Chapter 14
Valia chided herself yet again for being restless and ridiculously nervous waiting for Qui-Gon's visit. Her pacing probably wasn't helping either of her legs any so she made herself sit down on the couch. She tried to calm herself and think of this as no different than if he showed up at her bar where she would serve him juice and wit. This was just a visit from a friend. A close friend.
She asked herself if there was more she wanted from this visit than just for him to see how she was doing. After all, he could easily check via video link or even commlink. But that wouldn't have given her quite a reason to put on such a fine outfit. Something you had to get up close and personal to truly appreciate. Something soft and touchable. The dark blue silk of the tunic and trousers whispered over her skin. The ensemble was very comfortable but fit closely at all the right places. She nearly darted into her bedroom to change into something else, suddenly fearing the neckline would appear too obviously low. When was the last time she had worried about such a thing? Well, at least the overtunic could be drawn further closed if she felt the need. It brushed the floor, in keeping with the fashions of the day. Finally, a style she could easily accommodate. She was so short nearly every garment was too long on her anyway unless it was altered. Clothing that dragged trainlike on the floor was supposedly the height of fashion in the Core Worlds.
Would she have dabbed a whisper of perfume on her throat for another visiting concerned friend? Hardly. Valia had done everything in the last year to sidestep or run from the man's virility. For her there was no escaping its potent attraction so she chose to confront and answer it with a few feminine wiles. Feminine wiles indeed, she snorted, resting her face on her hands. What was she doing? He loved her apparently for who she was, her heart and mind, not for what she was wearing. He was probably totally immune to such surface frippery, trained to not even notice it. She sighed and rose to start pacing the apartment again. Still, it felt all too good to pretty herself for someone again.
Normally she wouldn't have bothered with anything but a simple hairstyle that kept it out of her face. But since she'd had time to play with it, she'd woven it into a loose fish-bone pattern and tucked the long tail back under itself. She looked at herself in the small mirror in the foyer one more time. She gave herself a woozy, heavy-lidded smile. She did indeed feel a bit woozy. The drugs she'd been receiving were some powerful antibiotics. She glanced at the obnoxious heavy medical bracelet on her wrist. It was still monitoring vitals and delivering steady doses of medication into her skin. When the feedback to its detectors indicated she no longer needed it, the clasp would release. Until then, it was nearly part of her. The minute it opened, she planned to ceremoniously fling it from her balcony.
She jumped at the sound of the door chime and snapped herself out of her would-be seductress pose. Without her usual caution of checking the viewscreen to see who was there, she immediately stabbed at the switch to open the door. She knew who was on the other side. She just knew it was him. She could feel his presence through it as surely as if it was open. The door slid aside, and there he was, gloriously filling the entryway.
Qui-Gon's eyebrows hitched up a notch as he scanned his hostess.
"Did you check to see who was at the door before you opened it?" he chided ever so gently.
"I knew it was you. No, I didn't." How had he guessed that? "Come in. Hello." She backed away from the door, smiling at him.
"You really should stay in the habit of doing that, no matter what." He strode in, the door closing behind him.
"I know, I know," she sighed gustily, flapping her hands. She led the way into the sitting room.
"You went to work today." It was a question without really being one. Valia glanced over her shoulder at him. Of course she knew Obi-Wan would tell him where he'd found her. Not that she minded. He hadn't forbade her from working. As if he had the right.
"Yes, I did. Just for a couple of hours. Obi-Wan brought me home and I spent the rest of the day here, resting." She fought down an impulse to be sarcastic.
Walking behind her, Qui-Gon noted the slight unsteadiness in her gait. Maybe it was just limping. No, it wasn't. It wasn't stiff like a limp would be. Her eyes were a little glassy and she looked far too...relaxed. He studied her as she rearranged several large pillows on her couch.
"Lia...have you been drinking?"
She whirled around to face him, her dark blue duster flying. "What! No!" She stood in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips. "What is this, a damned inquisition?"
Qui-Gon stared at her. In spite of how irked she was at his questioning, Valia nearly laughed at the picture he made. He looked as though her outburst had flattened his ears back against his head.
