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Joy Ride - an ABH

by: SherrieK

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Summary: You¹re a long way from home on a dark road in the middle of nowhere.

Rating: NC-'7

Disclaimers: Grand Master Lucas owns Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan lock, stock, and....ah...yeah, barrel. Damn. I guess I¹ll just have to put them back when I¹m done. I got no money-honey, so don¹t come looking to sue me for any.

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From part 4.....

With a small thought to the growing chill, you pull at the edge of the blanket. Qui-Gon¹s long arm reaches over behind you and pulls the blanket up and over both of you. You snuggled up against him and tuck your head beneath his chin. His hand draws slow lazy patterns on your back.

A noise at the door jolts you out of your reverie. Obi-Wan walks through the door, carrying a sack under his arm. His face looks a touch flushed and you can tell he¹s trying hard not to look in your direction as he quickly scoots towards the kitchen.

"I didn't hear the motorcycle..." you whisper to Qui-Gon.

"Oh, Obi-Wan got back about "0 minutes ago...." he replies.

Realization dawned slowly, "You mean.....he's been....out there waiting.....for "0 minutes??"

Qui-Gon nuzzles your hair, "Mmmmm hhhhmmmm. Now.....try to get some rest....."

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Part 5

Awareness slowly creeps through your eyelids. Heat, sound, and smell tiptoe into your groggy brain. Slowly you open one eye.

You're still on the floor, wrapped in the blanket, but you can't feel Qui-Gon's warm body. The fireplace is blazing merrily away in front of you, spreading it's warmth over you like a down quilt. In the next room, you can hear the sounds of pots and pans gently rattling and scraping while someone merrily whistles a little ditty. The smell of bacon and buttermilk biscuits wafts over you making your stomach rumble.

You sit up and stretch. Bones pop and tendons scream. You check yourself over, but only find a few bruises on your elbows and knees, and some slight abrasions on your hands and knees. You figure you probably got off lucky.

Outside, the light of day is somewhat subdued. Through the window you can see gray clouds in between the breaks in the trees. Looks like rain, you think to yourself.

That whistling voice in the next room tantalizes you. A crafty plan forms in your head and you let the blanket around your shoulders fall to the floor. Let¹s see how much it takes to pull that sexy man¹s attention off breakfast, you think to yourself.

You creep up to the edge of the doorway as quietly as you can. The whistling continues unabated.

You suck your stomach in and arch your back a little, making your breasts jut out, and step into the doorway. "Good morning," you purr with the most sultry voice you can achieve.....And almost scream!

<<CRASH>>

Obi-Wan stands in shock in the middle of the kitchen, a spatula in one hand and a frying pan clattering at his feet. The sound of the frying pan on the floor reverberates in the kitchen for a moment, then silence for a brief second.

Down the hallway, a door is jerked open. Qui-Gon storms out and rounds the corner into the kitchen. "What's going on!" Qui-Gon¹s voice shouts. "What happened?!?" he demands. He drips water all over the kitchen floor as suds slowly drift down his shoulders from his hair. He holds a large towel around his waist with one hand.

With a leap, you almost hurdle the overstuffed chair to get back to the blanket you abandoned on the floor. If you could have crawled underneath it like a bug you would have. Instead you fling the blanket around your shoulders and huddle behind the chair.

"I....ah...." Obi Wan stutters. "She....ah....must have thought you were in here, Master," he finally gets out. "I'm sorry, Master, I was so startled I dropped the pan."

You hear an amused snort. "You didn't waste any of our breakfast did you?" Qui-Gon asks Obi-Wan.

"Only my own I think..." Obi-Wan gulps.

"Thank goodness for small miracles," Qui-Gon replies bluntly.

Under the cover of your blanket and the two men's conversation, you beat a hasty retreat down the hallway looking for the bathroom and the shower so hastily abandoned by Qui-Gon. You shut the door behind you and lean up against it trying to calm your frazzled nerves.

The water is still spraying in the shower. Steam rises in billows and clouds. You take a few moments to piece yourself back together. A soft knock at the door draws your attention.

"Would you mind if I were to finish my shower?" the lilting base voice asks softly.

Bashfully you turn and open the door slowly to admit Qui-Gon. You can't help but to giggle a little at the funny figure you see standing before you, hair sopping wet and still dripping soap bubbles, towel held closely around his lean hips. He looks at you expectantly until you realize you're standing in the doorway.

"I...I'm sorry..." you start.

He smiles back at you, warm and open. "It's all right really. But I would like to get this soap out of my hair." He shuts the door behind him and allows the towel to drop from his waist before stepping back into the shower. You find yourself taking a good long look at his lean flanks, strong thighs, and powerful backside before the shower curtain cuts off your viewing.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Huh?" Your mind is definitely somewhere else. You sit down on the lid of the commode.

