Title: Enemy Territory

Author: Bookworm

Rating: NC-17 (eventually)

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Star Wars, or Obi Wan. I certainly *wish* I did.

Author's Note: Whoa! OK, this started out as a quickie, Obi-nursing-you-back-to-health fic, and turned into a monster! Well, I hope you enjoy it as much as I liked writing it.

Acknowledgements: A few people to thank, here. Firstly, Kriss; I had a lot of conversations with her (both silly and serious) that got and kept this fic moving in the beginning stages. Secondly, to Jas; in about the middle of the fic, I realized my quickie needed a plot, and I was hopelessly lost. It was HER plot outline suggestions that took all of the mess I had up until that point and actually made it make sense. Last, and certainly not least, to Phobia. At the end, when I needed them to just get together already, she found the perfect way to make it happen. There is a section near the end that she pretty much wrote. I made a few minor changes (mostly grammatical), but those few paragraphs are originally hers. Without these three people, and the hope that someone might actually READ this monster, this fic would have been deleted months ago. So, thanks, everyone! Now, stop reading the technical junk, and on with the fic!

Chapter 1

Your palms are slippery with sweat as you adjust your grip on the blaster. How you managed to get into this situation, you'll never know. There was a reason you signed up as a mechanic; you never wanted to have to hurt anyone. And during the Clone Wars, that was a hard thing to avoid. You figured being a mechanic attached to some General's ship would get you out of it. Apparently not.

It had started off as a normal day for you; report into your immediate supervisor, and find out what broke today. But this morning, a Clone trooper met you in the mess hall, ordering you to report to General Kenobi as soon as you finished eating. You hurried through breakfast, and rushed over to the General's quarters, wondering what you did wrong. You try to keep your head down, but everyone screws up. Especially on long missions in deep space, where there's nothing to do but play pranks on each other. One time, a friend talked you into helping her switch the General's shaving cream for whipped cream. You stifle a snicker remembering the trouble that got you both in. But when you arrived there, you were informed that you were going out on a covert mission with the General. Apparently, some piece of equipment broke, and they needed a mechanic to fix it. Unfortunately, it was right in a very dangerous sector. Hence the presence of the General. He didn't want to attract attention by bringing too many people with you, so it will just be you two sneaking around. Great. Exactly the sort of situation you became a mechanic to avoid. And so, you found yourself trudging through the undergrowth behind the General, sneaking into a side entrance of a very non-secure building. You can still hear shots inside. The General quickly dispenses with the lock and enters, motioning you to follow. You take a deep breath, and comply. He had told you before you left, that it wouldn't be far. Just a quick in and out, once you got the thing fixed. Right. You glance around nervously as the General fiddles with another lock. But nothing happens. He frowns and studies it closer, murmuring softly to himself. Your eye suddenly catches something. A flash of metal. You half turn towards it, careful to seem casual. You strain out of the corner of your eye, and see…

"GENERAL!" You scream a warning, and fling yourself at him, knocking his body to the ground. Pain rips through your back, and you let out a scream, and everything goes black.

***

When you next awake, everything is still quite dark, and fuzzy. You open your eyes slowly. A tiled metal ceiling. How quaint. You try to sit up to look around, but pain lances through you, and you gasp.

"Don't try to move." A warm, familiar voice sounds behind you. "You were hurt pretty badly. You need to rest." The General moves into your line of sight, kneeling at your side. He is missing his robe and outer tunic; both of which have probably gone to cover you and cushion your head. He looks strangely unclothed without them. His face is unreadable.

"Fine by me." Your voice rasps slightly from disuse. "Where are we? How long was I out?"

"A little over a day. We are still in the same building. It came under attack, and I managed to find a storeroom to hide in. Officially speaking, we are in enemy territory." You nod slowly, as the information sinks in. Enemy territory. The General gently touches your shoulder, urging you onto one side. You can feel his hands stroking gently down your back, checking your injuries. Your breath hitches as his hand skims the bare skin on the back of your neck, and you repress a shiver.

"You should be all right. Fortunately, the blast missed your vital organs." His accent does things to your woozy mind, and you have to hurry to suppress a sudden flash of desire. He looks into your eyes for a moment, his face still unreadable. You wish this man would learn some emotions; as is he is too damned hard to read. He raises one hand to touch your forehead. "Rest now." You try to argue, but your eyelids droop, and you fall too soon into slumber.

***

You don't normally dream. Or, if you do, they are silly and superficial, and don't remain in your memory for very long. But, every once in awhile, you have dreams that are vivid and important. You find yourself standing in a plain room. It looks like an ordinary patient's room in a hospital. But everything is very misty, and you cannot make out much with any clarity. A figure enters. It is a man, that much you can tell. But just who it is is hidden from you. He walks towards you until he is practically on top of you. Your forehead comes at about the same level of his mouth. You glance up into his blue/green/gray eyes, unable to make out anything else. Then, he abruptly leans down and presses his lips against yours. Your arms slide up around his neck, clinging desperately to him. The only thing you can feel is his soft lips pressing against yours, and his tongue exploring your mouth. You whimper as he pulls you closer into him. His hands sneak underneath your shirt, and caress the skin they find there. One hand drifts down to clench your butt, and he grinds himself into you. He breaks from your lips then, and his mouth travels down your neck and collarbone. His hands drift down to your shirt, and pulls it off of you. Before the shirt even hits the ground, his mouth is on your breasts, sucking and nipping as his hands unfasten and push down your pants. You let your head fall back and groan loudly as a finger slides through your wetness. Your hands clench in his hair and draw him up to your lips. His hands slide around your waist, lifting you into the air and pressing you back against the nearest wall. All at once, he slams himself into you. His lovemaking is quick and fierce, bringing you to a fast, but very satisfying conclusion as you shout your pleasure. And then…

You wake up. Your hair is slightly damp from sweat. What in the Nine Hells was that? The last thing you remember clearly, is falling asleep. After that, your memory is fuzzy. You dreamed, of that you're certain. But all you can remember, is pleasure. And a figure…a man. But who he was, you aren't certain. You glance down and blush as you realize your arousal. Considering that, and what you remember of the dream it can only mean… You turn over onto one side, and resolutely try to put the whole business out of your mind. With all that has happened, it isn't hard for you to fall back asleep.

