My Two Jedi

Title: My Two Jedi
Author: Ginny Powell, aka JAshipNOW
Setting: A few years before TPM
Rating: NC-17, for explicit het and implied slash
Disclaimers: I don't own them, but I'm sure George Lucas' Mommy
taught him to share his toys, especially the pretty ones. No Jedi
were harmed in the writing of this fic; in fact, several had a very
good time.
Warning: Obi-Wan smut may be addictive. Suggested treatment: read
more, more, more! Then write some, and send it to me!

/ denotes telepathic conversation.

Part I

I've always hated these official parties. Everyone pretends to have
a good time, but no one really does. At least the food is usually
good. And the wine. This Alderaanian claret is especially nice.
Perhaps if I drink enough of it, it will help my mood. Oh, wait, I
already did.

At least this particular party does have one thing going for it – the
Jedi. I'm not sure what his name is. We weren't formally
introduced; I was doing my usual background "don't mind me in the
hood" thing during the negotiations. Part of the point is that the
people I'm monitoring don't notice me, so don't shield themselves
from me. I'm not sure if the Jedi was shielding me or not, since I
never had an excuse to probe his mind. He was here as a sort of
monitor as well, a mediator. Thanks to him, the talks went well and
quickly, and that slimy Bolton can go crawling back to his home
planet tomorrow.

I suppose the Jedi will go, too, though, which is a pity. His mere
presence has brought a lightness to the royal court that I shall
sorely miss. Even now, standing as he is between two opulently
dressed members of the Beta Congregation in his rather drab robes, he
shines. It's not just that he's gorgeous, though he is. It's those
piercing blue eyes that seem to see right through you and suggest
that there's more to him than just his serene Jedi persona. And then
there's the way he moves, like a feline on the prowl, confident and
masculine and virile…

Whew, I really should stop. But I can't help it. I find myself
imagining what he looks like without all those too-concealing
clothes. Yes, I imagine, he's quite impressive. Mmmm. I lick my
lips at the thought.

Oops. Now he's looking at me. I must be being too obvious. Time
for more wine.

When I turn back from the bar, he's standing right there.

"Hello, I don't believe we've been introduced. I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi."

He's holding out his hand, so what can I do but take it. "Meera
G'Nal. And actually, we have met. I was the one in the hood." With
my free hand, I pantomime the opulent covering that made me seem more
part of the furniture than the royal delegation. And it makes my
nose itch.

"Yes, I know. The tath.ath." He's still holding my hand. His hand
is very warm, and gentle. His thumb strokes my palm as he leans in a
little closer, whispering through the noise of the crowd. "You might
not be aware of this, Meera, but Jedi are somewhat telepathic." As
he said this, he smiled a quite charming, somewhat naughty smile.

And then I understood. I'd been broadcasting again.

When you're the only telepath on a planet full of mind-blinds, it's
easy to remember to block. Not only is eavesdropping on other's
thoughts illegal, but it tends to give one a headache. But I
sometimes get lax about broadcasting – who's to know, after all?
Well, apparently, this Jedi knew. And he'd seen that picture I'd
conjured up of him naked.

Before I could get over my shocked embarrassment, the Alton was
suddenly at the Jedi's side.

"Jedi Cannoli," the Alton slurred, "great job. Great job. Couldn't
have done it without you." The leader of my planet had apparently
also been dipping into the wine a bit too much. He put an arm across
Obi-Wan's shoulders, as much to hold himself up as to greet the
younger man. "Come on, there's some people who want to meet you."
And he was leading my Jedi off through the crowd. Our hands parted
reluctantly. His eyes pleaded with me, but I was powerless to save
him from my garrulous boss. No sooner had I watched them be
swallowed up by the crowd, but I fled to my room.

I busied myself in changing out of my dress and taking down my hair.
I tried to read, to take my mind off the Jedi, but it was fruitless.
At least the talks were over, he would be leaving in the morning, so
I wouldn't have to face him again. By the Mother, I felt so stupid
for having committed such a faux pas. Only the youngest initiate,
fresh from the programming pod, could be forgiven such a mistake.

Believe it or not, it took me some time before I realized that the
Jedi hadn't been upset about my mental picture. He hadn't been
admonishing me. He'd been reciprocating.

Once again feeling stupid beyond words, I rushed to the door. But I
couldn't very well return to the party in my sleeping gown. Should I
dress again? I was flustered, confused, which I will use as my
excuse for doing what I'm not supposed to do. I scanned the palace.

The rules for telepaths are very specific, and the punishments quite
harsh. But as we are almost impossible to police, the reality is
that I can do what I want most of the time. Only during review
periods must I be truly on my guard, when a committee of my seniors
come to interview and scan me. But I am at heart a law-abiding
citizen, and try not to let the temptations of my position influence
me. So as I scanned, I did not try to read the true motives of the
Bolton, who I sensed was still at the party – I assumed the clustered
group of loud, confused minds was the party. And I brushed past the
Alton, as well – the dirty depths of his mind were unfortunately
already known too well by me. I refused to linger on the several
angry, passionate, or greedy thoughts that surged through the minds I
sensed. I searched for one mind, and one mind alone, and when I
found it – oh, my joy at the answering brush of his mind against mine!

One of the rules for telepaths is that we may not form relationships
between us. And since having a relationship with a mind-blind is
really out of the question as well, we tend to be a lonely lot. Not
that I haven't sampled the possibilities, but I have found them
wanting. But now, here was an opportunity I had not foreseen.
Apparently the Committee did not know of the Jedis' telepathic
abilities, for they were not on the forbidden list.

I, for one, was not about to tell them.

Within that answering brush I found all that I could want.
Curiosity, desire, and an openness that was quite intoxicating. He
let me see through his eyes, watch as he made his goodbyes to the
circle of faces. Inside his mind, I did not feel a voyeur, an
intruder, as I so often do when asked to scan the unwilling. Here I
felt a welcome guest, embraced by his thoughts, his very essence. I
think I swooned. When I was aware of myself again, I knew suddenly
what he was doing.

He was coming for me.

Though he had seen only the smallest, most public parts of the
palace, he was using our mental ties to find me, following my trail
like a lighthouse beacon. I couldn't allow that. I couldn't have
anyone be seen entering or leaving my rooms; it was forbidden. On
the other hand, I was not about to tell him to just forget it. In
desperation, I drew from his mind a picture of his own guest rooms,
and presented it to him, hoping he would understand.

Telepathy is often misunderstood by normals. It's really not about
words, although they do occasionally enter the picture. But usually
our thoughts are not so well-formed as to be directly translatable.
Part of telepath training is learning to interpret the jumble of
thoughts in a subject's mind. I could only hope that the Jedi would
take my hint, and head for his quarters. I would do the same.

Grabbing my robe, I slipped out into the hallway. I had some hope of
moving about unseen. Not only did I know the corridors and passages
of the palace well, but I could sense where the guards were and avoid
them. And, in a pinch, I could cloud their perception of me as I
passed. Yet another thing forbidden to me, but at this point, I
really didn't care. The prospect of an encounter with even a semi-
telepath, and a beautiful, willing one, had me in quite a state. If
the Alton himself were to order me to his bed tonight, I would
refuse, and damn the consequences.

I continued to send my request as I moved through the palace halls.
I could feel the Jedi moving, too, feel that he understood. Saw him
reach his rooms and wait for me just behind the door. And, at long
last, I was there, and the door was opening for me, and I stepped
inside.