"I said, did you sleep well?" Qui-Gon repeats.

"Um....yeah...I guess so."

"Good. Now, be a dear, would you, and hand me that washcloth next to the sink." He sticks one hand out from behind the shower curtain, palm up, waiting for you to place the cloth in his hand. Another idea hatches in your mind, only this time you're certain of the identity of your 'victim'.

You drop the blanket from around your shoulders and grab the washcloth from the rack next to the sink, squeezing a large dollop of soap onto it from the pump. Silently you slip through the curtain on the far side from where Qui-Gon's hand waits. He stands in the tub with his back to you and you have a hard time stifling an appreciative moan at his magnificent backside. The water from the shower head sprays directly onto his chest and shoulders and splashes in all directions.

He flinches momentarily as you slip an arm around his waist and pull him tight against you. "Here, allow me...." you murmur against the skin of his back. You start gently rubbing the cloth along his shoulder blades while pressing your naked breasts to the small of his back. "Mmmmmmmm......" he rumbles.

His hand pulls on your arm around his waist, pulling you around to stand in front of him under the pounding of the water. He places his hands on your shoulders. You continue to massage him sensuously with the washcloth across the muscles of his chest. He watches you with hooded eyes as you continue to lather the soapy cloth over his skin.

You caress the cloth across and down his left flank and over his hip and buttock, and then switch to wash his other flank. With gentle care, you stroke the sensitive skin between his thighs with the cloth. The telltale sign of his growing arousal fairly leaps before your eyes. You purposefully pay close attention to the skin of his hips and thighs while equally purposefully avoiding his ever growing erection. He takes a few steps back, pulling you with him out of the way of the water.

You look up to see that his eyes are closed and his face is a mask of pleasure. You sink to your knees and continue your ministrations. His legs twitch and jerk as you pass the cloth over the skin at the backs of his knees. By the stars, you realize he¹s ticklish behind the knees! You grin broadly and bite your lower lip and tickle him in earnest. He breaks out into a sheepish laughter and twists to try and avoid your fingers. "Hey!" he protests.

Relinquishing your claim on his knees, you turn your attention northward. Slipping your arms behind him, you pull his hips close to you. His laughter turns to gasps as you swipe his hardened cock with your tongue. His whole body tenses. He holds exquisitely still as you lave him with your tongue, his only movement the heaving of his chest.

You run your hands up his flanks. His hands find yours and he entwines his fingers in yours. Unable to resist any longer, you slip your lips over the swollen head of his cock and suck it deep into your mouth. A loud groan originating deep in Qui-Gon's chest explodes from his lips. His hands clench yours tightly.

You back off slightly and swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock. His hips quiver and buck under your hands. You plunge down on him again, evoking another choking gasp from him.

Then his hands pull you up and off him. Bending down a bit, he grasps the backs of your thighs and pulls you up to his waist. You throw your legs around his waist as his lips claim yours. A low, deep growl emanates from deep in his throat as he sets you down on his erection, impaling you slowly, sending wave upon wave of pleasure shooting through your body.

Qui-Gon throws his head back and moans out his pleasure, "Oooooh.....soooo good...."

Strong arms start to slowly lift your hips and then relax to let you settle back down on his shaft. You sigh and grip your legs around his waist even tighter. His arms grip you tighter and set a rhythm of lifting and relaxing. Each movement sends you a little higher.

You can feel his whole body start to vibrate underneath you as he speeds up your movement. With a stumbling step, he turns you against the wall of the shower and begins lavishing your face with kisses, stopping momentarily to run his tongue along the edge of your jaw toward your ear and finally latching onto your earlobe and suckling at it.

With your body balanced against the shower wall, he grinds his hips against yours, pumping his shaft into you like a piston. Your breath rasps in your throat as you moan uncontrollably. Qui-Gon's voice joins in, groaning his pleasure into your ear and against your throat.

Faster and faster he pumps into you, smashing your buttocks into the tiles. You can feel the sensations rise in you the way a tidal wave rises as it approaches a shallow bay.

Distantly you can hear Qui-Gon's impassioned growls and moans as you both skyrocket towards climax. When you do come, you feel as if an enormous wave is carrying you along at dizzying speeds to crash headlong into an ocean of pleasure. Your whole body jerks and spasms and Qui-Gon lets out one final deep roar and you feel him veritably explode within you. Sparks fly beneath your eyelids and you sink towards oblivion.

When awareness reasserts itself, you find yourself tucked under Qui-Gon's chin and held tightly in his strong embrace. With a deep sigh, he turns you into the spray of the shower and sets you down on wobbling knees. Gently he begins to wash you with the washcloth you had abandoned not long before.

