He smiles. “I do have a tendency to keep a somber face when I read. But believe me, when I come in here, I read for pleasure, not for work.”

You have to smile at that one. “Me too.”

“I can tell.”

“Huh?” You say, your posture stiffening.

“You smile when you read. I can tell when you find stories amusing, when they bring you to tears, when they get intense. You radiate the emotions of the story through your face and a bit through the Force.”

You blush. You’ve been told before you get too intense in your reading, but to know you project not only with your face, but through the Force as well! How embarrassing!

“I hope I didn’t annoy you,” you say, glancing at your hands again.

“At first, I must admit, it was a bit unnerving. Especially when you read something intense, I kept feeling some serious anxiety, but it wasn’t until I realized it was coming from you and your intense pleasure of reading that I understood.” He smiles at you. “I suppose I could learn to get into stories as well as you do, it may help me relax more.”

“Well, this story is really good,” you say, waving your data card. “If you want it, you can read it. I’ll wait until later to finish it.” It will make you crazy to wait to finish the sequel, you just started it last night, and you’ve gotten about sixty pages in so far, but you don’t want to offend the General either.

“No, that’s not necessary, I shall wait until you are done.” He stands up, smiles at you, and then heads out of the room.

“Goodnight,” you say as he walks to the doorway.

“Goodnight.” And he’s gone.

* * * * *

The next day zoomed by, and you found yourself in the archive again. This time, however, you are alone. No General Kenobi to keep you distracted from your novel. Nonetheless, you wish he would show up.

You’ve been stewing on an idea all day, and you want to talk to the General about it. You try not to read the novel at all, waiting around for him to show up, but he does not come in.

You let out a sigh, realizing you had been hoping all day you’d get to talk to him more tonight, your private time with the General, but alas, like any other guy you know, it didn’t materialize.

How many times had you met someone and hoped to see them again, and it didn’t work out? More times than you could count. You let out a sigh and get up from your chair.

And get almost run over by General Kenobi.

“Oh, General,” you say.

“I am sorry,” he says, smiling. “I had a long meeting tonight. Are you leaving?”

“Well, I was thinking about it,” you say.

“Oh.”

“Actually,” you say, bowing your head, “There was something I was going to ask you.”

“What is that?”

“Well,” you say, unable to stop fidgeting while you speak, and you clasp your hands around your data card, your fingers running over the screen. “Since we, uh, well, both want to read this novel, what would you say to a nightly reading?”

“What do you mean?”

“We could take turns, reading each night?” You look up at him, and he has a peculiar look on his face, and you bow your head again. It was a stupid idea, and you feel yourself blush. After all, why would the General be interested in something as dumb as reading aloud a book?

“I would love to,” the General said.

You blink. “It’s a dumb idea, I know, I’m sorry to bother you with it,” and you turn to leave.

“I said,” he says, grabbing your arm. “I’d love to.”

You look up at him. “What? You would?”

“Certainly. Why don’t we start now?” He directs you to the couch in the far corner of the room, the one he always sits on.

“This is the most comfortable place in the room.”

You sit down, the couch is comfortable. Much more so than the other chairs around the room.

“Wow, this is nice,” you say, scooting back onto the couch. You bring your leg up underneath you. “Shall I go first?” You say, keying the story back to the beginning.

“Be my guest,” the General says. He leans back on the couch, sitting on the far end away from you, and reclines himself on the couch. His legs dangle off the edge of the couch as he rests his head in the nook at the corner, and crosses his arms over his body.

You smile, and shift so you can look at him just a bit, and you start to read.

“Rennati stared at the darkened horizon with fear and loathing. She knew the time had come for her to face the warlord Karathel…”

An hour later, you’d read the first chapter of A Night of Dreams, and you look over to see General Kenobi’s eyes shut.

“General?” You say, not sure if you should wake him.

“I told you to call me Obi-Wan when we are in here,” he said, bringing his head up.

“Was it okay? Did I do good enough?”

He smiles, “You were perfect. I could see all the details of everything. You are very poetic when you read.”

You blush, and look down at the card.

“Probably why you write novels, eh?” Kenobi asks as he sits up.

“How did you know about that?”

He raised an eyebrow to her. “It is not hard to find out such information. Especially for a General.”

You raise your eyebrow. “You had me checked out?”

“I read your personnel file. I read every personnel file of all my crew.”

“Oh.” Of course he did, that was part of his job. You feel rather stupid.

He glances at the crono on the wall. “I suppose I should be getting to my chamber for bed. Shall we meet here again tomorrow night? I will read the next chapter.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” you say.

“Good, I shall see you tomorrow night.” He stands up and heads for the door. “Oh, there was something I wanted to tell you as well.”

“Yes?”

“I have always appreciated you not telling any of the other female crew about my time here.”

“How did you know?” You ask.

His green-blue eyes dance at you. “This place would be packed every night if some of the females on this crew knew that I spent my nights here.”

You shrug. “I would loose my privacy as well if I said anything.” He turns to face the door, then looks back at you.

“Well, I appreciate it, whatever your motivations,” he says and turns and walks out the door.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Oh Force! You just read the first chapter of a book to General Kenobi…. And tomorrow night, he wants to read more!!

EEECCCKKK….

* * * * *

The day moves slowly, but eventually, you have dinner, and wind up back in the archive. This time you curl up with a small writing pad, and work on your latest novel attempt. The premise to this one is simple, a bounty hunter is in love with a governor of a world, and they want to be together. You work through the first few chapters, getting a decent page down when the door to the archive opens.

“Another novel?” The General asks from behind you. He’s decked out in his dark Jedi robe, and you can hardly see his twinkling eyes.

“Yeah,” you say, closing your pad down. “I am actually under contract still with my publisher, and I have to get a new novel to them by the end of the year.” You stretch and rub your eyes.

“What do they pay you for these novels?”

You shrug, it’s close to indentured servitude, but you don’t want to reveal that to the General. “Not enough to live on, but it makes a nice bonus.”

He nods his head. “Well, are you ready for your reading?” He pulls from behind his back two bottles of water, and hands one to you.

“Oh, thank you, that’s very sweet,” you say, taking the water and drinking a long tug off it. You didn’t realize you were so parched.

“You are welcome. Shall we?” He heads to the couch, taking a seat at the far end. “Do you mind if I remove my boots? I really would like to stretch out.”

“No problem,” you say, and he removes them. You sit down on the far end, and he stretches out his legs. His legs graze your knee, and you jerk at the touch.

“Oh,” he says, sitting up and moving his feet. “Is it okay if I stretch out?”

You glance at him, his feet dangling over the edge. “Only if I can too,” you say, shifting on the couch so that your legs run up the side, near the back of the couch. You both wind up facing each other, and you shift so that you don’t touch his legs.

“So where’s the novel?” Obi-Wan asks.

“Oh!” you say, and jump up, grabbing the data card off the table where you’d be sitting before. In a second you are back at the couch, and hold the card out for the General.

As you climb back on the couch, you almost trip over the General’s legs, and you can feel the taunt muscles under the loose-fitting Jedi garb. Suddenly, thoughts of removing those pants and seeing those legs creeps into your mind, and you jerk back from the touch, as though burned.

You can’t have thoughts like that! He’s the General! And a Jedi! He’ll know what you’re thinking before you do!

“I’ll just sit here on the end,” you say, sitting back down at the foot of the couch. His feet stop only a few inches from your leg, and you shift away, not wanting to allow any accidental touch.

Kenobi shifts as well, this time, pivoting so that he’s sitting up. He keeps sitting sideways on the couch, but he swings one leg off the couch.

“I wish we had some pillows,” he says, wadding up his cloak and putting it under his back. He picked up his water and took a sip. “Shall I begin?”

You nod your head, and tuck a leg under you.

General Kenobi’s words are like satin streaming across the poetry of the story, and in a moment, you’re lost once again in Rennati’s quest.

Hours slip by before you realize that the General has stopped reading. You’ve relaxed more into the couch, and so had the General, he stretched almost completely out on the couch, his feet resting in your lap. You also realize that your right leg is stretched out up the General’s side, and his hand rests on your foot.

You look up at the General, and you see that he’s nodded off on the couch, his hand clasping the data card to his chest. From the crono on the wall, you can tell that about four hours have slipped by. The chapters in the book are short, and you assume that if he finished the chapter, he would have at least three hours ago.

