*************

 

Title: ABH: Forced Idleness

 

Author: Darth Diebin <[email protected]>

 

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Rating: Smut

 

Archive: All lists

 

Disclaimer: I kidnapped him from the God King Luc@s . . . and I’ll probably

have to give him back soon. I bet we all agree that I’m making good use of

him though, right?

 

Dedicated: To Amber, who hopefully won’t kill me when she realizes that I

wrote this instead of Darth Story . . . and who has inspired me in many

ways.

 

Author’s Note: It started out without a plot, then got a plot, then I got

rid of the plot, but the plot kinda of hung around, so I don’t really know

what it is. *g* You decide. Oh, and no one beta-ed . . my mistakes are my

own.

~~~~~~~~~~

 

“General Kenobi.”

 

Obi-Wan turns at your voice, a brief look of annoyance flickering over his

face before he can completely suppress it. You can almost hear the

thought--::What /now/?::--echoing back from him as he straightens in his

chair. “Yes?” he asks briefly, his eyebrows furrowing together as he regards

you.

 

You shift nervously before you can stop the gesture, unable to completely

ignore the way this man can make you feel transparent when he looks at you.

“Message coming in for you, Sir,” you respond, trying to hide the exhaustion

coursing through your body after thirty hours without sleep. “From Master

Jinn.”

 

“Good news,” he says, voice vibrant with relief. He stands and stretches

before nodding for you to lead the way. “The first good news I’ve heard in

days.” A hand on your shoulder stops you, and you turn to meet Obi-Wan’s

eyes. “If I can presume to ask, Master Healer--why are you playing

messenger? There should be plenty of other people who could have carried the

message--and you are already far too busy.”

 

“Six more this afternoon,” you respond curtly, spinning on your heel and

starting down the hallway again. “One or two more and we’re going to have to

go back to pick up a new crew.” You sigh, the weight of your problems coming

back to rest on your shoulders again. “Only problem is, we’ve got an

epidemic on our hands, General--and I don’t know what the cause is. Until I

do, we can’t risk spreading it to populated worlds.”

 

You can feel the way his eyes bore into the back of your head as he speeds

up to keep up with your rapid pace. “Have you slept at all in the past two

days?” he demands suddenly, stepping around you and stopping you.

 

You glare up at him. “Master Jinn is waiting, General.”

 

“Master Jinn is a patient man,” Obi-Wan responds, crossing arms over his

chest. “Have you slept in the past two days?”

 

“Have you?” you counter, stepping around him to continue down the hallway.

“I’m as much a Jedi as you, General Kenobi. I may be a Healer, but I’m just

as capable of going without sleep as you are. More so, since I understand my

body.”

 

“You can’t care for the sick if you work yourself into exhaustion.”

Obi-Wan’s voice is concerned, and you can feel the worry rolling off of him.

Without thinking about it you boost up your mental shields, effectively

blocking him out.

 

You stop in front of a door and gesture towards it. “Transmission is opened

in there. Get some sleep when you’re done talking to him. Consider it an

official order from the ship’s Healer.” Not waiting for a response you spin

on your heel and stride off down the hallway.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Fifteen hours later you’re starting to feel the effects of exhaustion

creeping up on you. You’ve poured so much energy into the sick members of

the crew, and even when you finally rid them of the sickness the victims are

too weak to move for weeks. The first patient you cured is just now up and

about--fit only to help care for the recovering, leaving you to pour even

more energy into the sick.

 

The crew is down to the barebones--just enough to keep the large ship

operational. Out of the fifty crew members, ten are still

standing--including yourself and Obi-Wan. Every single one of the crew

members left healthy is someone with an abnormally high midichlorian count,

something you realized only yesterday. While even more perplexing, at least

it gives you hope that you and Obi-Wan will be safe from the epidemic.

 

Someone has to be in charge here.

 

You’ve just risen from the bedside of the latest victim when you feel your

knees start to tremble. Healing the six latest patients was far more than

you should have done, but you found out the first day that if they weren’t

treated within twelve hours of the symptoms appearing, they would die.