Once satisfied with his job, he moves you out of the water and finishes washing himself off.

A few minutes later, clean and dried off, he guides you out of the bathroom and into the one of the cabin's two bedrooms. He shuts the door behind you, only to reappear a few moments later with your satchel of clothes. You gratefully take the satchel from him and he shuts the door again.

Left to yourself, you finish drying off and change into a clean pair of jeans and a blue button-down shirt. You answer a soft knock on the door and open it to admit Qui-Gon, dressed now in loose fitting jeans and a soft, long sleeved flannel shirt.

"Are you hungry?" he asks, a warm smile on his handsome face.

"Starving," you reply, licking your lips teasingly. Qui-Gon's smile freezes and his eyes glint wickedly. Perversely, you brush past him and duck out the door, leaving him standing and staring at you as you swing your hips and walk down the hallway.

In the kitchen, Obi-Wan is busy at the stove with a frying pan full of eggs. He turns and flashes a half guilty smile at you as you walk in and sit down at the small oak table tucked into the corner. He cheeks look a little flushed again. Probably from embarrassment from earlier, you figure.

"Would you like some tea?" he asks you. "I brewed up a pot for Master Qui-Gon, but I'm sure he'll be happy to share it with you if you'd like some. Unless of course you'd like some of that...coffee."

"Thank you," you reply gratefully. "Tea would be wonderful."

You smile your thanks at him as he places a large brimming mug in front of you. You sip at it tentatively. It's just right, sweet with sugar and rich with milk. No Baileys' this time.

You look up as Qui-Gon walks into the kitchen. He claps Obi-Wan on the shoulder before walking over to the table to pull up a chair next to you. "Good morning, Obi-Wan."

"Good morning, Master," Obi-Wan replies, a quirky smile on his face.

"I trust you slept well?" Qui-Gon asks him.

"Hmmm, well, except for our 'friends' coming back last night, yes, I slept well enough," Obi-Wan comments to Qui-Gon as he sets a plate full of food in front of you. You dig into the scrambled eggs and bacon with gusto.

"Oh, and did you tell them to go away?" Qui-Gon asks calmly.

"They were rather worked up, but with a little 'persuasion' they left without causing too much of a fuss." Obi-Wan places second plate of food on the table, this time in front of Qui-Gon.

"Wait a sec, what friends? What kind of persuasion?" you ask tentatively.

Obi-Wan looks you square in the face. "Your 'friends' from the gas station,"he states with a touch of sarcasm. "And they just needed a little....talking to."

"You mean you had to fight them off again? How did they know where this cabin is?" you whisper incredulously.

Obi-Wan snorts, "No. Don't worry, I only had to lift a hand." He looks briefly at Qui-Gon who returns the glance. "And as for how they got here, well, I'm afraid they probably saw me in town and followed me back here." He shrugs a little bit sheepishly.

You feel your breath hitch in the back of your throat. "They won't be coming back, will they?"

Obi-Wan grins, "No, they won't be coming back here again. In fact, I doubt they'll even remember where this place is unless they're thicker skulled than I gave them credit for."

Silence falls in the room, but for the clinking and clattering of utensils on dishes. A sudden thought crosses your mind.

"How did you know I was in trouble?" you ask the two men. You catch them exchanging glances across the table.

More silence.

Obi-Wan speaks up first. "We heard your screams for help. What else could we do but try to even the odds," he offers quickly, a little too quickly.

"Wait a minute," you contend, suspicion starting to throw you off, "How could you have heard me scream when I was way back in the woods, miles from anywhere."

Obi-Wan looks at Qui-Gon for a moment, then stares at his hands folded on the table in front of him.

Qui-Gon sighs softly, "Actually....it's really more like we heard you in our minds."

Your eyes go wide for a moment. "What, you mean like some kind of psychic crap?" You can hardly believe you're even contemplating such a possibility.

Qui-Gon's eyes narrow a bit, "Yes, you could perhaps say something like that. You see," he pauses.

"Yes?" you prompt. This conversation is heading in a dramatic direction and for some reason you don't feel very comfortable with it.

"Actually, it's something you would probably call 'telepathy',²" Obi-Wan blurts out. Qui-Gon scowls at his apprentice for a fleeting a moment, so quick you almost miss it.

"Oh, I don't believe this. You really want me to believe you two are telepathic?"

"Yes, we are," Obi-Wan affirms.

You stare at Obi-Wan for another silent moment. His eyes are mirthless and innocent, yet as deep and old as an ancient well.

More silence.