***

Obi Wan awakened abruptly, panting heavily. What in the name of the Force just happened? He had not had such a problem with erotic dreams since puberty. And the woman in his dreams; he couldn't see her face. The mystery only tantalized and enflamed him further…

He glanced down to find his hand wrapped around his rampantly erect cock. He glanced quickly at the mechanic on the floor on the other side of the room. A quick mind probe assured him the she was fast asleep. He looked back down at his arousal and sighed. He could tell already that he wouldn't be allowed any rest until certain "things" were taken care of. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, focusing on the woman in his dream. Her hair, her lips, the way she felt pressed up against him, the way she moaned into his ear. Obi Wan locked his groans and rumbles in his chest as he felt himself swell and grow. He gently squeezed himself as he focused on what he could remember from his dream. Until…he abruptly exploded, barely holding back a roar of satisfaction. He pumped himself until there was clearly nothing left, and then let his organ flop down. At least now, he could sleep. He turned over and closed his eyes, trying to put the mysterious woman out of his mind.

Chapter 2

You wake up slowly in the morning, your brain feeling fuzzy from your disturbed sleep. All the rest of the night, you were unable to get the strange man out of your mind. He continually appeared in your dreams. Always there, lurking around the edges, but would disappear if you approached him. You look around the small abandoned storage room. Obi Wan is gone. You feel brief twinge of worry, before an exasperated mental voice reminds you that if the room were discovered, you would be captured too. He probably just went to see if it was safe to leave yet. You slowly push yourself into a sitting position, then pause to let the spinning die down. You must have been hit harder then you thought. Pity you're feeling so ill; were you better able to move around, you would make some food. Force knows when you last ate, and the General is likely hungry. Men usually were, anyway. You jump slightly when the door opens to reveal Obi Wan. He narrows his eyes at you slightly.

"I thought I told you to rest?" For the first time, you are stricken by how incredibly delicious the General's accent sounds. You mentally roll your eyes and shove that thought aside. Wonderful time for your good sense to go on hiatus; General Kenobi is a Jedi, and could easily read the train of your thoughts if you don't shield yourself properly. A private acquaintance with Jedi Master Mace Windu taught you that. You shrug at the General.

"I was just testing. See how well I am." The General crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow.

"And what were your conclusions?" His voice is slightly dry, betraying the subtly sarcasm of the remark. You tilt your head thoughtfully.

"The shade of green the empty containers are looks really interesting when it's spinning…" The General's mouth quirks, almost as if he's trying to hold in a laugh. The General laughing at a joke? A shocking thought. Said General quickly strides over to you and gently urges you to lie back down.

"I know it can be frustrating, but you must rest if you are to get well." His voice is right in your ear, and his hot breath blows gently on the side of your neck. You try to ignore the way your heart beats faster at his closeness.

"Can't I at least get anything to eat around here?" He smiles gently.

"As it happens, I have something here. Not much, but it is food." He pulls something out of a small container on his belt and hands it to you. You look at it; it looks like the cap to a pen. Nevertheless, he said it is food. You chew on it as best you can. Not gourmet, but food. And you are hungry. The General moves out of your line of sight as you eat, probably attending to some chore or other. You finish the food quickly, then clear your throat. You start to ask him when he thinks you two can get out of here, when voices outside make you freeze. You glance over at the General, and see him staring at the door intently for a moment. He glances over at you, and puts one finger to his lips, indicating silence. You give a nod. He stands, swiftly but soundlessly, and moves over to you. Without a word, he lifts you in his arms and moves you into one corner of the room, out of sight of the doorway. You try to ignore the heat that flashes through you at his closeness, but the fact that you are pressed against his chest proves a powerful distraction. You have to fight hard not to rub your face against it. The General halts suddenly, and glances down at you, his face unreadable. But the he seems to mentally shake himself, sets you down in the corner, and moves next to the door, one hand on his lightsaber. A few moments of trying to breathe quietly, before the danger seems to have passed. The General wordlessly leaves the room then. Probably to try and find a way out, or something. With that thought, you suddenly feel drowsy, and drift off to sleep. Your last thought is to wonder what the contours of the General's chest would look like without fabric to shield it.

***

Obi Wan leaned against the wall, panting. That had been a near thing, and in more ways then one. He had caught the young mechanic's train of thoughts, and found himself reminded of the mysterious woman of his dreams. He had nearly acted on them, taking it out on the poor, wounded girl. Although, judging from the way she had been thinking about him, Obi Wan doubted she would complain. He couldn't go back in that room now; that much was clear. He stepped away from the wall and decided to make another circuit of the building; he wouldn't discover anything new, but he may be able to tire himself out enough to go back into that room and get some sleep.