Having lost three of the crew, you vowed not to lose anyone else.

 

It takes every bit of willpower in your body not to stumble away from the

bed, but before you can make it out the door your knees give out and you

collapse, barely able to crawl to the wall to brace yourself up before your

body loses all strength.

 

One of your recovering helpers must have called him, because it isn’t long

before a familiar pair of black boots strides into your line of vision. A

soft gasp is followed by the instant presence of arms around you, and you

can feel your body suddenly cushioned against a warmer, harder one.

 

“You’re insane,” a soft voice tells you, the harshness lost in the

overwhelming rush of worry. You catch a glimpse of yourself through

Obi-Wan’s eyes, suddenly understanding why he is acting so upset--you look

three days past death. Your brown hair is pulled from it’s normally neat

tail and hangs limply around your face, which is hollow and gaunt with

exhaustion. There are dark, deep circles beneath your eyes, which are

closed, revealing the bruised eyelids. Your entire face is as pale as your

tunic, and your lips are slightly blue-tinged.

 

It’s only then that you realize how cold you are, your entire body

trembling. You gave too much of yourself out, gave all of your Healer energy

and started dipping into your own lifeforce. If there had been just one more

patient . . .

 

The arms around you tighten as his strides lengthen, the movement of your

body making you dizzy. Clenching your eyes tightly shut, you succumb to the

feeling of exhaustion and let the world slip away.

 

::NO!:: The mental voice tears through your mind, hurting. You weakly

struggle to raise shields, but the strength of his mind is too much for your

weakened skills. ::Stay with me,:: he commands, his mind jerking you back to

the world. ::Open your eyes. Stay awake. Stay with me.::

 

You force your eyes open, meeting the anxious blue-green ones above your

face. Your body is still trembling, and you feel so cold that your brain is

almost numb. ::Sleep,:: you insist softly, letting your eyes slide shut

again.

 

::NO!:: The voice is even louder this time, and it hurts--but the pain keeps

you awake.

 

::So tired,:: you think, begging for respite. To sleep . . .

 

::You will stay with me.:: The command is harsh, the mind wrapping around

yours so insistent that you can’t help but obey. You’re vaguely aware of

movement, of hands on your trembling limbs.

 

The burst of hot water hurts at first, burning your freezing skin. You cry

out and try to escape the spray, but there are arms locked around you like

shackles, holding you underneath the water. One hand is cradling your head

to a broad chest, fingers rubbing your hair.

 

::You need to be warm,:: the voice says in your mind--not as harsh now, but

every bit as commanding. ::Try. Please try.::

 

The water slowly becomes bearable, and you relax as your body starts to warm

again. Your mind is drifting, not awake but not quite asleep.

 

You barely notice it as the water is cut off, the warm hands wrapping you

tightly in a large robe. ::Stay with me,:: the voice demands again, and you

sigh softly as the arms pick you up and carry you towards a bed. ::Awake,::

the voice commands. ::Awake.::

 

“Awake,” you murmur. The hands are rubbing you now, massaging your body even

as the mind slips deftly around yours. You can feel the energy slowly

pulsing through your body as Obi-Wan sends the Force flowing through you,

forcing your lifeforce to resume it’s normal cycle.

 

You open your eyes and fall into the twin pools of aqua-gray, drinking in

the worry and concern and caring as a balm to your soul even as your body

accepts the Force as a bandage to your shattered spirit.

 

“You terrified me,” he whispers, hands still rubbing at your right arm,

forcing circulation to return to your limbs. “You almost killed yourself.”

 

“Can I sleep now?” you ask softly, stretching your body out and feeling the

Force tingling through your skin. He energized your body, but your mind

still needs rest.

 

“You can sleep now,” he responds, reaching up to frame your face with long

fingers. “Sleep,” he whispers, brushing a thumb against your cheek. “Sleep.”

 

~~~~~~~~

 

You have no idea how much later it is when you next wake, but judging by the

presence of Obi-Wan next to you, arm tossed idly over your stomach as he

sleeps, you figure it’s probably night time.

 

Obi-Wan stirs beside you, one eye drifting open as if to check on you. When

he sees you looking at him the other eye snaps open and he pulls back,

sitting up.