You stretch, rocking your head back and forth, and you know your back is going to kill you tomorrow. You know you had better get back to your quarters, and that the General should get to his.

Still, you hesitate waking him. He looks so beautiful, sleeping so peacefully on the couch. His chest rises slowly, and his body is still, deep in sleep.

You run your hand up his leg, trying to rouse him, but you can’t help the feeling of his muscular legs under the clothes, and you rub a bit on the stiff muscles. In a moment, you’re in a full-on massage of the General’s calves, one hand on each leg, then switching back and forth between the legs. You slide down his leg to his foot, rubbing the souls, and the General jerks.

“You do that very well,” he says, his eyes wide.

“Oh!” You say, jerking, and jumping off the couch.

He smiles. “It is not often that I get a leg and foot massage, thank you.”

You look at the crono, then back at the General. “I was just, uh, well, trying to wake you…”

“And things got a bit out of control?” His eyebrow arching.

You feel your cheeks flame crimson, and you look away. “I’m sorry, sir, I shouldn’t have ever, I’m so sorry, I will take whatever reprimand you have in mind.”

He smirks. “Fine, then, you want a reprimand? Here it is. Be here tomorrow night, same time, and you have to read another chapter of A Night of Dreams to me.”

You smile. “I was planning on being here anyway.”

“Well then,” he says, “you bring the water and pillows tomorrow, then.”

You nod your head. “Deal.”

* * * * *

The day seems to drag horridly. Or maybe it has something to do with the fact that you can’t wait to get to the archive tonight. You stare at the crono, and you can’t seem to will the minutes to go by any faster.

Your girlfriend Sal asks you at lunch why you’re so agitated today, but you blow her off, telling her you have cramps. Anything to keep from telling her why you’re really dying for this day to end. How can you tell her that you’re going to meet the General in the archive, and you’re going to read to him?

Force, what would that sound like?

A fantasy, that’s what that would sound like.

So you say nothing.

You don’t usually see the General during the day. All of his visits to the engineering corridors are usually when you are not on duty, or if he does pop in, it’s usually for something to see your superiors about.

So you almost scream when he walks up to your station and says your formal rank and last name.

“General Kenobi,” you say, saluting him.

He returns the salute in crisp perfection, then leans down a bit closer to your station. “I may be a bit late this evening, I have a meeting.” His voice is low, and the whisper is just loud enough for you to hear.

“Understood, sir,” you say. “Shall our meeting be postponed an hour?” You ask, trying to sound as formal as possible in case any listening ears are around. You glance up and see one of your girlfriends staring at you and the General, but you try not to act like you notice.

“Yes, that would work. Thank you Ensign.” He stands up straight again. “As you were.” He walks away.

You let out a breath. A whole hour later? What will you do with yourself? Aaaggghhh! The waiting! Will this day never end?

“Okay, girl, spill it!” Your girlfriend Sal says, standing over your station.

“What?”

“What was that all about?” She asks, dropping to her knees and scooting in closer to you.

“Nothing,” you say, returning to your consol to finish your modifications.

“General Kenobi doesn’t come down here unless it’s important, and he bypassed the Lieutenant completely, came straight to you, spoke to you, then left! You’d better tell me what’s going on!” Sal practically salivates as she speaks.

“We met the other day in a meeting, and I ran a few things by him, and tonight we were supposed to have a more formal meeting about it, and he had to cancel.” You are quite impressed with your ability to so fully lie to your friend.

“Oh,” she says, and gets up. “And I thought it would be good.” She shakes her head. “I should have known that a bookworm like you wouldn’t have any really good gossip about the Great One anyway.”

You bite your lip to keep from spouting off any vile comment to Sal’s rather nasty one. She has a tendency to say exactly what she thinks and never considers how it would sound to others. Most of the time, you ignore her rudeness, but today, that cut to the quick.

“And why not?”

She looks back at you. “What would the General want with a bookworm like you?” And she heads off back to her post.

* * * * *

You soak in a tub, Sal’s words ringing in your head.

What would the General want with a bookworm like me, anyway? You certainly are not the prettiest girl in the fleet. And General Kenobi could have any girl he chose. You massage your hair with the conditioning oil you brought from Alderaan as you consider that.

Well, he could have anyone, but he did say he liked that I didn’t tell anyone about his time in the archive.

That was a plus.

Then there was the fact that he would be with me tonight.

Me!

You giggle.

Sal is an idiot. You climb out of the tub feeling a bit better, and dress in a comfortable blouse and pants. You grab a bag out of your closet, and pack it with a few things you want to bring to the reading tonight.

* * * * *

When Obi-Wan arrives, you are ready for him. You have two large bottles of water, a bag of snack corn, and a blanket and pillow.

“Moving in?” He asks as he takes the bottle of water you hand him.

You pull from your bag a small white square, hand it to him, and he starts to laugh as he snaps the seal. The pillow fills with air and he sits down on the couch again, making himself comfortable. You adjust your own pillow and set the snack corn in between you both.

“I was reprimanded, after all,” you say, smiling. “Besides, I had the munchies tonight.”

“Well, it’s perfect,” he says, unlacing his boots.

“Making yourself at home?” You ask, raising an eyebrow and mocking him as well.

He laughs. “Well, if you do not mind, I would share your blanket with you,” he stretches out on the couch, his feet winding up next to your left hip, and you stretch your own legs out. Under the blanket, your leg grazes his, and he reaches down and moves your left leg just a bit as he shifts.

“There we go,” he says.

You pull out the data card and get to reading, even though the feeling of Obi-Wan’s leg next to yours is unnerving, and the heat from his body is so intense that you lose your place in the first few paragraphs.

“What is the matter?” Obi asks.

You smile and try to hide your blushing cheeks. “I’m okay.”

He stares at you long and hard. “Are you sure?”

You look down at the blankets, then back up at him. “I’m sorry sir, it’s just we’re so, uh, well, informal right now, I’m not used to it.”

He smiles at you. “Would you rather I didn’t share the blanket with you?”

You shrug. “It’s not that. Well, maybe it is a bit.” The thoughts of Sal’s comments earlier flood through your mind, and you feel very self conscious.

“What is it?”

You let out a sigh. Somehow, his three little words released a floodgate that you didn’t know you held shut. “A friend of mine said something today that upset me, that’s all.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” you say, not wanting to bother him with ship gossip. “It’s just that when you came down to engineering today, one of my friends wanted to know what you wanted, and I made up a story about a meeting I had with you.”

“Well, that is not a total fabrication, we did have a meeting.”

“No, it’s not that that bothers me. It’s what she said afterwards.”

“What?”

“She said that it didn’t surprise her that it was a formal meeting. That you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with a bookworm like me, anyway.” You don’t look up at the General as you speak, afraid that he is laughing or smirking or anything that might encourage Sal’s thoughts.

“Well, point of fact, I am here, with you, sharing this blanket, now, when I could be with any number of females on this ship, or even some males, I do suspect.”

“Ewwww,” you say, the thought of the General spending romantic time with a man grossed you out.

Romantic time? Is that what this is? Your cheeks start to flush.

Obi-Wan laughs. “Well, people, male and female forget that as a Jedi, I can hear their thoughts very well, especially when they project them.”

You blush again, wondering if he heard your thoughts just now about romantic time.

He raises his eyebrow. “I heard something about romantic time, and wondering if this is romantic time.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “You shouldn’t do that, it’s rude.”

He laughs again. His laughter is one of the sweetest sounds you’ve ever heard. That combined with those amazing eyes makes your heart flutter in your chest.

“Sorry to be so nosey. However, I will tell you I have greatly enjoyed these last two evenings with you, reading this book. And yes, it is a touch romantic, especially tonight with the pillows and the blanket.” His hand grazes your foot. “And right at this moment, there is no other place I would rather be in the galaxy.”

You blush. “Thank you.” His hand slips under the blanket, and his fingers run up and down your foot. You jitter under his touch, but not in a bad way. He tickles the bottom of your foot a bit, and you burst out in giggles, pulling your feet up.

His beard frames his pouty face, and the glimmer in his eyes making him look far younger than his mid-thirties age.

“Now, would you mind reading? I want to know what happens to Rennati.”

You grin. “Of course.” You tentatively stretch your legs back out. “As long as you don’t tickle.”

“Fair enough.” His hand still remains under the blanket and he rests it on your shin as he scoots down more to where he’s almost laying down. You do the same, and your feet wind up near his shoulder. His feet are in almost the same place next to you, both your hips somehow fitting side by side on the couch, and you start to read. Obi-Wan places the bowl of snack corn in the middle between you both, so you both don’t have to stretch too far to reach it.