Chapter 3

You dream again that night. You find yourself once more in the strange, featureless room. You are alone for the moment, but do not remain so for long. This time, though, the man surprises you; you don't see anything, only feel him grab you from behind, spin you around, and kiss you desperately. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you, enjoying the way his red-gold beard scratches delightfully. His arms tighten around your waist, and he lifts you in the air, spins you around, and pins you against the wall. You make love again; but this night, something is different. He seems more desperate; as if he needs this more then he is willing to admit, even to himself. He ruthlessly drives you into orgasm after orgasm, seeming to enjoy your pleasure nearly as much as you do. When at last he allows himself to come, he collapses onto you, holding you desperately. Your last thought before you drift off into true sleep is note that he is starting to look like the General…

***

Obi Wan jerked himself awake, breathing hard. This new dream was even more intense then the last. He had found himself drawn again and again towards the mysterious woman. He felt his arousal jerk just at the thought of the way she cried out during orgasm. He felt himself becoming a bit clearer to her, but she was no less shrouded in mist to him then the last time. He felt his member swell yet further as his frustration grew. He sighed, and prepared to repeat his solution of last night. He wrapped his hand firmly against his insistent erection, closed his eyes, and tried to recall every bit of his dream. He was a bit concerned at how quickly he became aroused at the thought of this woman. But his brain stopped functioning when he recalled how she had moved beneath him, and her cries of passion in his ear. He pumped himself mercilessly, locking his cries in his chest, until he exploded onto the blankets. He sat there panting for a moment, then turned to look at the mechanic. Still fast asleep. But the way she laid there almost reminded him of something. Could it be… the General shook his head. Impossible. It was probably nothing more then his own imagination. He rolled over and went back to sleep.

***

You don't know when it is that the General shakes you awake, but you do know that it is late. You had another dream last night, a particularly delicious one. It made you sleep better then you have in awhile. You make an unhappy noise at being awakened and roll over.

"I am sorry to wake you, but I may have found a way out of here. We must leave now if we are to make it." Comes the familiar voice. You sigh. Fine; this floor is hardly comfortable, anyway. Even your bunk is better then this. It takes a bit more coaxing, but the General manages to get you up and ready to go. Just one problem; you can't exactly stand on your own. With a bit of willpower, you manage to stand while leaning heavily on the General. You try to ignore it, but the feeling of his arm securely wrapped around your waist does things to your concentration, and fires up your imagination. He gives you that same unreadable look, as his arm tightens around your waist.

"Ready?" He asks, his voice low. You nod apprehensively. He gives your waist a slight squeeze of reassurance, then leads you both out the door. It is a long journey, due mostly to the fact that you cannot travel far, even with the General's help, before needing to rest.

"Nearly there." He whispers in your ear after a particularly difficult climb up a set of stairs. You nod, and start to respond, when the sound of voices makes you freeze. The General's gaze sharpens, and he looks in the direction of the voices. You don't need his whispered confirmation to know what this means; guards. Without warning, General Kenobi scoops you up in his arms and carries your down a side corridor. There isn't much time to hide now, nor many places to do so. You find yourself holding your breath, hoping the voices will grow distant, and the guards pass you by. They only grow louder. You look around; you have reached a dead end, and soon the guards will see you. At this point you are more in danger then the General. His loose tunic and trousers could be mistaken for just about anyone. But you wear a Republic Army Uniform. You feel fear start to permeate your senses, despite your best efforts, when the General abruptly shoves you against the wall and pins you there with his body. Your heartbeat speeds up as you feel his quick breathing hot against the side of your neck.

"Forgive me," he whispers in your ear. You frown, and start to ask what he means, but all thought leaves you as his lips come crashing down on yours. Your mouth drops slightly open in startlement, and his tongue plunges in. His arms wrap around your back, one hand stroking the base of your neck. When the other hand lightly strokes the skin on your lower back just where your shirt ends, you abandon all reason and throw yourself into the kiss. The guards forgotten, you slide your arms around his neck and bury one hand in his hair, pinning him to you in a deathgrip. As close as you two are, you can feel his groin heat up and begin to poke against you. You don't know how long the kiss goes on; you easily loose yourself in the feeling of his lips on yours, and his tongue exploring his mouth as your tongue tastes his mouth. It isn't until you start to feel dizzy from lack of breath that you finally part. You both stand there, lips barely a few inches away from each other, panting. After a moment, he moves. He lets you down from the wall (the guards are long gone), and leads you back to the store room. Once there, you curl up on your side and pretend to sleep. After a moment, the door opens, then shuts. You sigh and trace a line on your improvised pillow. What in the blazes happened back there?

***

Obi Wan leaned against the wall in the dimly lit hallway and panted, mentally berating himself. With the guards coming, he had had to do something to hide the girl and himself. And the only thing he could think of was to pretend to be a…couple, amusing themselves. So to speak. That was logical. A bit unorthodox, but logical. But when his lips met hers, that was when everything went wrong. A sudden swell of passion and longing and need had grabbed him, and he found himself actually kissing the mechanic, before he realized what he was doing. His arousal had grown, and he found himself reacting as he had been in his dreams. He had tried to pull away, but the feel of her lips, her skin… it had all felt too amazing. He couldn't make himself stop. He had doubtless hurt her. Or offended her. The poor woman had nearly died to save him, and all he did in thanks was get her trapped in enemy territory, pin her to a wall, and kiss her without her permission.

"Great," he muttered to himself, and ran his hands through his hair. He sighed; well, there was work to do. He had to find another way out of here. The one they had tried was too watched to attempt until the mechanic felt better. He needed to work off some of this aggravation; Force only knew what he would try to do to the poor woman next.

