Obi-Wan stormed through the underbrush. One good thing about actually being on

land now was that he could get away and cool off. He had always possessed a hot

temper, not even Qui-Gon had been able to free him of it. Pushing past thorns

and bushes, he came to a small clearing. He stumbled on a protruding root and

fell to his hands and knees. Cursing, he took out his lightsaber, turned it on

and slashed the root apart. Getting up, he walked to the edge of the clearing

and hewed down some thorn bushes. The energy of the light-blade withered the

branches. Obi-Wan's breath now came in gasps. He calmed down and started to

execute lightsaber moves in the middle of the area. Trusting, swinging,

blocking. His lightsaber was a blue blur as he practiced clearing his mind, as

his master had taught him.

Then he saw her face. Soft, smooth skin, shining hair and piercing eyes.

Shaking his head, he tried to wipe away the image. It went but was replaced by

another vision of her. He admired Alanae for her take-no-crap attitude but that

wasn't all. He couldn't put his finger on it. All these pictures in his mind

would torment him if he tried to keep focusing so he turned off his lightsaber

and slowly headed through the lush forest back towards the ship.

* * *

Alanae wasn't hungry anymore. She put away the food she had taken out and

retreated to the back of the ship. Maybe she could unlock some energy reserve

to get them at least as far so they could get more fuel.

* * *

Obi-Wan entered the Crimson Storm to look for Alanae. He had remembered her

injury and realized the bandages had to be changed to prevent infection. He

checked the cockpit, charting room and sleeping quarters with no success. Then

he heard some noises and followed them to a small compartment in the back. He

peered inside the dimly lit area and saw her surrounded with tools, tinkering

with Crimson's systems. She glanced at him then quickly looked away.

"What do you want?"

"Y—" Obi-Wan swallowed and fought against his impulse. "You're bandages need

to be changed."

"Not now."

"I know what I'm doing. Your wound can get infected."

"Later, okay?"

"Later might be too late, especially in here," he said, indicating the greasy

innards of the ship.

"If I let you, will you go away?"

"I'll leave you alone if that's what you mean."

"Fine," she dropped the tool she had been using. It clattered on the metal

grid on which she stood. Obi-Wan looked on, obviously not approving of this

treatment of tools. Alanae followed Obi-Wan slowly to the charting room, where

he had prepared the necessary materials. She sat down heavily. He gently lifted

up the hem of her tunic, just enough to get at her wound. She held it while he

discreetly unwound the bandages from her midriff. When he had removed them, he

took some gauze wetted with a light blue-colored chemical to clean the wound.

She stared straight ahead and didn't flinch at the stinging sensation that

flowed from her side. Obi-Wan instinctively brushed part of his hand lightly

across some of her smoother skin as he wiped the area clean. His sense grabbed

him and he immediately withdrew it. Alanae didn't notice, or at least pretended

not too. He skillfully dressed her wound and wrapped new bandages around her.

Then, Obi-Wan looked at Alanae's face, trying to read her emotion. She remained

still, with no readable expression on her features.

"I'm done," he informed her. Alanae dropped the hem of her tunic almost

mechanically and silently left the room. Obi-Wan watched her go, a forlorn

expression in his eyes.

* * *

Alanae had closed her eyes for most of the time she was with Obi- Wan. She

didn't want to fall in love. She couldn't fall in love. Hadn't she been raised

in the slums? Hadn't she fended for herself her entire life? She had thought

she'd removed all trace of emotion from her heart. But now, a Jedi, a member of

an elitist organization who was forbidden attachment, had awoken her

long-forgotten feelings. When she was near Obi-wan, her stomach was filled with

fluttering of many small wings. Alanae didn't trust herself anymore. She felt

strange in that room. What was the word? Intoxicated. His soft touch had sent

far more signals through her than the sharp pain that the disinfecting chemical

could ever hope to match. All her consciousness had been squeezed into the area

he had touched until all she felt was him.

Exiting the room, she had to force herself to put one foot in front of the

other, while at the same time, part of her was fighting to keep her from

running from his presence. She feared her uncontrolled emotions. She feared

him.

* * * * * * * * * *

A/N: dedicated to all who suffer unrequited love.