You finish the chapter with a stretch, and grab a handful of the last of the snack corn. However, Obi-Wan does the same, and your hands meet in the bowl, fighting for the same pieces.

You both start to laugh as your fingers become tangled together in the bowl. You resist the urge to pull the bowl away from him and take all for yourself, when all the leftover pieces start floating in the air over the bowl.

“That’s no fair,” you say.

One piece coasts through the air, stopping just in front of your face, and you lean forward, catching it with your tongue and chomping down.

You think for a second you hear a groan come from the General, but his face reveals nothing.

Another piece comes forward toward you, stopping just in front of your mouth, and you do the same, almost licking it out of mid air and pulling it into your mouth. This time, for certain, you hear something come from the General.

“Sir, are you okay?”

He looks at you and a piece flies toward him, and he catches it on his tongue, much in the manor you just did, and an epiphany hits you.

Watching him stick his tongue out and lick the piece of snack corn out of the air was by far one of the most erotic things you had ever seen in your life. You can’t help but lick your lips.

Explains the noises he was making.

Another piece of corn flies toward you, and this time, you take great care in sticking your tongue out, catching it and pulling it in your mouth, this time not taking your eyes off the General while you do it.

You see his jaw clench under his beard, and his lips part. You realize the two of you are still holding hands in the popcorn bowl, and for a second, you try to pull away, but he’s too quick for you.

In a flash, the snack corn bowl is on the floor, the remaining pieces tossed somewhere out of your line of sight, but not that you’d notice. All you see is the General. He pulls you up his body so that you’re laying on top of him, your face just millimeters from his.

His hand tangles in your hair, and he pulls you into a hot wet kiss. He opens his mouth, and you swear you’ve joined the Force. The taste of his mouth is angelic, but what he does with that mouth and that tongue is far more sithly than anything you’ve ever felt before.

You both groan, his hand fighting against the blanket to come out and run up and down your back. You put your hands in his soft hair and touch the back of his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. His scratchy beard feels sensual on your face.

You run your lips up and down his neck, tasting the flesh under his chin, and he groans. You taste the musky scent of his warm flesh, nibbling on his ear and making him groan with little sounds deep in his chest. You slide back up his neck, kissing his beard all the way around to his lips, when he pulls you into another deeper kiss. This one is even hotter and more passionate than the last one. His hands remain in your hair, as he pulls you tight against him, searing you in the kiss.

He breaks from the kiss, panting for breath.

Course, so are you.

His hand runs down your face. “My dear,” he kisses your cheek, “sweet,” he plants another gentle kiss on your other cheek, “scribe,” he kisses your forehead. “I would stay here all night, but I have an early meeting.”

You glance at the crono on the far wall. Knowing that he’s right, you have an early duty shift as well, you try to ignore the flames of passion that have been swept up by this man. This General. This Jedi.

You look into his eyes. “I understand.” You start to pull away, but he pulls you back down on him, and starts kissing you again.

This time, the kiss is still fiery, but he doesn’t just kiss your lips. He wanders down your neck, tasting your throat, your ears, anything he can get close to. You moan with every touch, every kiss, his lips feel like raw energy burning into your soul. His lips travel back up your neck to your face.

“Really,” he says, kissing you again, “We must go.” Still, that doesn’t stop him from kissing you yet again, and running his hands down your back, holding you down on top of him.

“General,” you say, “really, we must be going.” You try to stop kissing him, but you can’t. He just tastes so good! You pull your body up off him, almost having to pry his fingers out of your hair, and he frowns at you, that same pouty face he had before, and you resist every urge to lie back down on him and continue these kisses.

He lets out a sigh. “I know.” A twinkle glistens in his eye. “Can not blame a man for trying, though.”

You both stand, and you start packing up your bag, the pillows and the blanket get folded down tightly and stuffed in the bag, the water bottles dropped into a recycler, and the snack corn shoved back in your bag.

You don’t know if you want to even look at him, for fear the kisses were just some dumb fantasy you dreamt up to keep yourself amused while reading in the archive.

His hand touches your shoulder. “I assure you, this is no dream.”

“Rude,” you say, then you smile. He pulls you in his arms, and holds you in a fierce hug, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Tomorrow night, then?” He asks as he releases you just enough to look in your eyes.

“Of course. We’ve read as far as I have. Now I want to know what happens to Rennati as well.”

“Good. What time is your duty shift over?”

“Sixteen hundred, I think.”

He nods his head, and you can tell from the scrunched brow that he’s trying to figure something out. He blinks, then smiles. “We can meet here early, say eighteen hundred, if you do not mind. I shall read a chapter, and you can read one.”

“What about food? I get a bit cranky if I don’t eat.”

“I’ll provide a meal.”

You nod your head. “Now that does sound fairly romantic, eating and reading.” You laugh, thinking that what you just said doesn’t sound really that romantic at all.

“Not when you say it like that, it does not.” He puts an arm around your shoulder. “Now, shall I walk you to your quarters?”

You raise your eyebrow. “Do you really want to? That’s several decks out of your way.”

“I do not mind.”

The two of you leave the archive and head down a corridor toward a lift. This time of night, the halls of the ship are fairly deserted, and everything is very quiet in the white and gray ship.

“So how did you become a writer?” He asks as you walk.

“Out of necessity,” you say, shrugging your shoulders.

“Could you explain that one?”

You start to speak, but one of the clones walks down the corridor, saluting the General. He replies with a short salute, but keeps his attention on you.

“Don’t they bother you?” You ask, not looking at the clone.

“Why would they?”

“They’re so, well, unnatural,” you say softly.

Obi-Wan shrugs, “They are a necessity.” Then he starts to smile. “There is that word again.”

“Yes. My necessity and theirs are two different things, though.”

“So tell me yours.”

You smile. “My head will explode if I don’t write.”

“Excuse me?”

“My head will explode. It’s kinda like if I don’t get the words out, the phrases out, I get a bit wacky, it keeps me calm. Like reading does.”

“Ahh, so it is a form of meditation for you?”

“Something like that. Meditation is a way to balance oneself, so yes, then it is.”

“How long have you been writing?”

“I sold my first book three years ago, and I have a contract that I have to turn a new on in every year for the next two, then I’ll be free of that contract. Course, I’ll renegotiate a new one when that contract is done.”

“How many novels have you finished?”

“About six.”

He arches his eyebrow. “And why are you worried?”

“I like to stay ahead, and give them the best that I can by the deadline.”

“Oh.”

They walked on for a few more minutes, and stop at a lift. Stepping inside, Obi-Wan gestures for you to enter in front of him, then he steps inside and stands next to you as you order the lift to take you to your floor. His hand slips into yours, and you feel yourself starting to swoon again. You want to pinch yourself. Obi-Wan Kenobi, General Kenobi himself, is walking you to your room. He’s holding your hand!

EEECCKKK……….

“So why are you here?”

In this lift with you? “Because you wanted to walk me to my room.”

He smirks. “No, why are you on this ship?”

“Oh, uh, well, as an engineer, it comes with the job description. I became a draftee with the ship, since I helped work on it from its construction.” You glance over your shoulder at him, and see that he’s watching you from a slightly sideways angle.

“What about you General? Why are you here and not being a Jedi?”

“That is a complicated story that I would rather not get into at the moment.”

You nod your head. “I understand. So what’s it like?”

“What?”

The lift stops and the door slides open. The two of you step out, and you continue your conversation.

“Being a Jedi?”

“It is one of the hardest things I can imagine anyone doing.”

“So why do you do it?”

“Because I was chosen to.”

You nod your head. “Kinda like writing,” you say. Something you always felt was that you were chosen to do the writing that you do, that the stories were just out there waiting for you to hear them, waiting for you to transcribe them for the galaxy to read.

“In a way, yes.”

You reach your chamber door. You both pause at the entrance, and you want to invite him in, but you know that if you do it will spell certain doom for both your desires to be to your duty shifts on time. The halls remain rather quiet, except for a few passersby as you stand in the hall, awkward about what to say, and what is appropriate.

“I shall see you tomorrow,” Obi-Wan says, and places a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Yes sir,” you say, smiling at him.

With that he’s gone.

* * * * *

You sit in the cafeteria at lunch, writing pad in hand, working on your latest novel attempt. The noise in the room creates enough of a dull roar for you to block everything out around you and focus completely on your latest writing adventure.