Chapter 4

The strange man seeks you out again in your dreams tonight. But this time you have had enough. The dreams have been wonderful, heady and addicting. But you have to know. As in the previous two dreams, his appearance is sudden, and he immediately seeks out your lips with his. His arms wrap around your waist and lift you onto a countertop. One hand drifts up to the back of your head, holding you captive to his lips. So wonderful is this feeling, that you almost forget what you intended to do. Almost. A few moments go by before you place your hands on his chest and push. The man releases you, puzzled, and pierces you with his jade-green gaze. His pupils are grossly dialed, evidence to his desire and arousal. He needs this. And you want to give it to him, more then anything. Almost as if he heard this, his hand drifts down to cup the substantial bulge in his pants, stroking softly and moaning. Your breathing grows ragged as you see his eyes flutter shut. That's it. You stride forward and remove his hand firmly, replacing it with your own. You nip at his beard as he groans and growls at your caresses. Your hand gently strokes, squeezes his bulge harder and harder. He leans down and buries his face in the crook of your neck, moaning uncontrollably. His growls seem ripped from out of his throat. After only a few more moments of this, he grabs your hands and yanks them away from your body. You pout briefly, before he slams himself into you, your pants having disappeared (oh, the wonders of dream state). Your head falls back, allowing his lips access to your throat (which he takes advantage of, of course), and your hands scratch lightly down his back. He pumps you roughly, even whimpers, as if begging you to come on him. One hand drifts down to caress you mercilessly until you helplessly explode on him, causing a roar and a similar explosion on his end. Your mutual orgasms pump each other on until you are limp with fatigue. Just before you drift off into true sleep, you feel the man pull you into him and cuddle you close, holding you as though he never wants to let you go…

***

This is getting out of hand, Obi Wan thought as he woke again. There had been an edge to the dream this time, something that had not been quite as present as it was this last time; need. On his part. He had found himself pushing the strange woman ruthlessly, and then grabbing her just at the end. What would be the proper term? Ah, yes…cuddling with her. Holding her close to him, terrified of letting her go. Obi Wan sighed, and once again prepared to take the simple route of dealing with his current "problem." The memory of the feeling of the woman's body curled up in his arms was more then enough. It didn't take much before he was locking a roar in his chest, and spilling himself all over his own hand. He sighed, cleaned off his hand with a nearby rag, and curled up to go back to sleep, trying to ignore the cold feeling he felt where the woman's body should be.

***

You pant desperately, trying to regain your breath, yet knowing it is in vain. There is no way you'll be able to breath normally for awhile. Not after what you just saw. General Kenobi, doing…well, "attending" to himself might be the best way to put it. And now, you have a nasty suspicion growing in your mind. The man in your dreams, General Kenobi. You shake your head. It couldn't be him. Could it? No, of course not. He is a General and a Jedi, and you're just a simple mechanic.

But, protested a small part of you, the way he kissed me… Nonsense, you growl at it. That was likely just acting. He had to do something to distract the guards. But you still couldn't get out of your head the look on his face just after he pulled away from your lips. His eyes had been closed. His lips were parted, and he looked…needy. You shake your head and try to banish the thought. Enough of this. It is late, and you need your rest. Nevertheless, as you go to sleep, you cannot be rid of the thought of a prickly beard nuzzled in your neck, and steady breathing on your ear…

***

You clamber out of sleep slowly, the feeling of breath on your ear rousing you. You wriggle a bit and grumble, thinking it is still part of the dream. You open your eyes slowly, only to meet a pair of teal eyes right in front of you.

"Good morning," came the familiar voice. Your eyes snap open and you give a startled yelp before you remember where you are, and quickly scramble away. You are breathing hard as you hold up one hand to forestall his puzzled expression.

"Do not do that! You scared the Force out of me!" You hiss at him. He develops a sheepish expression, looking genuinely ashamed.

"My apologies, my lady. I did not mean to startle you." Oh. My. Gosh. Did he just call me his lady? You feel a bit numb from the use of his famous accent. It had been the cause of no few late-night giggling sessions between you and some other females aboard the ship, how incredibly sexy General Kenobi's accent was. You swallow.

"Umm, it's fine, I guess." There is a moment of awkward silence, then you both start to talk at once. You look down, hiding a brief smile.

"Sorry, you go ahead," you tell him. General Kenobi nods.

"I was just going to say, I believe I found a way out of this situation." You perk up at this. All right, he has your attention. General Kenobi gives a brief nod, and seems to go inside himself for a moment before speaking again. "You recall that we came here originally to fix something?" You nod slowly. Where is he going with this? "Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. We had hopes that, if a mechanic could be snuck in, he or she could disable the shields surrounding this place, and, well, the troops could take things from there. I suppose what I'm suggesting is… if I can get you into the control room, can you disable the shields?" You pause for a moment, initially shocked at the supposedly benign mission you thought you came here for. You force yourself to calm down, and cast your mind back on the briefings you received. Try to recall your superior's description of the level of technology here. It was positively ancient. A well-thrown bucket of water could probably ruin the whole thing. You look back up and General Kenobi and nod. You can do it. You must. He seems to be thinking for a moment, then gives an abrupt nod and stands.

"I believe that the best way to do this would be for me to carry you." You nod back at him, and try to ignore the flash of heat that travels through you at his words. The thought of being in his arms… you swallow and firmly shove the thought to the back of your mind. He walks over to you and scoops you up in his arms. You have to try hard to ignore the feeling of his chest pressed against you, and his heat and scent as you are snuggled up next to him. Obi Wan looks down at you with an unreadable look, not speaking for a moment. Then,

"Comfortable?" He rumbles. Oh, sweet Force. Pressed up against his chest as you are, you can feel the rumbling of his words building in his chest. You give a nod, not looking at him. You don't think you could handle meeting his eyes just now.

