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fragmentsofthegalaxyIt took time for the tension between them to reach its breaking point. After her initial release from the bacta tank she’d been soaking in for several weeks, she was grounded upon their return home, kept to the Temple to continue treatment; the healers wanted to monitor her for a while longer, due to the severity of her injuries. She had bacta treatments every other day, and the healers kept a close eye on her.
It was for the best, she supposed. She knew that making sure her injuries were healed completely before sending her on another mission was prudent, but being grounded ate at her. But it gave her space, from other Jedi (aside from the healers, of course), and from Obi-Wan. After their... moment of weakness on the ship things had been awkward. So keeping her distance from him for a time seemed a very good idea.
No matter how much she might miss him.
Of course, once she was released to active duty everything changed. She was sent on a mission with the very person who she had thought to give space. Fortunately they had Cody and Boomer joining them; perhaps their presence would help keep the awkwardness to a minimum.
The mission was supposed to be simple. But they never were, and this one was no different. Their mission was a success, but it ended with them singed, Boomer nursing a broken arm, and Siri limping, bleeding from a wound in her side. It was nothing a bacta patch couldn’t fix, but the... starkness in Obi-Wan’s eyes, his expression, caught her by surprise. She opened her mouth, to say his name, to ask him what was wrong... only for him to turn on his heels and stride back towards the ship. Leaving her standing there, hurt and speechless. Boomer put his good hand on her shoulder, and she gave him a small smile.
“Let’s get off this kriffing planet.”
She retreated to her room as soon as she boarded the ship; the bacta patch she’d placed on her injury was already working, so there was no point in going to the medical bay. She would much rather not leave her room until they reached the Temple.
There was no reason for anyone to visit her there, so when she felt Obi-Wan approaching her room, she was apprehensive, and worried. She opened the door the moment he stepped in front of it.
“Kriff, Obi-Wan, I’m...” she trailed off at the expression on his face. That same starkness... and something else. Before she could say anything else, ask him what was wrong, he was closing the distance between them and crushing his lips against hers in a soul wrenching kiss.
Oh.
She gasped against his lips and kissed him back fervently, grabbing fistfuls of his robes and yanking him into her room, the door closing behind them. There was no thought of their arrangement, no hesitation, just want and need and a desire to reaffirm that she was there, that she was alive.
There was a franticness to their actions, as she struggled to rid him of his robes and he worked to undo the fastenings of her unisuit. She couldn’t stop touching him, though, which made getting him out of his robes a lot kriffing harder; and from the way his hands wandered over her body the same was true for him. They made it to her bed in a tangle of limbs and fumbling at clothing. He began pressing kisses to the line of her neck and she arched up against him with a gasp. There was still too much clothing in the way, and she was far too impatient. She grabbed fistfuls of his robes and he broke away from her just far enough for her pull his tabard and over-tunic over his head and fling it across the room. He yanked off his under tunic and returned his attention to her neck, her jaw, his hands pushing her unisuit off her shoulders and down to her waist. As difficult as it was to focus, to THINK with his lips doing that to her skin she fumbled at the fastenings of his trousers.
In no time at all the rest of their clothing was strewn about the room, and there was no more delaying. Nothing to keep them apart.
Their first time lying together was frantic, driven by want and need and twenty years of repressed, ignored attraction and desire. The second, and the third, and the fourth weren’t. They took their time, losing themselves in each other while they could. By the time they finally fell back, exhausted, their skin glistening with sweat from their... exertions, there was a love bite or three beginning to show on his neck and collar bone and her skin bore evidence of close, prolonged contact with his beard.
With a tired, leisurely kiss, they fell asleep in each other’s arms. The next day they would agree that this was a onetime occurrence, and that it would be added to their arrangement, to never be spoken of.
That would turn out to be an unnecessary measure in the end.
It was for the best, she supposed. She knew that making sure her injuries were healed completely before sending her on another mission was prudent, but being grounded ate at her. But it gave her space, from other Jedi (aside from the healers, of course), and from Obi-Wan. After their... moment of weakness on the ship things had been awkward. So keeping her distance from him for a time seemed a very good idea.
No matter how much she might miss him.
Of course, once she was released to active duty everything changed. She was sent on a mission with the very person who she had thought to give space. Fortunately they had Cody and Boomer joining them; perhaps their presence would help keep the awkwardness to a minimum.
The mission was supposed to be simple. But they never were, and this one was no different. Their mission was a success, but it ended with them singed, Boomer nursing a broken arm, and Siri limping, bleeding from a wound in her side. It was nothing a bacta patch couldn’t fix, but the... starkness in Obi-Wan’s eyes, his expression, caught her by surprise. She opened her mouth, to say his name, to ask him what was wrong... only for him to turn on his heels and stride back towards the ship. Leaving her standing there, hurt and speechless. Boomer put his good hand on her shoulder, and she gave him a small smile.
“Let’s get off this kriffing planet.”
She retreated to her room as soon as she boarded the ship; the bacta patch she’d placed on her injury was already working, so there was no point in going to the medical bay. She would much rather not leave her room until they reached the Temple.
There was no reason for anyone to visit her there, so when she felt Obi-Wan approaching her room, she was apprehensive, and worried. She opened the door the moment he stepped in front of it.
“Kriff, Obi-Wan, I’m...” she trailed off at the expression on his face. That same starkness... and something else. Before she could say anything else, ask him what was wrong, he was closing the distance between them and crushing his lips against hers in a soul wrenching kiss.
Oh.
She gasped against his lips and kissed him back fervently, grabbing fistfuls of his robes and yanking him into her room, the door closing behind them. There was no thought of their arrangement, no hesitation, just want and need and a desire to reaffirm that she was there, that she was alive.
There was a franticness to their actions, as she struggled to rid him of his robes and he worked to undo the fastenings of her unisuit. She couldn’t stop touching him, though, which made getting him out of his robes a lot kriffing harder; and from the way his hands wandered over her body the same was true for him. They made it to her bed in a tangle of limbs and fumbling at clothing. He began pressing kisses to the line of her neck and she arched up against him with a gasp. There was still too much clothing in the way, and she was far too impatient. She grabbed fistfuls of his robes and he broke away from her just far enough for her pull his tabard and over-tunic over his head and fling it across the room. He yanked off his under tunic and returned his attention to her neck, her jaw, his hands pushing her unisuit off her shoulders and down to her waist. As difficult as it was to focus, to THINK with his lips doing that to her skin she fumbled at the fastenings of his trousers.
In no time at all the rest of their clothing was strewn about the room, and there was no more delaying. Nothing to keep them apart.
Their first time lying together was frantic, driven by want and need and twenty years of repressed, ignored attraction and desire. The second, and the third, and the fourth weren’t. They took their time, losing themselves in each other while they could. By the time they finally fell back, exhausted, their skin glistening with sweat from their... exertions, there was a love bite or three beginning to show on his neck and collar bone and her skin bore evidence of close, prolonged contact with his beard.
With a tired, leisurely kiss, they fell asleep in each other’s arms. The next day they would agree that this was a onetime occurrence, and that it would be added to their arrangement, to never be spoken of.
That would turn out to be an unnecessary measure in the end.