Nothing ever bothers you when you’re in crowded places writing.

Until someone drops a tray on your table.

You jerk your head up, just in time to see Sal taking a seat, along with Tala, Merkin, and Geoffrey.

“Spill it.” Sal says leaning toward you.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, looking up at your friends.

Sal rolls her eyes. “Merkin talked to Neva this morning, who had it on good authority from Wash that Krysa saw you last night in front of your room with General Kenobi. Kissing you!”

You roll your eyes and take a sip off your water.

“From what Neva told me this morning, the General was practically raping you against the wall!” Merkin says.

You almost spit your water across the table. “You all have got to be brain dead,” you say, hoping that your cheeks are not flush with embarrassment. How could such rumors fly around so quickly? And about you ? And be so terribly wrong????

“So dispense the rumors, then!” Sal says. “You know,” she says, leaning over to Merkin and Geoffrey, “The Great One did come down to her station yesterday to speak to her about some meeting they supposedly had.”

“By the Force, you all are terrible!” You snap. You stand up. “I do not have to listen to this!”

“So tell us the truth,” Geoffrey said, his first words since setting down. “Let us in on your big secret.” His eyebrows arched, and he looked almost as feminine as the other to girls.

He’s probably one of the men that the General worried about romantic situations with… you smirk to yourself.

You let out a sigh. “You want to know what happened last night? Fine.” You drop back into your seat again. “General Kenobi and I had a meeting, and the meeting ran a bit longer than expected. Since we both didn’t want to end the meeting, but we both knew we had to get up early for our duty shifts, he walked me back to my quarters to continue talking. When we reached my room, he said good night, and disappeared around a corner. Nothing happened!”

The three of them stared at her, but didn’t say anything for a full minute.

“Knew it couldn’t be true,” Sal said. “Why would the General want her, when he could have any one of us?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You snap at her.

“What were you doing when we walked up here?”

“What?”

“What were you doing?”

“I was working on my novel.”

Sal looks at the other two. “See, she was writing…”

“So? What’s that got to do with anything?”

“She’s so prudish, even she doesn’t know… now that’s sad,” Merkin says. The others break out in laughter, and you clench your fists. Part of you wants to blab about making out with the General just last night, curled up on the couch in the archive, but you stop yourself.

An image of General Kenobi slips into your mind, and you can hear him telling you he appreciated your silence.

Well, now certainly was the time to be silent. Because if you do what you want to do, certainly they’ll never believe it, especially since you just fabricated a whole scenario that they are buying.

At that moment, a tall golden protocol droid approaches you.

“Miss?” the droid says. “I am See-Seventeen, and I have a message for you,” he hands you the data card in his hand.

“Thank you,” you say, and the three at the table stare at you, as well as the droid. “Was there anything else?” you ask the droid.

“I was instructed to wait for a reply.”

You nod your head. “Of course.” You look at the others at the table. “Do you mind?”

The three of them look away, and you click the message open.

Meet me in my quarters instead of the archive.

OW K

You nod your head, your heart racing in your chest. You carefully think of your reply before saying anything to the droid, because you can tell that your companions are watching.

“That change is acceptable,” you say to the droid. Your heart strums in your chest and you feel your body rushing around, and you can taste the kisses of the General all over again on your lips.

“What was that?” Sal asks.

“Nothing.”

“Funny, I don’t believe you.” Sal says, crossing her arms.

You shrug, “Believe what you want. I have to return to work.” You stand up, tray in hand and head away from the group. You lick your lips as you walk away, and you can’t help but wonder just how much reading will get done in the General’s quarters.

* * * * *

That night, dressed in one of your favorite skirts and blouse combos, you step up to the door to the General’s suite. Your hands shake as you press the door chime. The hall is fairly quiet tonight, and you wonder if any of your companions from lunch and their massive network of gossips saw you come out in your ensemble.

You had considered wearing your uniform, just to make sure that no one assumes anything out of the ordinary when you headed to the General’s room. Still part of you hopes that someone in the network sees you, dressed in civilian garb, heading into the General’s room.

That will get the gossip mill running.

The door slides open, and General Kenobi stands there, dressed in his own civilian garb, a navy shirt and matching pants. He smiles at you as he gestures for you to come in.

You step inside the suite, marveling at the size of his quarters. Yours are small, standard issue military bunks, with a tiny refresher. It’s obvious by the large parlor and dining area in the rear that Generals get a bit nicer accommodations.

“Nice place you got here,” you say.

He nods his head. “I like it, but I truly do not need this much room.”

You shrug. “When you have a standard issue bunk, you can appreciate this much room. My quarters are stacked with things everywhere.”

“Maybe you need a new room, I could arrange for you to get a larger bunk.”

You grin. “That would be taking advantage of you, and I think that could cause problems.” You think back to lunch, and your jaw locks.

“What is it?”

“Oh, the gossip is running heavy today.” You say, slumping down in one of the chairs near the door.

“What gossip is that?”

“The ones that say you were almost raping me last night against the door to my quarters. Among other small pieces of gossip I’ve heard today.”

Kenobi rolls his eyes. “It is amazing what people will entertain themselves with while on a ship.” He takes your hand. “Do not worry about it. Rumors are just that, rumors.”

You squeeze his hand back. “Can’t help it, though, don’t want to see you get damaged because of wild minds shipside.”

Obi-Wan shrugs. “There’s nothing I can do to control what they say, so I try not to worry about it. Nor should you.” He pats your knee. “Are you hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Good, I have quite a feast for us here tonight.” He leads you into the dining area, and you see the spread of foods all over the table. At one end are two plates and silverware, just waiting to be picked up.

“I thought buffet style would be good, then we can read and eat in the living area, is that okay?”

“Sounds wonderful.” The smells of the food intoxicate you, and you realize just how starving you are. Your stomach growls in agreement. You both dish up your plates and head into the living area, sitting on the mammoth over-stuffed couch in the center of the room.

You’re about to balance your plate on your lap, when Obi-Wan mutters something, and a small repulsor-tray hovers from across the room and stops in front of you.

“What’s this?”

“I forgot to get them out,” he says, setting his own plate on the tray in front of him. “They are quite handy.”

“And so is the Force, I gather,” you say, setting down your plate. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“Oh, of course!” he says, jumping up. “I forgot beverages.” He hops up and heads into the galley. He comes back with two glasses filled with water. “I hope water is okay?”

“Sounds great,” you say, accepting the cup. “Shall I start reading now, or do you want to wait until we’ve eaten?”

“Wait,” he says, “I do not want to choke on my food.”

You have to laugh at that one. You dig into the food, and find the meal to be rather good, wonderful flavors to tempt your palette.

“Did you make all of this?”

“I should claim that I did, but no, See-Seventeen cooked most of it.”

“A droid made this?” You ask, holding up a bit of the perfectly shaped Alderaanian star-bird.

Obi-Wan shrugs. “He assisted. We work together quite well.”

“I see. I’m not a cook. Can’t do it to save my life. We don’t want to talk about my omelets.”

“Why not?”

“They look more scrambled and burnt than omelet-like.”

“How do you burn omelets?”

“Believe me, it’s possible.”

Obi-Wan laughs. You can’t help but marvel at him. He’s so sweet and nice, and you don’t even think of him as your commander right now. He’s just a friend.

Well, at least, a friend who kisses like a God.

You start to blush, thinking about last night in the archive; his hands on you, his lips on yours, his body pressed against you…

“You are having naughty thoughts,” Obi-Wan says.

Now you really blush. “I’m sorry, my mind, it just, well, it just…”

He laughs again. He has the best laugh! “It is okay, I found myself a bit distracted today as well.”

You raise your eyebrow. “How distracted?”

“Distracted enough to almost call you to my office for a private meeting.” His eyebrow shoots up, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

That look can’t be good, you think. He resembles a predator stalking pray. Never a good sign.

You take a bite of food. Something to keep you from looking at him right now. Because right now, he looks like you are the main course in the meal.

“Well, it’s probably a good thing you didn’t,” you say casually. “I don’t know that I would have been able to concentrate through the rest of my duty shift if you did.” You try your best to look casual, but for some reason, your hand cannot operate your fork anymore, and you keep dropping your food off it. Could be that uncontrollable shaking your hand keeps doing.

He takes a bite of his food, and chews slowly. “You think I would have let you finish your duty shift?”