***

Obi Wan had to struggle to control himself. When he lifted the mechanic into his arms, and met her eyes… he almost crushed her to him and assaulted her lips with his own. But he managed to stop himself. Barely. He couldn't get over the way she felt held safe in his arms. He wanted nothing more then to stop right there and just hold her. Cuddle her. Obi Wan mentally shook himself. Get a grip on yourself, man. He released his tension to the Force, making himself concentrate. Now, think. The best way to get to the control room… ah. He strode silently out of the room, carrying the injured mechanic in his arms.

***

OK, so maybe you were speaking too soon when you said this wouldn't be hard. It's not the machinery. All right, so it's a bit complicated, with all of the security measures. Not much. The main problem is twofold. One, is that, due to the nature of the shields, you would have to do a great deal of standing in an odd position in order to reach the central computer. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem. But with your injury, you can't quite manage it. General Kenobi, being a chivalrous sort, immediately offered to help you stand where you need to. No problem there. Except for the fact that the good General is now standing very close to you, one arm around your waist, and his breath is falling palpably on the back of your neck. Not easy to ignore. Add that to the fact that you jump every time you hear guards come by, and this task is turning out to be slightly more difficult then you'd thought. Nevertheless, you keep a tight grip on your thoughts, and force yourself to concentrate. You vaguely note in the back of your mind that General Kenobi's breathing seems strangely irregular.

***

Obi Wan was having trouble. He was no mechanic himself, so all he could really do was stand where he was and aid the mechanic in standing herself while she worked. Not a very difficult job. But, for some reason, he kept noticing things. The way her breath left her mouth in a soft sigh, the way a particular lock of hair left her ponytail and rested on the side of her neck with a slight curl. His breathing grew uneven, and he had more and more trouble controlling himself. He was continually possessed with the desire to lean forward and softly kiss her neck… He tried to release his frustration to the Force, but it only grew the more he tried. It stubbornly clung to him like the scent of the mysterious woman's hair from his dreams, the sound of her cries as she came… Obi Wan silently smacked himself. Focus, Kenobi. He growled at himself. Nevertheless, as his mind raced, he absently noticed a drop of sweat rolling down her neck, and had to stop himself from leaning forward and licking it off. He sighed. What he really needed here was a cold shower. He decided to make conversation.

"How close are you?" He asked, his voice coming out slightly deeper then he'd intended. The mechanic let out a sigh.

"Nearly there. There's still one or two more security protocols to get through." Obi Wan frowned and leaned forward to look at the computer.

"How are you getting through those? I don't recall computer hacking being a part of the briefing program for the Republic. To be honest, I didn't think anyone bothered with these things anymore, let alone knowing how to hack into them." His voice was dry, and the mechanic grinned.

"You obviously haven't met my brothers…hah! Got it!" She smiled triumphantly. Glancing down, she tapped his hand where it was clenched at her waist, supporting her. "Up, please." He gently maneuvered her up, the oddness of her position forcing her to stand pressed against his chest. She cleared her throat, not meeting his eyes. His hand clenched slightly at the fabric on the back of her shirt. He felt an inexplicable tugging, pulling him closer to her. If she met his eyes…

***

Sandalwood. He smelled like sandalwood. Sandalwood, and fresh cherries, all mingled with his masculine scent. If it had been hard to concentrate before, it was nigh impossible now. You could see, your face practically buried in his chest, a slight tuft of chest hair peeking over the top of his undertunic. All of your dreams and hidden desires catch up with you in this moment, making your breath catch. All you can think of is what he would look like, feel like, sound like…you have to struggle to hold back a moan. Obi Wan's hand tightens on your back. Slowly, despite your efforts to stop, you feel your eyes lift up his chest, passing his neck, the strong, bearded chin, his lips, his nose…

His eyes. Normally a silvery aqua, the have turned a deep, jade-green. His breath catches as he meets your gaze, and for a moment, you both freeze. Then…

His other arm surrounds your waist as he crushes you to him, lifting you slightly, and slams his mouth down on yours. You gasp involuntarily, and his tongue takes advantage of your shock to invade your mouth. He explores, nibbles and sucks on everything he can reach, leaving you too numb and surprised to react. After a long, wet kiss, he finally breaks, leaving you gasping for breath. His mouth immediately descends again, devouring the skin on your neck. His skillful mouth and tongue quickly seek out your most sensitive spots, and that and the sensation of his beard on your neck makes you moan in pleasure. You bury your hands in his hair and manage to yank his head back to look at him. His hair is askew, and he is panting heavily, a wild look in his eyes.

"We shouldn't do this," you begin. He nods in agreement, and an almost pained look comes into his eyes, as though he is torn between two strong compulsions. He hesitates, then gives a soft cry and assaults your lips again. This time, his hands are not idle. They sneak underneath your shirt, finding their way up your midsection and around your bra to caress your breasts. His fingers tweak and pinch your nipples as he sucks every bit of air out of your mouth, until you are breathless and dizzy. You let out small whimpers around his lips, and he responds with a peculiar combination of a growl and a groan. It is a deep, purring sound that starts deep in his chest. You can feel it vibrating in him before it emerges from his lips. He spins around and pins you against a wall, still devotedly giving you mouth-to-mouth, as his hands and lips and tongue bring you higher and higher before he finally releases you. He reburies his head in your neck, licking and sucking and biting as his hands drift down to caress your stomach until you whimper. It is then that he looks up and meets your eyes.

"I am sorry," he pants. "I cannot… I need…" He looks painfully desperate, and his need tugs at your heart.