**We could hear your silent screams for help long before your vehicle was run off the road, my dove** a soft presence asserts itself in your head. It's almost like hearing voices, but not quite, more like seeing words without seeing anything in writing. You look up at Qui-Gon, his blue eyes are intense and seem to look right through you.

"Whoa, here, wait a minute guys," you start to back peddle away from the table. "I'm not anybody's 'dove' here." Qui-Gon's eyes flicker at that last bit. You point an accusatory finger at him, "So that was you in my mind just a moment ago, wasn't it!"

**Yes** that voice again in your head reaffirms in tandem with a nod from Qui-Gon.

"Holy shit, I think I must have cracked something back there last night..." you back further away from the table. A second thought freezes you in your tracks. "Wait a sec..."you turn and pin Obi-Wan with a glare, "did you say that those guys left here last night with a little...'persuasion' I think was the term you used?"

Obi-Wan drops his head and stares at his hands again.

"To answer your question," Qui-Gon volunteers after a silent moment, "yes, 'persuasion' is the word that was used. You see, with our ability to speak mind to mind, we can also influence the minds of those around us. We can make an angry person forget why he is angry. We can...."

You cut him off, "What the hell do you mean influence?" You can hear your voice taking on a hysterical sound, "How the hell do I know you didn't use a little of that influence last night on me? And just a little while ago in the shower?" Qui-Gon's face starts to flush. "My god, what kind of men are you to take advantage of someone like that?!?" Qui-Gon's face now turns white at your tirade, as if dawning horror is leaching away his blood. You can tell you're getting to him.

"No, please, believe me....I would never..."

"How can I believe anything you say!" you cut him off again. "My god, talk about out of the frying pan and into the literal fucking fire!"

Obi-Wan's face is a mask of horror. Qui-Gon stands up, his arms outstretched towards you, "No, please...you must believe me..."

"Must I??? Must I???" you shriek. "I'm getting the hell out of here while I still have my mind intact!" You run from the kitchen, grabbing your satchel on the way out the door.

Behind you, both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan cry out for you to wait and let them explain. Yeah, explain away, creeps, you think to yourself.

You throw open the door and race outside. The air is cold and you feel it's bite through the light material of your shirt. Overhead, the gray clouds are now dark and foreboding. The wind rattles the tree branches overhead. Heedless of the warnings of weather and the calls of the two men, you run down the dirt road away from the cabin.

You don't get very far before your pounding heart and your aching lungs slow you to a jog and finally a walk. Determinedly you keep going. Over and over in your mind, you find yourself replaying last night's adventure as if it were one long horror movie. First the creeps from the gas station, then your rape (you can't think of it as anything else now) at the hands of your would be rescuers.

Behind you, the hum of a motorcycle engine gives you a new surge of energy. Instinctively, you know that if you stay on the road, they *will* catch up with you...and quickly! Without hesitation, you veer off the road and plunge into the forest undergrowth. Saplings, vines, and tall weeds impede your progress, but you frantically claw your way through anyway.

The sound of the motorcycle grows louder.

Just ahead a particularly dense thicket blocks your path. You see your path of escape blocked, but the thicket's potential as a hiding place lures you in. Desperately you dig into the weeds and vines and pull them close in behind and around you.

The motorcycle sounds grow even louder, until you're certain the bike is only a hundred yards or so away from you on the road. The engine slows a bit...then speeds up again and the engine noise rips off down the road.

You breath a sigh of relief and take another good look around. You put your back to the road and strike off into the underbrush. The branches grasp and scrape at you, but the further you get from the road, the more open the underbrush becomes. Overhead, the opposite is occurring as the canopy gaps close up almost entirely. The branches overhead seem more tightly knit than your grandmother¹s cross stitching. You continue to push on through the forest, maintaining as straight a path as you can.

Without a watch, you have no idea what time it is, or how long it's been since you ran from the cabin and raced off into the woods. And with no sun to gage your progress, time seems to drag on into eternity.

Finally you push through another particularly thick patch of undergrowth...and stumble out onto blacktop. Silence surrounds you except for the rush of wind through the treetops high above you. Overhead, dark gray clouds lurk just above the treetops, carried along by the rush of the wind. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles low and foreboding. A two lane road stretches out to either side, both ends disappearing around curves.

Throwing your satchel over your shoulder again, you take a deep breath. "Eanie, meanie, minie, mo," you chant to yourself while trying to decide which direction to take. You finally decided to turn right, after all, the left hand is the sinister hand and you've had plenty of sinister to last you a whole year!

After you¹ve walked past " mile markers, you hear a car off in the distance. Ah ha! Rescue at last! With any luck the driver will be more than willing to give a stranded young woman a ride to the nearest town!

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TBC