EEEEEKKKKKK……

You blink, trying not to choke on your food.

He smiles wickedly as he takes another bite of his meal. His hair falls over his shoulder and you can’t help the urge to brush it out of his way, and you reach up and touch the spun satin of it.

He glances at you. “I see you didn’t dress in your uniform.” His eyes roam up and down you.

“I thought about it,” You say, pulling your hands away from him.

“But?”

You smile your own little wicked grin. “Maybe part of me wanted to start something in the rumor mill.”

“Well, I do not know if you are aware of it, but there is a security monitor that watches my quarters from the outside. And I do believe your friend Geoffrey has the current duty shift.”

Your eyes widen. Sure, part of you wouldn’t mind starting rumors, but still, knowing that tomorrow you will be the point of all gossip throughout this ship makes your stomach start to churn, and you are no longer hungry.

“Do not worry, there are no monitors in here.”

“That’s not what I was worried about.”

“Well, if you are concerned about being the talk of the ship, I could go speak to Geoffrey…”

“And what would you say? ‘Don’t pay any attention to my cameras outside my quarters tonight?’ That would only make him be even more diligent in his duties. Trust me, I know the man. And he’d be glad to spread any rumors about you, considering he would love to be in here with you as much as any female on this ship.”

Obi-Wan shudders, and you have to laugh at him.

“I am sorry,” he says. “I just cannot imagine an intimate relationship with a man, it makes me feel a bit strange.”

“I don’t think Geoffrey would pursue anything, unless you initiated the situation.” You take a sip off your water.

Still, you do wonder how many of the gossips now know you’re in Kenobi’s quarters. You silently chew, contemplating tomorrow’s assault of gossip.

However, part of you really doesn’t care. Your mind wanders to the book, and you know the reason you’re here. To read more in that novel, and part of you gets excited to see what happens to Rennati now.

Kenobi finishes his meal. “Do you want any more of your food?”

“I think I’m done.”

He takes your plate and his and places them in the galley. You pull out from your pocket the data pad that holds the rest of the novel in it, and you make yourself comfortable on the couch, removing your shoes and tucking your feet up underneath yourself. You adjust the pillows and clear your throat.

“Making yourself at home?” Kenobi asks.

“Gotta be comfortable when I read.”

Kenobi nods his head and sits down next to you on the couch. He looks you up and down.

“Do not start reading ahead…”

“I wasn’t!”

He smiles that wicked smile again. “Here, I have an idea.” He pulls you up off the couch and sits down, stretching his legs out. Then he takes the pillow you had put underneath you, floating it over to himself through the Force, and sticks it in his lap.

“Come here,” he says, patting the space between his legs.

You hesitate, but you also remember last night, and the closeness seems so intimate, so special and romantic, you can’t help yourself. You sit down, and the two of you adjust the pillow so that you both are comfortable.

You hold up the data pad and get ready to start reading, but you can’t help how comfortable and warm it feels sitting in his lap like this. You rest your elbows on his thighs, and you feel Obi-Wan start running his fingers through your hair.

“That feels nice,” you say as he keeps running his fingers through your hair.

“Wait,” he says, and he stops. A few seconds later, he has a brush and starts brushing through your tresses.

You tip your head back as he brushes, each pull relaxing you more and more, and you think you’re going to fall asleep in his lap.

He places a soft kiss on your head. “Do not fall asleep. It’s your turn to read.”

“Wait, I thought it was your turn,” you say.

“Hmmm,” he says, “I think you are right.” You hand him the data pad, and he takes a sip off his water. “Okay, here we go.”

With your head against his chest, his voice rumbles through the words and the story takes on an all new quality for you. You curl up into him, turning to the side just a little so you can hear his words but also feel his chest moving up and down, and feel the sounds the words make in his chest. You place one hand on his hip, and he shifts his legs so they’re wrapped around you.

His humming words go through the story, and soon you’re lost in the words, the story, and Obi-Wan’s arms.

A little while later, you become very aware of the General running his fingers through your hair as he reads. The touch is so minimal, but also so intimate, you are surprised you even noticed it.

Then again, you realize that you’re laying in the General’s lap, he’s reading a story to you, and he’s running his fingers through your hair!

EEECCKKK….

You have to smirk, and you snuggle down into his arms more, running your own hand across his chest as he reads.

“Comfortable?” Obi-Wan asks.

You nod your head. “Yeah, I am.”

He smirks, and hearing the sound with your head on his chest, it sounds wonderful.

“Are you okay?” You ask, shifting a bit more. You can feel his body underneath you, and it seems rather hot.

“I am fine,” he replies.

“You’re not too hot are you?”

“No, I am fine.”

“Okay, you feel rather warm, so I didn’t want to make you…” It dawns on you exactly where he is warm, and it’s not a warmth from heat. Well, not from being overly hot…

Well, even that’s not right exactly.

A blush creeps into your face. You look up at him.

He runs his hand along your cheek, and you are pretty sure you don’t want to move from your spot. The heat from below his waist gets hotter and you feel your own body responding to the heat. The warmth his hot body is conducting makes you shudder a bit.

“Chilled?” He tightens his grip around her.

“It’s not a chill,” you say.

“Are you nervous about something?”

Your mind flashes to the dirty thoughts of what might happen if you continue to lay here in the General’s lap. Not that you haven’t had such thoughts before, but never had you imagined that such a possibility could occur.

General Kenobi rubbing his hands over your body, feeling each part of your skin, you caress his skin…

Kenobi places a soft kiss on your forehead. “If you want to go back to reading, we can,” he says as he places a soft kiss on your head.

“I don’t know what I want,” you say. “I mean,” you pull away from him and turn so you’re sitting in his lap, but facing him. “I would love the chance to be more… uh, well…”

“I know what you mean.”

“But I don’t want to make things harder for you, or me.” You look down and realize your skirt has ridden up your thighs, and you shift to cover your legs more.

“Are you concerned about your shipmates?” His hand grazes your thigh.

“To an extent,” you say. After all, you are a bit. Nonetheless, you are more concerned about how the General will regard you after a sexual conquest.

Obi-Wan nodded his head. He leaned over, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. “Well, if you want, we can get back to reading.”

“Okay,” you say.

He hands you the data pad. “It is your turn.”

You twist so you are sitting upright, but the General puts his legs in your lap, and you start to read. Soon, you both are drawn into the story.

A full chapter later, you stretch, feeling incredibly tired all of a sudden. Kenobi shifts his position, rolling up on his side and that space he leaves on the couch is just big enough for you to curl up with him.

And it looks so inviting.

But would that be bad?

You lean down and his eyes are closed, his breathing slow and steady. His arm comes up, guiding you down into the open place between him and the back of the couch. You roll and shift until your back is to him, and he keeps his arm wrapped around you, and one of his legs slides over yours.

In a few minutes, Obi-Wan’s steady breathing has hypnotized you, and you tumble off to sleep.

* * * * *

A blaring alarm wakes you that you don’t remember setting. You sit upright, blinking and trying to figure out where in the Stars you are.

You’re in a bed.

But it’s not yours.

You feel very warm and comfortable. An arm reaches over you, and the alarm stops.

You glance down and see blond-brown hair and a beard.

EEEEECCCKKKKKKKK……………..

You jerk to get up, but the General pulls you back down to him. You look down enough to see you’re in your blouse, but not your skirt.

EEEECCCCKKKKKKKK………………..

“Good morning,” Obi-Wan says as he pulls you back down into the bed with him. From what you can tell, he’s only wearing a pair of sleep shorts, and his chest, oh it’s so warm…

“Uh, how did I get in here?”

He brought one arm up, resting his head on his hand. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I did not want to wake you last night, so I just scooped you up and brought you in here.”

“I don’t have all my clothes on,” you say.

“I did that.” He said with a wink. “But I kept my eyes closed the whole time.”

You shake your head.

The alarm goes off again.

“That is the most annoying alarm I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, it wakes me up.” With that, he pulls the covers back and starts to get out of bed. “We probably should get up and about. We’re going to be late for our duty shifts.”

You nod your head. And you have to get back to your quarters and change before going to your shift.

“I do not take long in the refresher, so if you want to clean up here, you can.”

You nod your head. “Okay.”

That may take care of one thing you need to do, but not everything.

How are you going to get back to your quarters without anyone noticing you in your civilian clothes? Won’t the gossips have a feast on that information…

“Oh, I have something else for you,” Obi-Wan said from the refresher. “Out on the couch should be your clothes.”