"Shhhhhh…." You try to make your words soothing, reaching up to stroke his beard. "It's all right." You lick your lips, trying to think of how to phrase your next comment. "It's not that I don't want this, but now really isn't the best time…" Obi Wan closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

"I know. I'm trying…" his words are halfway between a groan and a growl. You bite your lip, and make a decision.

"Well then," you purr, "let's do something about that." His eyes snap open, as wide as saucers as your hand snakes down his chest, inside his pants and grasp his length. You move your lips to his ear.

"If you want me to stop, tell me and I will." He swallows, and nods.

"If-if you don't want to, you don't ha-" his words break off into a moan as you begin to stroke his very hard organ. One hand practically crashes down onto the wall beside your ear, supporting him as he struggles for composure. All of which is lost as your hand continues to move on his length. You almost loose your grip when his lips close down on your earlobe, suckling on it desperately. As it is, you give him a squeeze, drawing out another moan. He gasps, and stutters out pleas to continue, and you feel the telltale trickle of wetness beneath your own pants. You try to shut out your own arousal, and focus on his. Soon enough, he is stifling louder and louder cries, before he buries his face in the crook of your neck to mask a yell, just as he explodes on your hand, coating it with a sweet, sticky cum. His hands grasp your hips tightly, as his orgasm spends itself, until at last his whole posture relaxes into you. You remove your hand, and don't move; letting him ease. He doesn't move for a long moment, then he lifts his head up and quickly moves away. He doesn't meet your eyes.

"We should probably get moving. It won't be long before the troops start attacking, and we should be ready to escape. You glance down at the telltale stain on his pants, the look back up at him and raise an eyebrow.

"Whatever else we do, you're not going anywhere like that." He flushes bright red, muttering something under his breath as he pulls a handkerchief out of a compartment on his belt.

It takes a bit of imagination, but the two of you manage to clean up his pants to the point that he can walk around without embarrassment. The General clears his throat, and straightens.

***

Obi Wan could barely restrain his embarrassment. It took a great deal of control to stop the flush from staying on his cheeks. And the shame. Musn't forget that. Despite all of his years of training as a Jedi, all of his experience…he lost control. This was inexcusable. He tried to resign himself to the fact that he would have to never see her again, he couldn't. A part of him still needed her. But why? What was happening to him, and why couldn't he control it? His mind spun as he tried to unravel the situation, but he simply couldn't. So he temporarily solved the problem by ignoring it. He mechanically led them through the dangerous maze the building had become. For awhile, he was able to forget his problem in the complexity of the task before him. Sneaking around and through a battle while trying to keep an injured companion unscathed was no easy task. Somehow, though, he managed it. He felt a rush of relief when the clone troopers recognized him, and he was ushered back to command, and she sent without delay to the Healer. Good. She would finally get the care she needed from the blaster wound. Once again, he lost himself in the task of trying to win the battle before him, trying to ignore the pang he felt at the look on her face when she left him. Like he had abandoned her. He felt himself caught between the desire to sigh and the desire to smack himself. He managed to suppress both, and made a mental note to check up on her as soon as he had the chance. In private.

***

At last, peace. As soon as they made it back to their own side (no easy task, in the middle of a battle; you still aren't sure how the General had managed it), the General was ushered to the Command center, and you were taken to the Healer's tent. A check for infections and a bacta patch later, you were lying in a bed, still in the tent, for "observation", in case anything went wrong. A lovely, soft bed, without the danger of someone finding and shooting you in the middle of the night. Lovely. But all things come with a price. Yours, is confusion. With all of the thoughts racing around in your head, you couldn't sleep. So, here you are, lying in bed, eyes wide open as you try to untangle the frantic mess in your head. When your first attempts at comprehension met with no success, you decide to slow down and make a list.

Item one: you have been having erotic dreams, involving someone who bears a suspicious resemblance to General Kenobi. Item two: you had caught him, late one night, "relieving" himself. Item three: you have been finding yourself increasingly more attracted to him. Item four: in the enemy comm center, tensions between you two had come to a head, and you had "relieved" some of his pressure for him. Item five: during said exchange, he initiated it, and acted like he needed it so badly, he could no longer control himself. Although he seemed to try pretty hard not to. Item six: once you left the comm center, he had seemed at first bewildered, then almost cold to you. Why? Had you displeased him somehow? A small, vulnerable part of yourself insists this is so, but when you look back at the list, you have to admit it wasn't likely this was the case. All the facts pointed to one simple conclusion; he was afraid. As a Jedi, he wasn't expressly forbidden from such exchanges, but they were frowned upon. And, as he seemed to have devoted his life to becoming a model Jedi, he must have tried to avoid this at all costs. But, in only a few nights, he meets a girl he sort of likes, becomes infatuated with her, and permits himself to loose control. It's more complicated then that, of course, but that's probably the way he'll see it. All of a sudden, he's in a situation he never counted on. He's confused, and afraid, and doesn't know what he's supposed to do. You sigh. Men. Why do they always have to complicate the simplest things? You look up as the door opens, and see General Kenobi enter hesitantly. You feel caught between a snort and melting. He's probably worried that he hurt or offended you. On the one hand, it is very frustrating. On the other, it's quite adorable of him. When he sees you looking at him, he stops, uncertain of whether or not to continue. You give him an encouraging smile.

"I came to see that you were all right. You did risk your life for me, so it seemed the proper thing to do." He sounded confused. You gesture for him to come closer.

"Of course, please come in." He nods cordially, and approaches your bed. He hesitates a moment, then speaks.

"I believe, my lady, that I owe you an apology. Back in that…room, I-lost control. I wish that I-" he tried to continue, but you hold up your hand, halting him.