He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "Forgive me. No, it is not." He was wearing his usual attire of tan and dark brown again. His face bore an expression of gentle concern, his hands folded in front of him. Despite his humble demeanor, he still seemed to fill her entire apartment, he was so big. That larger than life aura was emanating from him as well, leaving no space untouched by him, no room for her to think of anything but him.
"I've had good reason to be worried about you in the last day or so, wouldn't you agree?"
Valia walked back toward him, rubbing her forehead. "I'm sorry. I suppose, yes. But it's these drugs. I think. They're making me feel a little strange."
Qui-Gon studied her. His mouth quirked into a small sideways smile. She had actually primped and preened for him. She was ravishing. He speculated he would have to very carefully frame how he said it, but he wanted to tell her that her filth-spattered face of the night before was even now the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. Even when she took time to make herself up, she was without the least bit of artifice. Her pupils were dilated, making her gray eyes look bigger than ever. The blue color she was wearing suited her well. The way her hair was braided back exposed her delicate ears, giving her a vaguely elfin look. The sudden and appealing idea of running his tongue around the edges of those ears crossed his mind. He could imagine his hands sliding around the silky back of her neck where those short tendrils sprouted and pulling loose the whole mass of her hair, making it fall down her bare back, and...
He abruptly cleared his throat and willed himself to stop his mind's undisciplined wandering. "Then all the more reason you should be resting. Perhaps I should go."
"No, no, no." Valia crossed the rest of the distance to him, her face appealing him to stay. "I'll be all right. We can visit a while. Come on, let me take your cloak, and I'll get us some tea." Her hands reached out to lightly rest on his arms. With a feeling similar to this morning's sensation of the ground becoming very slippery under his feet, Qui-Gon shrugged out of his robe and handed it to her. She very carefully folded it in half lengthwise and just as carefully hung it on a hook by the front door. He followed her with his eyes the entire way there and back to the sitting room. She stopped and faced him. Their eyes locked and held. It seemed that there had been nothing but awkwardness and apologies since he'd walked in the door. In that moment something clicked into place and everything properly aligned.
He fell toward her at the same time she lunged at him. Two pairs of hands collided, fingers lacing. Their mouths slanted together and melded. She gasped and whimpered into his mouth. He slowly stretched his arms out and up winglike, pulling her hands with them until she nearly hung from him as though crucified.
Their souls rushed to each other nearly as quickly as their bodies had. There was that flickering light behind her eyes again. Valia's head was swimming not from the drugs but from the sheer speed of their coming together and the shocking blaze of passion. She knew just a fraction of a second of fear at what she'd opened the door to. Then it was gone. She smiled against his mouth, still kissing him. She tilted her head back and strained to reach him by standing on her toes as he inclined forward to her. He squeezed her fingers and smiled too, at the upwelling of joy he felt in her. Their thoughts mirrored each other's minds. You. I found you. I finally found you.
Qui-Gon released her hands and picked her up at the waist to hold her tightly against him. Now she didn't have to stretch so far. And she was delightfully pressed full length against him. Beyond the immediate reality of how good his lips and tongue felt against hers, she was vaguely aware of the room slowly spinning on its axis. No, it wasn't the room, it was them. They were slowly turning in a strange slow dance. This was one dance Valia never wanted to end. Her world abruptly tilted and she yelped as they both went down on the couch. How had they gotten all the way over here? She dizzily stared at Qui-Gon in open-mouthed surprise from on top of him. When she saw this was intentional and how nicely his seated big body had cushioned her, she laughed delightedly. She wound her arms back around him and made a little moan as she refitted her mouth against his. The taste and scent of him was still so new, so delicious. She wanted to binge, to feast on him. She wanted to kiss him, to lick him everywhere but she stayed near his mouth. She didn't want to break this intimacy. She wanted to get as close to him as possible. She could no longer deny the primal urge she felt to mate with him. It frightened her how frantic she was to have him. What had she wanted from this visit? This. Him.
