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Joy Ride - an ABH

by: Sherrie

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

Rating: PG-13 in this part, NC-17 elsewhere

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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Part 7

Suddenly their shouts of triumph turn to shouts of terror. Curiosity just barely overcomes your terror and you find yourself looking up and back where the two men no longer seek you like an injured rabbit. Instead they stand frozen in place with stark terror now written boldly across their faces.

Fear, shock, and hope course through your veins. There, standing between you and the two men, is a vaguely familiar figure with his back to you. A wand of bright blue/white light juts out from his right hand. He holds the wand of light menacingly in front of the two men. With curdled screams, they turn and flee, scrambling up the ridge faster than you fell down it.

The figure holding the wand of light stands motionless until well after the two men are gone. Then silently, the wand of light shrinks and disappears into a tube you hadn't noticed earlier, held tightly in his hand. Around him the fury of the storm seems to have been banished by his presence.

Obi-Wan turns towards where you lay on the ground. With swift strides he crosses the distance and kneels on the ground next to you. Wordlessly he gathers you in his arms and takes a silent inventory of your injuries. You cling to him, shivering from the cold, fear, and shock.

You feel great heaving sobs well up from deep in your chest. You can't hold them back. Obi-Wan clutches you to his chest silently as you bawl your tears out. Grimacing through the bitter rain, he pulls you gently to your feet. "Come on, let¹s get you out of this rain."

You lose all track of direction and time. The tears keep flowing freely down your face as he gently guides your stumbling body through the woods. At some point you're hoisted up onto the back of his Yamaha and you hold on tightly around his waist as he drives the bike. The wind bites at you ferociously, freezing your limbs solid. But this time, there is no warm jacket to put between you and the wind's teeth.

Vaguely you recognize the cabin when the bike comes to a stop. You're limbs no longer function and you feel yourself being lifted in strong arms and carried inside. It feels like deja vu, being carried into the cabin again.

Inside, he sets you down on a chair in the kitchen. Silently he stokes the wood stove and then fills the kettle with water, setting it on the stove to heat up. He disappears for a brief moment, only to reappear with soft towels and flannel robe.

"Strip," he commands in a stern voice. You look up at him uncomprehendingly.

"Get out of those wet clothes now, before you catch your death of cold.' He kneels down before you and takes off your shoes. Comprehension slowly filters through and you start fumbling with the buttons of your shirt but your cold and shaking fingers won't cooperate.

Obi-Wan smiles slightly and helps with the buttons. Your own sense of modesty seems to have flown the coup and you feel no shame as he bares the skin of your torso. Like a parent with a child, he takes the towel and begins to vigorously dry you off. You flinch and cry out in pain as the towel agonizes each and every cut and scratch.

'By the Force, I'm so sorry...." he whispers as he tends the worst of the scratches. Gently he pulls you standing and you list to one side, trying to keep your weight off your injured ankle. Swiftly he strips your jeans off you hips and down your legs, only to gasp with shock at the marks on your legs.

Tenderly he sits you back down again and ministers gently to your legs, drying you off with great care to avoid further pain. Finally he finishes and wraps the flannel robe around your shoulders and then another towel around your wet hair.

The kettle on the stove finally beings to sing. Standing back up, Obi-Wan takes the kettle off the stove and pours it into a porcelain teapot. A rich hearty aroma from the steeping tea slowly fills the room. Without your cold wet clothes, and sitting next to a warm wood stove in an oversized flannel robe, you finally start to feel the icy fingers of shock drain out of your body. The pain from each cut and scrape slowly die away to a dull ache.

Obi-Wan looks at you again, his face stern, his jaw tight and his brow furrowed slightly. Without a word, he leaves you alone in the kitchen for a few minutes. When he returns, you notice he has changed clothes. His damp hair is spiky and mussed. You feel foolish as you realize that he too had been wearing cold wet clothes the whole time he was tending to your needs. You feel guilty for having not noticed earlier and your face flushes slightly.

Obi-Wan grabs a mug out of the cupboard and fills it with tea from the pot, stopping for a moment to add several spoonfuls of sugar and a hearty dollop of milk from the refrigerator. He kneels before you again, placing the warm mug in your hands.

"Thank you...." you whisper.

"You're welcome," he replies softly.

He remains kneeling in front of you another moment, then moves to the chair across the table from you.

You take a tentative sip of the tea, it's hot rich taste soothes your jangled nerves.

"Aren't you going to have any?" you ask him.

He smiles at you, that wide, boyish grin again, "No...I can't stand the stuff," he laughs gently. "But I know Master Qui-Gon loves it. He can't figure out what's wrong with me."

"Thank you," you reply again. But his laugh is infectious and you can't help but to stifle a giggle. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh at you," the laugh bubbles out of you.

"No, it's okay, you can laugh at me if you want. It's true, Master Qui-Gon never could convince me to like the stuff." His expression of innocence sends you into a fit of giggles and he laughs outright with you.

Slowly his laughter fades and concern returns to his strong young face. "Are you sure you're all right?" he finally asks.

You take a deep breath and try to crowd out the unpleasant thoughts lurking in the back of your mind.