"There's no need to apologize, General Kenobi. Seeing as I was the one who…took over, as it were, I think I owe you an apology. You were vulnerable, and I took advantage." Your words come out calm, but you mind screams at you. Why, why are you doing your best to drive this beautiful man away? General Kenobi takes in your words for a moment, then nods and gives a slight bow.

"I will try not to bother you anymore, unless it is work related." He spins around and walks purposefully towards the exit. Just as he reaches it, words pop out of your mouth before you can stop them.

"What about the dreams?" Obi Wan freezes, and slowly turns around. He looks genuinely taken aback.

"I-I beg your pardon?" You look down and toy with the blanket in your hands. You remain silent for a moment, then speak. You describe your dreams to him, what you suspect from them, and what you saw him doing that night. The silence in the room is deafening, and you only look up when you hear the door click shut. You don't move for a moment, staring at the door, your mind blank in shock. You then turn around, bury your face in the pillow, and cry yourself to sleep.

Chapter 5

Obi Wan couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned, meditated, used every remedy he had ever heard of, and he couldn't sleep. He kept remembering the sound of her crying after he left the room. It haunted him. He tried to distract himself, to think of something else, anything. He should have been more careful what he wished for. Now, he could only remember the feel of her hand, squeezing and stroking him, the way she felt and moved with him inside of her in his dreams…. And now, he was unbearably hard. Try as he might, he couldn't remedy this. He had tried to take a cold shower, even to attend to himself. But his condition wouldn't resolve itself, and his actions only left him feeling hollow, and aching. His body needed her. He needed her, a small part of his mind continued to insist. He tried to ignore it, to relax his mind and body into sleep. But he couldn't stop thinking about her, wanting her…

It was driving him mad, with longing. Longing for a woman who he had caused nothing but pain. Even if he went to her… would she even accept him now? He had hurt her, he knew. Because he was afraid, he had caused her pain. How could she ever forgive him?

You'll never find out of you don't ask, a part of him inserted. He tried to growl at it to be quiet; this whole discussion was foolish. Despite his protests, he found himself rising from bed, and dressing. He threw on a robe sufficiently large to hide his arousal, and a pair of slippers, and walked over to the Healer's tent. She would still be in a private room for the night, just in case. Better then the barracks, anyway. He reached her door, started to knock, the hesitated. Before he could stop himself, he found he was slipping quietly into her room, careful not to wake her. He walked over to the side of her bed, noting how angelic she looked while fast asleep. He sighed softly, then removed his robe and slippers, and slid quietly into bed beside her. He barely had time to question what he was doing before he found himself snuggling up to her, pulling her warmth close into him, and holding her. She let out a quiet noise of pleasure in her sleep, and snuggled back into his chest. He inhaled sharply as her buttocks came into contact with his prominent arousal. He could easily lie all night like this, with her in his arms, but there were other things demanding his attention. He pressed his lips to the crook of her neck, suckling the skin there and receiving a quiet moan in return. He nuzzled up her neck, placing kisses here and there, before closing his lips around her earlobe. His hands, which had been stroking her stomach and making her wriggle in his arms, sneak under her shirt to caress and worship her breasts. He held in a gasp. They were perfect. It was about then that he stopped thinking altogether, and his body took over. He suckled on her jawline, pinching and caressing her breasts, until she woke, breathing a muzzy inquiry. She turned in puzzlement towards him, and he captured her lips in a fierce kiss.

***

You can't think. All you can do is feel. His hands on your breasts, his lips… Force, he feels good. You moan into his mouth as he explores your mouth with his tongue. You want more then anything to just enjoy the situation. But something inside you stops you. You break from the kiss, and grab his hands, pulling them away from your breasts and stilling them. A hurt and confused look crosses his face, and he waits for you to explain. "No." You begin. He blinks, trying to keep the pain and longing from showing, but you see it in his eyes. "Either you love me, or you don't. Either you want me, or you don't. I know you need this, but I need a commitment one way or the other. Which is it?" General Kenobi looks away from you for a moment, lost in thought. His hand twitches, as if eager to get back to the business of making you loose your mind. Finally, he hesitantly leans forward to nuzzle your neck. "I'm sorry," he whispers in your ear. "I am sorry. The way I reacted earlier…I was frightened. Can you forgive me?" You hold back a sigh. You shouldn't give in this easily. Shouldn't let him make amends for so grave an offense so quickly, but you can't help it. You can feel his breath on your forehead ghosting down to your neck, making your body come alive with hunger. And it wasn't just your body that needed him; your soul called out to his like a lost lover on a misty shore. You didn't really feel complete without him. Those few hours he hadn't been there in the medical tent, you felt lost, alone, drifting. You hadn't given much thought to it before now, but the things you had seen during the war made you realize how precious life really was. You were being given a chance here, but how to know if he wasn't deceiving you?"

Reaching upwards, you cupped his cheek in your hand. "Obi Wan?" He looked up, meeting your eyes with a startling intensity. "Yes?" His voice is apprehensive, awaiting your reply.

"I hear you, I understand you; but I have to know the truth, the honest truth. I know this might sound foolish, but please, show me what you feel? I need a sign one way or the other." His eyes turn troubled at your request, and for a moment, he looks away. You can feel his tension, and find yourself cupping his cheek and stroking his beard gently. When he turns back to you, his eyes have turned a smoky aqua. He reaches forward to cup your cheek, managing to convey such love and tenderness with the simple gesture that it makes your heart ache. He frowns slightly, his eyes tensing up in concentration. You start to ask him what's wrong… and then it hits you.