 

“How are you feeling?” he asks, one hand drifting down to settle on your

forehead. You laugh slightly, surprised at how much effort it takes you.

 

“I don’t have a fever, Jedi Kenobi,” you say, smiling up at him. You stretch

slowly, feeling the muscles in your body pulling as if they’ve been without

use for a long time . . .

 

That’s when your internal clock catches up to you, and you let out a string

of curses so vicious that Obi-Wan blinks.

 

“What--” he starts, but you cut him off with another round of curses.

 

“I’ve been asleep for /three days/?” you demand shoving your body up and

swinging your legs over the side of the bed. “I need to get to the

infirmary, /now/.”

 

Obi-Wan laughs and snags you easily in one arm, pulling you back onto the 

bed and pushing you down. “No. We landed two days ago in a quarantined area.

There are four Jedi Healers on board, looking after the patients. One came

in here and told me that if I let you out of this bed, I’d be demoted to

Padawan and tossed right out of the army.”

 

“If we’ve landed, why are we still on this ship?” you ask, one hand coming

to your head to soothe the pounding headache you’ve just developed.

 

“You and I are under quarantine until they can figure out what caused the

illness,” Obi-Wan replied, settling with his back against the wall. “Even

though it doesn’t seem to affect those with a certain midichlorian count,

it’s very probable that we’re carrying the virus. We’re stuck on this ship

for at least another week.” It was obvious from the expression on his face

that he didn’t like it much more than you do.

 

“What are we supposed to do for the next week?” you ask, feeling the rising

dismay. Inactivity has never been something you were overly fond of, and

forced idleness is only relatively higher than torture on your list.

 

“You,” Obi-Wan says, placing a finger between your eyebrows and giving you a

stern look, “are going to /sleep/.” Obi-Wan gives you a wide grin. “The only

reason I haven’t sent you back to sleep already is because you haven’t eaten

anything but broth in the last few days. As soon as you’ve eaten, you’re

going back to sleep.”

 

At first you want to argue, but you learned long ago that there is little

Obi-Wan Kenobi won’t get once he has his mind set on it.

~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Chapter 2

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The next time you wake up your are snuggled up closely to a very warm body.

For a moment you don’t even open your eyes, letting the sensation of being

held warm and safe wash over you.

 

Obi-Wan is shirtless, his arms tangled around you, holding your back firmly

to his chest. One of his legs is thrown over yours, his head chin resting on

top of your head. One of his hands is drifting idly across your stomach,

drawing thoughtless little patterns that make you shiver.

 

Almost without thinking you press your back more firmly against him, seeking

for more warmth. The hand on your stomach suddenly freezes as he wakes up,

letting out a startled gasp.

 

“I’m sorry--” he starts, but you just shake your head, pressing against him

again. His desire for you is obvious, a firm pressure against your lower

back, heat so searing that is penetrates your shirt and his pants easily.

 

“Please,” you whisper, wiggling around until you can meet those glorious

eyes. “Please?”

 

“Why?” he replies, his voice a low groan. You can feel one of his hands,

creeping up your back under your shirt and running lightly over the skin of

you back. “You never--never wanted to before--”

 

One of your hands comes up to rest on his bare chest, his skin warm to the

touch. With a soft sigh you trace one of the muscles, watching as it

quivers. “You never asked before, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Looking up from under

lowered lashes, you smile slightly. “And I never would have dared ask you.”

 

“Why not?” Obi-Wan responds, his free hand pulling back to begin undoing the

buttons down the front of your shirt. “You’re a very attractive woman, when

you’re not half-dead--and you must have realized long before now that I

value you very much for who you are.”

 

“Ahhh,” you reply, still tracing the planes of his chest with an idle

finger. “But you’re General Kenobi. Legendary warrior, second only to Master

Jinn in the fighting arts. I’m just a lowly little Healer who happened to

get assigned to your ship--”

 

“--by my request, as you well know--”

 

“--and wouldn’t dare try to seduce to infamous General Jedi Kenobi.”

 

“How about if the infamous legendary totally insecure and yet mostly naked

General Jedi Kenobi tries to seduce you?” Obi-Wan asks, rolling over

suddenly so that you’re pinned beneath him, his face only centimeters from

your own. “Would you resist very much? Because if you did, I’d give up.”