"How do I know you're not going to try controlling me?" you ask, your voice just barely above a whisper.

His eyes drop to the floor for a moment and he sighs deeply before capturing your complete attention with his piercing gaze. "You must believe me when I say that neither Master Qui-Gon or myself would ever do anything to betray your trust."

"I want to believe, but I just don't know how I can when..." you trail off.

"Then allow me to help you see the truth of it," he calmly replies. He reaches across the table and places one hand along your face, cupping your cheek in his palm. "Will you allow me?" he asks softly.

You hesitate, not quite knowing what it is he wants of you. Finally you nod, your curiosity winning out over caution. After all, this man has yet to do anything that could be considered threatening. He¹s twice rescued you after all.

He drops his hand from your face and takes your hand in his. **Open your mind to me....let me show you the truth** You feel the words in your mind and start to freeze up and freak out again.

"Oh whoa....this is too weird...." you lean back in your chair away from Obi-Wan, pulling your hand out of his grasp.

**It's all right. You are safe. Nothing will harm you.**

"This is freakish.....you're.....really telepathic?? How do I know you're not going to brain wipe me or something?"

"Please...." Obi-Wan begs, desperation and anguish starting to contort his face. **All will be revealed if you will allow me...** Biting your lip and taking a deep breath, you nod your agreement. **Just relax**

You feel the slightest tingling sensation in your mind and you feel your eyes grow wide. Obi-Wan nods reassuringly at you. You close your eyes and try to relax. Ever so slowly you feel another presence in your mind. The presence solidifies in your mind and you feel yourself 'reading' as if from an open book. You can see in your minds eye the truth of Obi-Wan's claim, as well as his life's history, his whole past and the truth behind his existence. Everything about him becomes as clear and plain as day. Even his wants, his needs, his desires....yes, his desires, become apparent to you.

You can feel the truth there of his desire for you, but at the same time a tight check rein holds him back, as if it's not his place to make known his desires. At the same moment you realize his desires, you feel a door closing, shutting you off from that part of his mind. Softly, the presence in your mind fades away into nothingness.

You open your eyes. Obi-Wan is still staring you in the face, hope written plainly across his features.

You take a deep breath. "I just have one question..." you start.

"Just one?" he asks incredulously. You giggle at that.

"Where is Qui-Gon?"

Obi-Wan's face breaks out in a grin and his eyes grow bright and cheerful again. Very pointedly, he turns his gaze through the kitchen doorway just as you hear the front door open. Enraptured by the intimate communication you were sharing with Obi-Wan, you didn't even hear the base rumble of the Harley approach the cabin.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon bellows, "Where is she?"

"In here, Master!" Obi-Wan replies.

Qui-Gon sweeps through the doorway and into the kitchen, his hair wet and unbound and his jacket streaked with rain. In a flash he is kneeling before you, hands and eyes assessing your state and inventorying your injuries. Absentmindedly you notice that some of your wounds still weep blood, staining the borrowed robe.

When he finishes his examination of you, he looks up into your eyes. The pain and relief in his eyes shoots through to your very core.

"Why did you run?" he asks you, pain and concern making his voice rough with emotion.

"I....I was frightened," you whisper. His eyes blink in confusion. "But I'm not frightened anymore." You cup his face with your hands and lower your face to kiss him gently on the lips.

"I showed her the truth, Master," Obi-Wan volunteers. "She knows who and what we are."

Qui-Gon glances at Obi-Wan and then back at you. A slow smile breaks across his face. He leans forward and pulls you slightly forward in your chair to wrap you in his strong embrace. But as he does so, your injured ankle bangs up against the leg of the table and you scream with the pain.

"What is it, dove?' Qui-Gon demands, concern wrinkling his brow.

"My ankle....' you moan.

He pulls the wet jacket off his shoulders and tosses it to one side. Warm gentle hands encircle your tortured ankle, pressing gently and twisting ever so slightly until your muscles bunch up with the pain of it again.

"Come dear, let's get you to bed so I can tend to your...many wounds," Qui-Gon grimaces. Tenderly, he lifts you from the chair and sweeps you up into his arms. You gratefully sink into his strong arms as he carries you from the kitchen into the bedroom. With care for your twisted ankle, he lays you on the bed. "I'll be right back," he soothes.

He returns after a moment to sit on the edge of the bed, a small jar in one hand and an ace bandage in the other. "Lie still," he commands as he carefully begins wrapping your injured ankle with the ace bandage. That accomplished he opens the jar and peels back the robe from your arms and legs.

With attention for your worst wounds first, he gently smears an unguent from the jar over the scrapes and cuts. Your breath hisses in your throat as each cut stings like a deep papercut.

"I'm sorry..." Qui-Gon whispers each time you flinch, "sorry...." Worry and pain furrows his brow.

Obi-Wan stands in the doorway, "Master, perhaps it were best if she sleeps..."

Qui-Gon halts his doctoring and looks back at his apprentice. "Perhaps you're right, Obi-Wan." Looking back at you, he moves up the side of the bed to sit by your shoulder. He places a hand on your forehead, "You should rest my dear. Sleep....sleep."

You feel your eyelids grow heavy and sleep claims you swiftly.

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TBC