Your brain explodes as his mind floods yours with all of his feelings, desires, everything. You could feel his love, as though it were palpable and wrapping around you much like his arms currently were. You could feel the truth in what he told you. It was hard for him to express his emotions the way he wanted. Jedi training isn't very conducive to that sort of thing. Everyone has their flaws, right? It is only fair to allow him his. Floating around his love for you was something else, though. Something that took your breath away.

Need. Need, passion and desire; all for you. So much so, that it literally takes your breath away. You can see deep into his heart, and therein you find yourself inorexably and hopelessly tangled with desire, need, and love. You can see now that he needs you, as much as he needs air. The combination of need and love and desire makes you dizzy, and you open your eyes to look at him. His face is full of tension and fear. How will you react to what he has shown you? Words fail you at the beauty you see before you. You know you need to say something, but what? You settle for grabbing the back of his head and kissing him hard. He groans in gratitude, his tongue sliding into your mouth, exploring there and drinking you in as though he were dying of thirst. At last, you pull away, and lean into his ear.

"Don't ever hurt me again." He gives you a solemn nod. "Oh, and General?" You add, making it sound like an afterthought. His face goes blank, and he gives you a gentle, questioning look. You try to think of the best way to phrase your next query, but come up short. Instead, you reach down and cup the very prominent bulge in his pants, turning your head to nip at his ear. His eyes flutter shut and he groans into your ear. You can feel his breath on your shoulder as he pants desperately. He drops his face down and buries it in the crook of your neck. You give a startled gasp and squeak as his rough beard tickles your senses. He growls into your neck at your reaction, and you struggle to keep your concentration on stroking him. After a moment, he reaches down and pulls your hands off of him.

"No," he growls. "Last time it was only I who was pleasured. It is only fair that this time you get your…satisfaction." You only have time to swallow before he turns, pinning you under him, ravishes your lips with his. You whimper steadily under the assault, until his lips break from yours, allowing him to rip your shirt over your shoulders, and toss it off to the side. His lips descend, landing on your neck, which he eagerly explores. His mouth and tongue travel down it slowly, taking time to discover all the spots that make you moan, and paying each one special attention. By the time he reaches the crook of your neck, your head is spinning and you can barely see. He buries his face in the crook of your neck again, suckling and rubbing his beard against your wet skin, making you squeak and whimper loudly. His hands surround your back, holding you gently but firmly to him as his mouth descends again, making its way to your breasts. You pant in anticipation as his mouth approaches one achingly hard nipple. He pauses a moment, just before he reaches it, and looks up at you. His eyes glitter with mischief and naughtiness as you try to find enough of a voice to beg. Before you manage to, he leans up to place a quick kiss on your nose, then dives down to make one nipple disappear inside his mouth. You groan loudly, feeling the combination of his rough beard on you, the wet suction on your nipple, and his tongue playing with it inside his mouth. You back arches into him as you mindlessly whimper. His hands exert a slight pressure on your back, enough to hold you in the air and spare you some of the effort. Its purpose is twofold, though, as you try to relax your back down and find it inhibited by his large, warm, calloused hands. His mouth abruptly releases your nipple, and slides over to the other one. You try to protest during the meantime, but when his mouth touches you again, all thought goes out the window. You whimper and claw at the sheets, desperately seeking…something. You're not sure what. All you know is that you are quickly loosing your mind because of this man. After what seems like an eternity, he releases your breast and gently allows you to fall back to the bed. You try in vain to catch your breath as he kisses his way down your chest to your stomach, and finds another sensitive spot. His eyes go wide as it occurs to him to look around there, and he proceeds to tease you with mouth and lips and tongue, and even teeth as he nibbles, suckles and licks in search of every spot that makes you moan. His hands move down to toy with your pants before shoving them down your legs as his mouth finishes with your tummy. You struggle to kick your pants and panties off from around your ankles as his mouth and tongue caress up the inside of your thighs. You manage to kick them into a bunched up wad at the bottom of the bed as his tongue caresses the crease where your inner thigh meets your hips. This all feels so good… and then you have to fight a scream as his mouth leaves you. You can feel his arms inadvertently brushing the insides of your legs by your knees, but other then that, only his breath on your opening serves to drive you wild. You finally find the strength to beg, but all breath leaves you as his mouth closes on your opening. His tongue enters you, flicking lightly, and explores as he suckles on you. You whimper and moan loudly, your breath coming in gasps. His tongue carefully searches inside of you until it finds your g-spot, then slowly but incessantly rubs it as he closes his lips around your clit and brazenly sucks it. You fight hard to keep your voice from raising to a yell; the last thing you want is someone walking in on this. You feel his mind hesitantly close in on yours, waiting for permission before he helps you keep your voice under control. With all that, all you can manage is a succession of whimpers. Obi Wan is patient, though, attending to all of your sensitive spots until you finally burst, your hips rutting uncontrollably into him. He makes pleased noises over your soft cry, eagerly lapping you up until your back finally relaxes, and you collapse back onto the bed, panting. He crawls up to you, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. His arms wrap around you, and he holds you close in a loving embrace that permeates you so, that you throw your rubbery arms around him and hold him in return. He releases you after a bit, nuzzling the side of your face gently. His hips rub against you slowly, and you feel his rock-hard arousal pressing against your hips. You glance up at him with wide, startled eyes, and he laughs.

"Don't worry, love. I'll let you catch your breath before proceeding. But once you do…" a sly, mischievous look crosses his face, and you realize that you are in trouble. He laughs again, nuzzling you and holding you close. Perhaps later, you two will play more at your games. For now, you hold each other tightly, and you sense in him that his desperation has left. He has you now, as you have him, and neither of you will escape.

fin

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