“My clothes?” You wander out into the living area and see your uniform, pressed and clean, ready to be slipped on, including a pile of undergarments. Granted, it’s the bra and panties set that you hate because they pinch, but still…

You blush at the sentiment, and walk back to the refresher door.

Sure enough, you hear it shut off, and the General shuffle around inside.

“And where did you get my uniform?” you ask, your hands crossed over your chest.

Kenobi emerges, naked and damp from the waist up, a towel around his hips, and your body heats up at the sight of him.

“Privilege of being a General.” He smiles a horrifically wicked grin at you, stepping just a bit closer. “Do you realize you are running around my domicile in a shirt and rather,” he looks down at your hip, “thin,” his hand runs up your thigh, “panties.” His hand rests on your hip, touching the edge of your thong panties. Your skin scalds under his touch.

EEECCCKKKK………..

You open your mouth to speak, but you are stopped by a kiss on your lips, a warm, wet kiss from the still damp General. He pulls you up next to him, his body fragrant from his cleansing, and you feel nothing but his warm soft skin against you.

He pushes you against the wall, his towel rubbing against your bare legs, and between that and the amazing warmth of his lips on yours, you feel your legs starting to weaken.

He pulls away, but still holds you up to the wall. You lips mimic the feel of his lips on yours, your eyes still shut, feeling the loss of the warmth.

Kenobi smirks.

You open your eyes. “What?”

“Never seen anyone mimic a kiss before,” he says with a grin.

Your cheeks flame bright red, and you think you’re going to faint from embarrassment.

“Well, they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.” He leans a bit closer. “Shall I give you more to mimic?”

“Uh huh.”

His lips meet yours again. The warm kiss sends amazing tingle through your body, and you want to get lost in the sensation more than anything in the galaxy…

“Excuse me, sir?”

Kenobi jerks away from you, looking over his shoulder. “Yes, See-Seventeen?”

The protocol droid stands only a few feet away, and it’s a wonder you didn’t hear the droid come up on you both.

Of course, you both were a bit distracted.

“Your holo-meeting with the Jedi Council is set to begin in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you,” he said, letting out an exasperated sigh. He looks at you, his finger running down your cheek. “I have to get dressed. The Council does not take kindly to unpunctuality.”

“Of course, neither does my lieutenant,” you say, and you step into his refresher.

In and out, you tell yourself as you hop in and quickly shower. The only cleansers in the shower are the musky scents that he uses to cleanse himself, but you have no choice. You can smell him on your skin even after you’ve washed off and start braiding your wet hair.

Pinning your hair up, you’re about to leave the refresher when you hear a knock at the door.

“Ma’am?” See-Seventeen says. “Here are your clothes.”

“Oh,” you crack the door open. “Thank you, See-Seventeen.” You grab the garments from him and dress. In a flash you’re out in the living area, looking for your shoes. Your standard issue work boots are evidentially still back in your quarters, and all you’re left with is your slip on shoes. You pray that your boss doesn’t notice them as you slip them on.

“Ma’am?” See Seventeen steps up to you again. “I shall launder and return your garments to your quarters, is that acceptable?”

“Of course,” you say. “That would be wonderful.”

You look back toward the bedroom, but Kenobi hasn’t emerged yet. You consider going back and saying good bye to him, but you hear the sound of his voice, and realize he’s already engaged in his meeting.

“See-Seventeen?” You call to the protocol droid. It reappears from the galley.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Please have the General contact me today when he has a moment to let me know if he wants to continue our readings tonight.” You shock yourself at how formal you sound to the droid. Maybe you were a queen in your last life?

“Yes ma’am. Anything else?”

You don’t want to sound too regal to the droid. “And the meal you prepared last night was amazing, thank you.”

“Why, you are quite welcome,” if the droid could have smiled, a large grin would have projected on his face, the happiness so evident in his voice.

You dart out the door toward your station.

* * * * *

Your day could not be any more miserable.

The rumor mills have certainly run rampant today. Geoffry certainly had his work cut out for him, and it seems that he managed to tell every single person on the ship about your evening with the General.

Everyone stares at you, pointing and whispering, and you try your best to ignore it. You remind yourself over and over what Obi-Wan said last night. You cannot control what others do, so do not worry about it.

Sal spends most of the morning glaring at you from across the engineering room, and you can tell from her posturing she’s making snide comments any time someone takes the time to listen to her.

As you’re relieved for your break, you hear your Lieutenant call out your name.

“A word, please?” he says, motioning you into his small, cramped office. The dark room is illuminated with a small reflector lamp hanging on the wall that ignites as he walks in. Scattered everywhere are data cards, hand written parchment notes, and holograms displaying schematics about the cruiser.

“Yes sir?” you say, standing at attention.

“Close the door,” he says. You do as you’re told, and he motions for you to take a seat across from him. He’s an older man, well, older than you. But there’s always been a dignity about working with this engineer that you have always enjoyed and admired.

“What I have to say is very simple and straightforward.” He leans back in his chair. “I don’t know what you’re relationship with the General is. Frankly I don’t care. The rumor mill around here is spreading some wild tales today, everything from you spending the night last night with the General to him screwing you against the wall outside of his apartment.”

Your face flushes red, partly embarrassment, and partly anger. Your hands start to shake.

“Rumors are just that, sir,” you say. “Rumors.” You expel a breath of relief knowing that your voice didn’t crack when you said that.

He nods his head. “Good to hear. To be honest, I don’t care what kinds of liberties the General takes, nor do I care about yours. However, I’m saying this as a friend, not your boss.” He leans forward. “Keep your private life private. And do not, under any circumstances, let anything in your private life affect your work.”

You smile at him, relieved that he didn’t just want to know the details, and pleased that this wasn’t some other form of reprimand. “Of course, sir.”

He nods his head. “Now go take your break.”

You stand to leave, when he says your name again. “Sir?”

“I know I’m not the General, but if you have any problems with the rumor mill,” he says, gesturing over his shoulder out to the staff in the engineering room, “let me know. If there’s anything I can do, I will be glad to help.”

“Thank you, sir. I try to ignore everything as best I can.”

“Good girl. Now, go take your break.”

You leave the office with a smile on your face.

But it doesn’t last.

Tala, Merkin, Geoffrey, and Sal corner you in the break area. You’re getting yourself a nutrient bar for your ravishing hunger, and they surround you like mynocks looking for power cables.

“What?” you ask, trying to look as innocent as possible to them.

“Do you deny going to the Great One’s quarters last night?” Sal said, her arms crossed over her chest.

You hesitate. Geoffrey would know that you at least went there. “No,” you say.

“See, I told you!” Geoffrey said. “She was there! I saw her on the monitor! Even though I hardly recognized her, in a dress and all.”

You glare at Geoffrey, and he cowers but only for a second.

“So what were you doing there?” Merkin asks.

Now you do hesitate. What do you say? Then an idea pops in your head. “I was taking something to the General.”

“Rather dressed up to just drop something off.” Sal said. She holds up a flimsy parchment copy of you standing outside the General’s door.

“Like you wouldn’t dress up to go see him,” you spit back at her.

“So what was it?” Sal asks.

“What?”

“What you were dropping off? What was it?”

Think, you tell yourself. Think! “A copy of my latest book.”

“A book?” Sal says, raising her eyebrow. “A copy of your book?”

“Yeah. A copy of my book.”

“And why would the Great One want a copy of the dribble you write?”

“Because her ‘dribble’ as you so incorrectly classify it, is wonderful, relaxing reading, thank you very much.” General Kenobi appeared almost from thin air at your side.

A whoosh of relief floods through you as he glances at the group, one after the other.

“Sir,” they all say, raising a hand in salute. You do too, only a few seconds behind them. He returns the gesture and looks each one in the eye.

“You have pressing matters to attend to,” he says, with a wave of his hand. “And you will not remember this encounter.”

“We have pressing matters to attend to,” they all say, their eyes glassy. “And we will not remember this encounter.”

“Return to your stations,” the General says, waving his hand again.

“We will return to our stations,” they say, and turn to leave the break room.

“Talk about charging in at the right time,” you say, smiling at Kenobi.

“I was heading down to engineering to talk to your lieutenant, and as I walked by, I heard the conversation.” A twinkle glimmered in his eye. “They shouldn’t bother you for the rest of the day. I doubt that they will even remember the conversation.”

“General privilege?”

“Jedi privilege.”