 

“I could probably be persuaded,” you reply, arching your neck up to nuzzle

at his cheek. “But he’d have to kiss me first.”

 

“With pleasure,” Obi-Wan responds, tilting his head to the side and catching

your lips with his own.

 

The kiss starts off gentle, warm lips barely caressing your own before his

tongue sneaks out to trace the curve of your lower lip, urging your lips to

part.

 

The minute your mouths opened, it is if a floodgate had been lifted. All of

the stress of the past three weeks, your brush with death, his fear of

losing you--everything comes rushing at you at once, giving the kiss a

desperate edge. Before you can blink his hands are tangled in your hair,

tilting your head back as he slants his mouth across yours, tongue tangling

with yours with fierce desperation.

 

Your own hands come up to the back of his head, pulling frantically at the

tie holding his long hair into it’s utilitarian ponytail. His mouth grinds

into yours, sending shoots of electricity through your body, causing you to

make low moaning sounds of inarticulate need.

 

Finally his mouth leaves yours, leaving you panting harshly and trying to

regain your breath as his mouth slides down over your chin, tongue spiraling

intricate designs that burn and tingle. One of his hands has succeeded in

shoving your shirt off of your shoulders, leaving your collarbone free for

his attentions.

 

You let out a shuddering sigh that turns into a whimper as he licks at the

hollow of your throat, latching onto the pulse throbbing beneath his skin

and sucking hard. One hand travels up your body to cup your breast, thumb

sneaking out to caress the hard nipples as his mouth travels slowly down to

meet it.

 

You don’t bother supressing the moan that tears through you as his teeth

latch gently onto a nipple, worrying it softly before letting his tongue

snake out to soothe it, causing your entire body to arch up off the bed. His

only response is a low chuckle as he opens his mouth wider, sucking your

nipple between his lips and running his tongue around it as he suckles.

 

“Obi-Wan,” you gasp out, hands clenching convulsively where they’re resting,

one on his shoulder and the other tangled in his hair. “Please . . .”

 

His only response is to shift to the right, lavishing the same treatment on

your other nipple as his hand drifts up to caress your lips and face.

Catching one if his fingers, you suck it into your mouth and trace your

tongue up and down it, delighting in his harsh moan.

 

His mouth slides slightly down, leaving a trail of kisses and soft bites

down your side and over to your navel, where he traces lightly before

teasing it slightly with his tongue. You suck harder on his finger, starting

to slide your mouth up and down it, hearing him moan again.

 

You release his finger and murmur, “I’d love to do that somewhere else,”

into his hand, pressing a kiss into his palm.

 

“Soon enough,” he responds. Fingers hook into your undergarments, coaxing

them smoothly down your legs. “I’m busy right now.”

 

Your attempt at a witty remark is cut off abruptly as he nuzzles the curls

between your legs, nudging your thighs apart with his shoulders. The sudden

kiss he presses to the sensitive skin makes you cry out, needing him

suddenly with a longing that’s almost an ache. He only has time for one

teasing lick across your bundle of nerves before you tangle your hands in

his hair, pulling him firmly up the bed.

 

“Time for that later,” you gasp out, gluing your lips to his and kissing him

fiercely. One of your hands creeps down to plunge into the waistline of his

pants, clasping his erection and caressing it. You pull back and smile at

his ragged gasp as you squeeze his hardness carefully. “Now I want you.”

 

Large hands tug anxiously on the ties to his pants, snapping them with a

muttered curse when they foil his trembling fingers. You continue to caress

him as he struggles with his pants, trying to squirm out of them.

Unfortunately for him, every time he wiggles it only rubs his hardness more

firmly into your hand, making him gasp for breath.

 

“Need help?” you finally purr, your hand caressing the length before fingers

dance out to brush across his sides. Taking his strangled groan as assent,

you quickly strip him of the pants, cramming them into the corner of the bed

before squirming around to survey your prize.

 

::Large . . .:: is all you have a chance to think before warm hands close on

your shoulder, dragging you up to lay prone across Obi-Wan’s body. His mouth

seizes yours again as his hands travel up and down your back, touching with

frantic longing.