Now that she was resting comfortably on him, she could concentrate more fully on every sensation. His chest and shoulders were every bit as solid as she'd imagined they were from the brief encounters her arms had had with them before. His own arms were wrapped tightly around her at her waist and upper back. His hand glided up the back of her head under her hair. She felt it loosening and coming undone. She herself was taking great handfuls of his hair and sliding it slowly through her hands.
His mouth. She could not possibly get enough of his mouth. She placed nipping little kisses into his moustache and around his lips. She couldn't help making soft little noises of pleasure every time he caressed her tongue with his own. He seemed to be matching her demand for demand, pressure for pressure, letting her lead. But she thought she was beginning to see the first cracks in that perpetually controlled composure of his. The idea of seeing him lose control over her, because of her, was both tremendously exciting and frightening. She took his lower lip in her mouth and gently bit. The sudden intake of his breath sent a thrill through her. She skimmed her lips through his beard and nuzzled the side of her face against his jaw. No stubble burn, she thought rapturously. She further explored the line between his soft facial hair and skin over the hard planes of his face. She trailed her lips over his cheekbone, the bridge of his nose, an eyebrow, his temple, where his hair was the softest and pulled back to expose his ears to her. She was rewarded with another hitch in his breathing when she closed her mouth over an earlobe and sucked on it. How long had it been since she'd first thought of doing that? She shifted slightly on him so she could do one more thing she'd daydreamed about. He actually trembled when she drew her tongue in a long damp swath up the strong column of his neck. She smiled and kissed his jawline. Paradoxically she wanted to push every single one of his turn-on buttons immediately, and yet hold him close and guard the vulnerabilities she was exposing. She suddenly wanted to spend the rest of her life doing this with him. Valia irrationally wondered if that would be enough time to do everything she could imagine. She realized she was almost panicky in her grabbing at him, struck with the thought of wasted time.
Her shifting on him had exposed a further delight to her. She'd moved so she was straddling one of his thighs. Now aware of and very pleased by the presence of a very large and normal male arousal against her leg, she shifted again to get comfortable. She lowered herself over it so she could feel even more of him. She smiled. He was so straight and long. Nice. Then just a flicker of doubt skittered across her mind. What if...? No. Maybe in all this lustful frenzy his lightsaber hilt had gotten twisted around on his belt and buried in the layers of his tunic. She fully expected him to be wearing it. She'd never seen him without it. She wondered if he slept with it. She stifled a laugh and wondered if she'd get to find out. Involuntarily she shifted her eyes and slightly turned her head to check down by his waist. There it was, in its usual place at his side. The relief and joy she felt at the sight of it struck her as so funny a crazy giggle burst out of her. She brought up a hand from behind Qui-Gon in a useless attempt to stifle it. She continued to look down at it, unable to stop herself from making a very base analytical comparison. More laughter bubbled up. Qui-Gon drew his head back to look at her in consternation. She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned back so far she nearly tumbled off his lap, and laughed at the ceiling. In spite of her embarrassment it was an easy, musical laugh. The drugs, combined with the flush of her recent escape from an early death, and finally feeling able to let herself go with him combined to make her unusually giddy. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this...happy.
Qui-Gon held her around her hips to keep her from falling to the floor.
"All right," he said at last. "What is it that's got you so tickled?" One of his brows was cocked and he was fighting to keep from grinning at her.
She looked at him, barely able to control herself. "Me," she said in a small voice and burst into laughter again, both hands over her mouth.
He gave her a wry smile. "Well," he drawled softly, "I do love a woman who can laugh at herself." He studied the marvelous work of womanhood on his lap. She was prettily flushed and her hair was half up and half down, partially cascading over her shoulders. Her look nearly shouted 'bedroom'. It was all the more appealing because she wasn't contriving it.
Through all her shifting he'd been praying she wouldn't move in the precise direction she had. No additional stimuli had been needed there, thank you very much. Then he'd seen her look down at his waist and surmised what had gone through her mind.
"So..." He regarded her expectantly. "Do I measure up?"