“Ahh.” You smile at him. His hand caresses your shoulder for a moment. “I was thinking, considering the rumors going on, that we meet tonight instead at your quarters? You do not have monitors over your door as I do.”

“My quarters are not nearly as nice as yours are.”

“You will be there, that is all that matters.” With that, he squeezes your shoulder and turns to leave the room.

He’s coming to my quarters!

EEEEEECCCCKKKK!!!

You start formulating a list of all the cleaning you’ll have to do in order to be ready for him tonight.

* * * * *

Like a rampant rancor, you tear through your domicile and start cleaning. Taking storage boxes, you try to make a decent version of a bookshelf to house the mountains of actual books that you collect, as well as real parchment copies of your own books. Another collection of storage boxes turn into a makeshift kaffe table near your bed. The one-room studio is not much to look at.

Still, you work feverishly to get it cleaned and straightened. You’d never bothered really organizing anything in your room in the time you’d been on the ship, because you never entertain in your quarters.

However, today, you must make it look as good as possible. An old blanket that you love becomes an area rug in the center of the room. You have no furniture besides your bed, and the now the make shift kaffe table. You stack a few more storage bins in a corner, and wish you had some kind of piece of metal or something you can throw on the top to make a decent looking desk.

Then you remember!

The recycling center!

You dash out of your room and in a few minutes, you’re down at the recycling center, going through some of the old stuff that’s set for destruction. You find two rather large, sturdy metal boxes that would make perfect ottoman-style seats, a long piece of metal that would make a good table top, and an old chair from one of the conference rooms that had been discarded.

Several clones work in the room, and you order two of them to assist you taking these items back to your quarters. One nice benefit of the clones was that they took orders so well.

They helped you carry your finds back to your quarters, and even stayed long enough to help you arrange them in the right places.

The metal boxes turned into ottomans with a good cleaning and a few extra pillows, (you sent one of the clones to retrieve for you), and you tossed a piece of cloth over each one. The make-shift desk came out rather well, and you set up your writing pad on it. You even managed to find a few holos of your family back on Coruscant to display in a few places.

You have to smile, the place does look rather well, considering…

Not exactly sure what time Kenobi is arriving, you decide you have risked long enough, and must take a quick shower before he gets here, because you smell like the recycling bin. In a second, you’re in and out, your hair still wringing wet, and you manage to toss on your robe just as the door chime goes off.

Kest! He’s here already!

You dart to the door, and open it, just as he’s reaching to press the security override on the door panel.

“Hi,” you say.

“I wondered why you had not answered.” He smiled and came in, his eyes darting down you, and you realize you are still a bit wet, and your robe is gaping open.

“Sorry,” you say, pulling your robe tight. Your cheeks are now flaming red again.

He smiles again, those beautiful teeth peering out from under his beard. “Do not feel bashful on my account,” he says, and looks around. “This is not nearly as terrible as you made your quarters out to be,” he says, and he pulls something from behind him out. “This is for you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you say, taking it from him. You realize as soon as you accept the gift that it’s a bottle of Nubian brandy, a very good vintage, too. “Wow, I haven’t had this in years.”

“Well, it was a gift,” Kenobi said. “But I never really had the desire to drink it.”

“Until now?”

“Until now,” he says, a flirty glint in his eye.

Your heart starts pounding double time, and not because of your maniacal cleaning. “Why, General, are you planning on seducing me?” You ask, your hand on your chest in feigned shock.

His eyebrow goes up. “A good General never reveals his plans.”

“Ah,” you say. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get dressed,” you say.

“And if I did?”

You raise your eyebrow to him.

“You know, a good host is always accommodating to her guest’s wishes.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” he says, pulling you to him, and pressing a hot kiss against your lips. You quiver under the contact, and your knees start to buckle underneath you. His lips run rampantly over yours and as he opens his mouth and his hot tongue slips into your mouth, you feel your head swimming. Your own tongue meets his, and they dance a waltz of exploration.

He pulls back just enough to separate your mouths, and he puts a hand on your cheek.

“I have wanted to do that all day long.”

You smile. “Well, me… I have to say I haven’t been thinking about that all day long.”

Kenobi raises his eyebrow to you. “Really?”

“Nope.” You shake your head at him.

“I do not believe you.”

“Well,” you say, “I have been thinking about you, but not necessarily about that…”

“Then what have you been thinking?”

You put your hand on his cheek, running your fingers over his beard. “You were very kind earlier today, and I appreciate it.”

“How so?”

“What you said about my writing.”

“Well,” he smiled, “I do have a confession to make. I have read all your books.”

You raise your eyebrow. “You’re serious?”

“Yes. I very much liked the series about the maiden from, oh, what was the name of that planet?”

“You mean Jesse from Jupiter?” You resist the urge to blush, but you expect some flame creeps into your cheek, especially remembering all the steamy love scenes in the books.

“Yes, that is the one. Where did you come up with that name, by the way?”

“Jesse or Jupiter?”

“Either.”

“I have no idea, my muses feed me all that I need to know.”

“Well, Jesse and Jupiter seemed like a fascinating place to visit.” Obi-Wan still has not taken his arms from around your waist, and he pulls you tighter to him. “Now, there was something I wanted to ask you about that, though.”

“Which is?”

“All of the intimate moments in those books,” a wicked grin appears on his face, “do you take those kinds of scenes from life?”

You lick your lip, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth to bite it, if only to stall for a moment before you answer. “Uh, well,” you say, more crimson spreading on your cheeks, “to a certain degree.”

“How so?”

“Let’s just say, I take my rather lacking love life and dream up more interesting ways to make it more, shall we say, interesting?”

He nods his head. “So you have never had sex in zero-g, then?”

“No.”

“Or in a public park?”

“No.”

“Or in a transport?”

“No.” You start thinking you sound rather pathetic.

“Or in…”

“No, alright? I’ve never done any of the things I’ve written about, okay? I make it all up!”

Kenobi throws back his head and laughs. “That’s good,” he says, wiping a tear from his eye. “I wondered if you had some secret box of enhancements stashed somewhere in here like, oh, what was her name? Jesse’s friend.”

“Karrie?” You tip your own head back in laughter. “No, not at all.”

“Not that certain things would not be welcome, but still, Karrie seemed to have a wide collection of, well, stuff.”

“Such as?”

He kisses you on the cheek. “Let’s save that for later, shall we?”

Later?

EEEEECCCKKK!!!

“Of course,” you say, regaining your composure. “If you don’t mind, though, I would like to put some clothes back on.”

“Actually, I would mind.” He nuzzles your neck, placing soft kisses all the way up to your ear.

You can’t help the moan that slips out of your mouth as he slides a hand inside your robe and touches your skin. His hand feels like fire against your skin, and you shudder at his touch. His hand lazily caresses your stomach, when he finds something…

Your one of three body piercings.

“What is that?” he asks, parting the robe enough so he can see your stomach.

The post holds a diamond on each end, and the bottom one dangles down, with a small silver chain that holds a spread of diamonds in a pattern of a star at the bottom. Kenobi’s fingers circle the top, then slide down the chain to the star.

“I do not believe that is regulations,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

“So reprimand me, General,” you say.

In a flash, he has you on the floor, and you bump your head against one of the new ottomans.

“Too much furniture,” he says, and you feel the ottoman move across the room toward your bed.

You have to smirk, but your smirk is quickly lost as you feel the General kiss you on the stomach, his tongue swirling around the ring. Then his tongue takes a hold of the star, pulling it in his mouth and sucking on it for a moment.

You almost die right then and there at the sensation. No one really knows about your body piercings, with the exception of your friend Frenia on Coruscant, who has more piercings than even you want to know about, and she took you to get all your piercings. Fortunately, no one has ever noticed them under your uniforms before.

His lips kiss all around your stomach, moving up and down, but careful to keep your chest still covered as well as everything below your hips covered too.

“So where else do you have these pieces of jewelry?” he asks, looking up at you.

“You will have to search me,” you say.

Kenobi’s eyebrow goes up, and for a second you wish you had not have said that, because he starts pummeling you with kisses, slowly working the robe away from your chest.

He slips one hand inside the edge of the robe, and glides it over your chest, revealing your right breast. Hanging from your nipple is a ring with another diamond star dangling around the bottom.

“Hmmm,” he says, running a finger over this nipple and around the ring. “This concerns me,” he says. “If there is much more of this type of jewelry, I may have to do a full body search.”