 

“Now?” you gasp out, pulling back to kiss one cheekbone. Obi-Wan groans in

response, rolling over without letting go of you. Hands grasp your thighs as

he leans in for another kiss, guiding your legs up around his narrow hips.

 

You let out a howl as long fingers slide into you, a howl answered by

Obi-Wan’s harsh moan when he finds how ready you are for him. For a few

moments he massages you before pulling back, replacing fingers with

something hot and hard.

 

“Beautiful,” he grates out as he slides slowly in, fingers clasping on your

hips as he tries to control his speed. You can feel yourself tossing your

head uselessly from side to side, ankles locking behind his back as you try

to pull him deeper, faster.

 

Suddenly his weight is on you, his body stretched out on top of yours. You

can feel him pulsing in your depths, his hips rocking almost desperately

against yours as he lets out little moans of need.

 

“Move,” you urge, rocking your hips against his and causing him to groan.

“Now.”

 

He pulls back a little ways before thrusting back in, hips rotating gently.

You can feel your eyes rolling back in your head as he repeats the gesture,

again and again, pulling back a little further each time.

 

Soon he’s pounding into you, his low moans echoing your own as his hips

grind against yours. Hands find their way under you to clasp your buttocks,

digging into your flesh as he pulls you upwards and changes the angle.

 

You open your eyes and moan at the erotic vision before you. Obi-Wan is on

his knees, fingers digging into your hips as he thrusts, golden chest

heaving. His head is tilted back, the glorious eyes closed. Honey-red hair

sticks to sweat covered shoulders and neck, a few strands hanging in his

face and swinging back and forth with his hypnotic strokes.

 

Feeling your gaze, Obi-Wan lets his eyes slide open. Passion and desire

swims in the gray-green depths as he drinks you in, letting lose a primal

cry as he thrusts even deeper. One hand slides around to brush against your

bundle, causing your body to jerk up, shoving yourself deeper on him.

 

“Come for me,” he pleads between thrusts, voice a cross between a gasp and a

growl. The fingers playing with you become more insistent, stroking and

teasing mercilessly. “Please.”

 

Your eyes slide shut as you feel the tremors began to start, your entire

body quivering as the overwhelming waves of pleasure pick you up and toss

you around. Obi-Wan groans deeply as your body tightens around him,

thrusting his hips even harder. With a harsh cry he collapses on top of you,

still thrusting as he claims your lips with his.

 

You can feel him bursting inside you even as you scream, lights flashing

behind your eyelids. Your entire body is trembling as you scream again,

riding the waves wherever they want to take you.

 

Whether you actually blacked or not is debatable, but it takes you so long

to regain your senses that you figure it doesn’t really matter anyway. Your

eyes drift open to see Obi-Wan hovering somewhat anxiously, obviously still

out of breath but even more obviously worried.

 

“I thought I might have hurt you,” he whispers, collapsing gratefully next

to you when you smile at him and shake your head. “You--you probably

shouldn’t have expended that much energy. You were still pretty worn out.”

 

Reaching up with one finger you trace his swollen lips, letting your smile

widen. “I’ll just skip the prescribed brisk walk around the ship, if it’s

okay with you,” you respond, smiling as your finger is caught between those

tantalizing lips and kissed gently.

 

“Well don’t think you’re going to trick me into doing that again until

you’re well rested,” Obi-Wan says with a straight face, hand drifting down

to caress your stomach. “I can’t have it said that I don’t take care of my

crew.”

 

You pout up at him, eyes wide. “What if I want you to do it again?” you ask

innocently, hand sliding down his abdomen. Before you can reach your target,

your wrist is caught in a tight grip.

 

“Oh no you don’t,” Obi-Wan whispers, his face suddenly very close to yours.

“Or else . . .”

 

“Or else what?” you respond.

 

“Or else this.”

 

Your eyes roll back into your head as he buries his face between your legs.

What scares you even more is how quickly your body responds . . .

 

Something tells you this may well be the best week of enforced idleness you

ever spend.

 

~~~~~~

 

 

Well? *g* How'd I do for a Baby Smut. ;)