My Two Jedi

See part I for disclaimers, etc.

Part II

“Meera,” he whispered as he closed the door and stepped toward me. Along
with his spoken word, he sent a picture, my picture, the one I’d so foolishly
concocted at the party. Only he had added to it, enhanced it, and I was in
it, too, and…

Suddenly it was all very real, too real, and I pressed myself back against
the door as he reached for me.

“I’m sorry,” I heard him say gently. My eyes were squeezed shut. “I
thought…”

“You thought right,” I hastened to say. “But- It’s just- I don’t- I don’t
often-” I hate it when words fail me, as they did now. Even my thoughts
were failing me, I was so uncertain just then of what I wanted. I craved,
desperately cr, th, the contact we’d promised eacher, er, and yet it
terrified me. Living in the world of incorporeal thoughts has made me leery
of the physical world. As have some of my experiences in that physical
world.

“That’s okay,” he said soothingly, taking a step back to give me room. “We
can just-” and a tiny probe caressed the shields I’d thrown up in my distress
“-talk.”

I nodded, once more feeling stupid. Here he was being so nice, and I was
just making things difficult. I needed to sort out what I wanted, and fast.
No, truth be known, I knew what I wanted. I just needed to work up the
courage to let it happen. I let him gesture me to the couch, let him sit
near enough to feel his warmth, but not quite touching me. And waited.
Waited for him to do something, somet tha that would somehow get me over my
fears.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” he said, still using that gentlesootsoothing tone of his. Perhaps if I just listened to voice for a while, my
cowardice would melt beneath its warmth.

“Anything.”

“Are you…human?”

mig might seem an odd question, and I could tell even without scanning him
that he was worried it would offend. But actually, I get that a lot, so it
no longer bothers me. People with pale green skin, jet black eyes, and
purple lips aren’t terribly common, after all.

“Yes,” I answered, projecting my ease so he would know I did not take it
badly. “I was born here on Alpha in the usual way, to normal parents. The
coloration is just a side effect of the genetic reprogramming.” Telepathy is
so rare, that those of us who are found to have even some of the genes are
manipulated as soon as we are discovered, usually as infants. No one knows
if the coloration is really just a side effect or if it was intentional. It
does tend to keep us from running away. “Does it…bother you?”

“Oh, no, I quite like it,” he assured me. Truthfully, I could tell, as my
blocks were, slowly, drifting away. “It makes you look exotic. Unique.”

“No one has ever put it quite that way before,” I smiled back, pleased.

“People who don’t know their own minds are naturally fearful of those of us
who can see into them,” he replied sagely.

“Then you have…been inside another’s mind before?” I meant that willing,
deep contact that we had shared, however briefly.

“One other. My Master’s. I could…show you.” Again a gentle caress across
my
weakening shields. This time I let him in.

A montage of images, of memories. A tall man, smiling down at me – no, at
Obi-Wan, when he was a boy; I was seeing things as he had seen them. The
same man, growing older, his long hair tinged with silver, still smiling,
still looking down, though not quite as far down. That they shared each
other’s thoughts was evident. And over it all, I could feel Obi-Wan’s deep
love for his Master. Before I could form the question, I had the answer.
/Qui-Gon Jinn,/ the words formed in my head.

“But having you inside my mind was…different,” Obi-Wan was saying even as the
images flowed over me. “I l it. it.” And added to his continuing touch was
an
invitation.

Before I could chicken ou too took it.

And I was once again in his mind. He was so open, the access so deep, it
made me gasp. He had no ses, ns, no shame. Well, maybe I shouldn’t be so
broad. He might have had some secrets, somewhere, blocked so expertly from
me as to be invisible. And I didn’t much care. Besides the uppermost
thought on his mind – that he, like all Jedi, had had removable clips
installed at puberty to prevent impregnation – all I wanted to know, self-
centered asm, im, is how he saw me, really. And so I meandered through his
thoughts until I found an image of myself. I was at partparty, standing
alone, holding a wine glass, looking around me in a bored way. I was barely
recognizable to my own eyes. Surely
my dress wasn’t really that tight, that revealing. Did I really stand that
way,
so…provocatively? Toss my head so my earrings dangled just so? Apparently,
or at least that was the way I seemed to Obi-Wan. I could feel his
attraction for me like a warm current flowing through the image.

Then there was me, now, my eyes closed as I looked through his at myself. My
hair, chestnut, with just a hint of a wave, was down on my shoulders. My
robe had loosened a bit, showing the lacy top of my sleeping gown. One pale
green bare foot trailed absently through the deep pile of the rug, the other
tucked underneath me. He was watching me. Watching me watch him watching
me. It was convoluted, and confusing – and oh, so intimate.

My respiration rate was increasing, along with my pulse. I felt a surge of
desire, mixed with power. If I wanted, from where I was inside his mind, I
could make him do anything. Anything. But I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t make him,
that is. I would let him.

It was the merest whisper of a thought, a murmur, a flash, all I could work
up the nerve to offer. But it was enough. In that flash, he saw us to
s
saw his golden skin against my green, pink lips against lavender. Saw what I
wanted, but was afraid to ask for. Leaning forward, he touched my cheek with
the fingers of one hand.

I opened my eyes, leaving our link in place so I could see him, and also see
him seeing me. But my voyeuristic tendencies were forgotten in the wave of
purely sensory pleasure that washed over us both as our lips met.