“As you see fit, General,” you say. And you groan as his mouth takes your nipple, and he slides backwards, sucking on the metal, slowly letting it slip out of his mouth. His other hand opens the opposite side of the robe, and that finger finds that ring, and he continues his ministrations, his lips roaming madly from one side to the other, sucking, nibbling, biting, and pulling on you and your jewelry.

Your head swims as he explores, running his fingers across your body, his lips doing amazing things that you couldn’t have even dreamed of for novels. You arch into his touches, groans emanating from you as he works his hands down your sides to your hips.

“Are there any more of these broken regulations I will find?” he asks, taking one of your nipples in his mouth again.

A groan is all of an answer you muster.

His lips start sliding down your body, and you feel like you’re about to explode as he reaches your hip bones. He kisses each side, his beard sending double sensations through you as he works his magic on your hips, upper and inner thighs, and the small of your stomach.

Then he slips just a bit lower, diving into your center.

The scream that comes out of you as he makes contact feels like it’s shaking the room. His tongue does things you never imagined anyone’s tongue doing to your center, and for a brief second, you feel like you’re about to lose consciousness. The room starts to spin, and you grab onto him, holding on for dear life as you climb to that precipice of climactic peak.

Then you’re falling, harder, faster and dizzier than you ever though possible. You fall so hard, you think you really did crash again against the floor, your climax ebbs so violently.

You have the vague awareness of soft kisses up your body, and weight on your chest, and you open your eyes to find Kenobi working his way up your torso, slow and predatory. His eyes glimmer in wicked pride, and you know that he knows that was one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had in your life.

“I take it you enjoyed that?” he asks, placing a soft kiss on your neck.

You manage a groan, which was intended to sound like an affirmative response, but it does not get there.

Kenobi smirks.

Your hand reaches up, and you touch his back, a random placement, for all your limbs have lost their ability to move. But you find he’s still wearing all of his Jedi attire, and as sensations return, you can even feel the coldness of his lightsaber dangling from his hip.

“No fair,” you mumble. That’s what you mean to say, anyway, but you’re not sure if it came out that way.

“What?”

“Still clothed,” you say.

He rolls off your body and runs a finger down the center of you, and circles your belly button. “You think I need to remove my garments?”

You shake your head.

“Well,” he says, getting to his knees. “I see no reason to disappoint my hostess.” He stands up and begins the process of removing the layers of Jedi paraphernalia.

You watch as he removes his boots, then his belt, his heavy muslin outer tunic, and works his way down to the inner layers of the robes.

Soon, he stands before you, his bare chest’s lines defined even more by the patch of hair growing on his chest. You can’t help but stare at him, and you are beginning to understand why your companions the ship call him the Great One.

Not that any of them have seen him like this.

He works off his leggings, and you see the curved calves that you massaged just the other night, the amazing thighs, firm from hours of Jedi training, and the curves of his hips and bottom, a very round and very grab-able shape.

But nothing can prepare you for the sight of his member, long, thick, and ready. The tip looks almost swollen with desire, and he puts his hand on himself, running it up and down the shaft as you look at him.

New waves of desire pulse through you, and you know you want him.

Right now.

Sensing your surge of need, Obi-Wan is soon on top of you, poised and ready to enter. He holds out his hand, a pillow flies through the air, and he places it under your hips. He gets on his knees, placing each of your feet on his shoulders, and he looks deep in your eyes.

It feels like he’s probing your mind, waiting for a signal from you.

You nod your head, a slight gesture, but it’s enough.

He plunges into your depths with a mighty groan of his own, and you shudder at the entrance.

He slides in and out a few slow, torturous times, then he starts a harder rhythm. Pounding into you like more of an animal than a man, you feel yourself climbing again, this time much faster than before toward that perfect place of cosmic orgasm. You both moan and groan, your hands pulling at the blanket-slash-carpet that you lay on, your body arching up into him as much as you can.

He moves faster and faster, and you feel yourself start to fall over the edge, and you cry out, hitting your hands hard on the floor. His own groans drown out yours and he arches his back. He thrusts into you a few more times, and you feel him pulsing inside you.

He lets go of your legs and you drop them, (they are made of jelly again), and he lays on top of you. His breath is ragged, and yours is not much better. He lets out an exasperated sigh, while you run your fingers through his hair.

“Force, that was amazing,” he says, rolling off you and landing with a thunk on the floor next to you.

“Yes it was,” you say. He reaches up to put an arm around you, pulling you into the crook of his shoulder. You both lay there for a while, neither of you moving, except for the rise and fall of your breathing. Soon you both fall asleep.

* * * * *

Bbbbrrrriiiiiinnnnnggggg………

You jerk up.

Bbbbrrrriiiiiinnnnnnggggggggg………

Someone is going to die, you think to yourself. You’re still laying on the floor next to General Kenobi, and he seems to still be asleep. The annoying door chime is still going off, and you look at your chronometer on the wall.

You two have been asleep for a good hour or so. You pull the blanket up to your body, and look around for your robe, but Kenobi’s sleeping on part of it, and you doubt that you’ll be able to pull it out from under him.

“Where’d this come from?” You don’t remember having a blanket on you before.

BBBBBRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNNNNNGGGGGGGG………………….

“If you do not answer that, I will,” Kenobi grumbles and rolls over on his side, away from you.

Ha ha! You grab your robe and slip it over you as you walk to the door. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” you say.

You palm the panel to open the door. “What?” you do not let the door open more than your body will block, though.

“Stars, what have you been doing?” Sal asks, looking over your shoulder into your room.

“What do you want?” You pull your robe tighter around your body.

“Well, I heard a rumor that you were having another meeting with the General, and I wanted to drop something off for him,” Sal says, still looking over your shoulder into your room, but from the expression on her face, you can tell that she doesn’t see anything interesting.

“Do I look like I’m having a meeting with anyone?”

“You look like I woke you up.” She starts to try and muscle her way past you into your room, but you stand firm.

“As a matter of fact, I was sleeping. The General is not here. Try the gym or something.” You reach down to hit the panel to close the door, and Sal this time does manage to get the door to open all the way.

“What in the Force are you doing?” You snap at her. “I did not invite you in!” you try to push her out of your room, but she’s a bit stronger than she looks.

“Get off it, you act like you’re hiding something in here,” she says, and manages to get inside the room.

You expect to hear a screech, a whine, a whimper, something, but you turn around and see the room is empty. No sign of the General anywhere, with the exception of the bottle of Nubian brandy sitting on your desk.

Sal looks around. “Glad to see you finally did something with this place. Where’d you get the furniture? There wasn’t any here last week.”

“I did a bit of renovations tonight after work. Which is why I was sleeping, I’m tired. Do you mind?” You try to edge her back to the door, but she instead heads straight for the bottle of Nubian brandy.

“Where’d you get this? This is expensive stuff.”

“That’s none of your business.”

From out of the refresher emerges General Kenobi, dressed in his leggings and only his undertunic. “I brought it to her,” he said, glaring at Sal.

“Oh, uh General,” she says, saluting. “I didn’t think she had company!”

The General salutes back at her, then takes a step closer to Sal. “That’s not what you said at the doorway. You said you have something for me?”

“Oh, uh, here’s the thing,” she says.

You cover your mouth, trying not to laugh.

“Do you know how much trouble you are in ma’am?” he says to her.

“Trouble, sir?”

“Forcing your way into an officer’s private quarters? Lying about information for your commander? Spreading rumors and lies about a fellow officer?”

“Sir, I never!”

“Save it,” Kenobi says with a wave of his hand. “You will be leaving these quarters,” he says, with another motion of his hand.

“I will be leaving,” she says, a dazed look on her face.

“You will go back to your quarters.”

“I will return to my quarters.”

“You will speak to no one about what you’ve seen here.”

“I will speak to no one about what I’ve seen here.”

You repress giggles as you watch Kenobi brainwash Sal, and as a topper, he orders her to check out all of your books from the archive and read them from cover to cover, and tell everyone she knows about how good the books are.

Sal pivots on her heal and leaves the room.

“You sure you can’t teach me that brainwashing thing?” you ask him after she’s out the door.

He steps over to you and wraps his arms around you. “Not without lots and lots of practice.”

“I’m up for practice.”

“Well, you may be,” he says, kissing your cheek. “But first, you have some reading to do.” He picks up the data card with the rest of A Night of Dreams on it, and hands it to you.

“Yes, sir!”

The End

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