Valia's face fell forward into her hands again with fresh convulsions of laughter at him. She tried to nod 'yes' against his chest and stop her now out of control laughing. She knew she was probably acting like a complete adolescent, but she couldn't seem to help herself. She was getting slap-happy now. She shook as she hunched over against him. Qui-Gon placed his hands on either side of her head and gently brought her up to face him.
"Lia." He was starting to laugh himself. "Come now. Get a grip."
She stared at him with watery eyes from between his hands, which nearly encompassed her head. She didn't know if that was a deliberate play on words, but she decided to make it one.
"On anything in particular, Master Jinn?" she asked coyly. She finger-walked one of her hands down toward his crotch.
Qui-Gon gave her a sly smile from his half-turned face because he knew what she meant. His look clearly called her a naughty girl. He placed a hand over hers to stop it. "On yourself, miss."
If he didn't get a grip himself, he was going to be one very naughty boy.
She'd been innocently driving him toward sensory overload. Even if she'd done nothing at all, she was still intoxicating to the Jedi Master's acutely tuned senses. Before coming to see her, he'd done some calming exercises, seeking the strength he knew he was probably going to need to keep his base urges under control. He saw that now, if ever, was not the time to explore them with her. Not while she was in this condition.
Still he couldn't resist indulging himself in touching her. He simply had to touch her. This was why he'd resisted seeing her in private for so long. This uncontrollable, illogical, passionate fusion that happened every time they got close. And the urge to go at it like a couple of tuskettes in heat. Whatever physical things he had done with a woman many years before had just been mindless and heartless groping. An acting out of rebellion and curiosity. Those experiences paled in comparison to this. He hadn't been entirely joking when he'd told her that his midichlorians sang every time he even got near her. It was the closest he could come to describe the way his entire being thrummed when the two of them connected on any level.
It was easy to tell himself that it was her heart, soul and life-force that were exerting such a powerful pull on him. But when the exterior packaging was so incredibly sweet, so much the better. The perfume she was wearing was driving him mad the way it mixed with her own scent. He silently thanked her for using a light hand with it. Any more and it would have been overpowering to him. She smelled lush and fruity, like something to eat or drink slowly, and he wanted to do just that. He wanted to lick it from her skin at that tender spot at the base of her throat, from between her breasts. That skin of hers. That healthy, clear and soft skin. He wanted to devote days of accolades to it, just touching it with his fingertips.
He settled for lifting a hand to caress the side of her face. She closed her luminous gray eyes and turned her cheek into his palm. She enjoyed this for about half a minute before she made a sound between a sigh and a moan and leaned toward his face again. She kissed him full on the mouth, melting against him. Unable to do anything but respond in kind, he re-wrapped his arms around her, his palms sliding over the silk she wore. Her tongue flicked against his, playfully chasing it. His newly practiced tongue gave chase to hers, causing her to sigh and spread her thighs more widely around his hips. She sank more deeply against him.
The urges she was evoking in him belonged to a wild male animal, not a Jedi Knight. He knew he could have her right now, take her right this instant. He could pick her up, swing her over his shoulder and trot her into her bedroom. Or he could take her right here on the couch or on the floor. And she'd have done nothing to stop him. She'd have encouraged him all the way, giving herself to him completely. He sensed the currents of her mind, knowing she wanted to do just that. The suggestive way she was beginning to rub against him was going to drive him out of his mind with desire. She wanted to consummate her feelings for him, nearly a year's worth of pent-up emotion. As did he. But not now. It couldn't be now. They'd both hate themselves afterwards, and he couldn't begin to bear the thought of her hating him. Just a few minutes more. No, not even that long. One minute more, Qui-Gon told himself, he would self-indulgently enjoy her. And then he would be the voice of right and reason.
As much as he would have liked to stay fixated on the velvety inside of her mouth, there were so many other things he wanted to bestow his praises to. He traveled much the same path she'd gone on him. He kissed the tip of her nose, her cheek, the outer corners of those tipped up eyes. He traced the silken line of her eyebrows with his lips. He kissed the childhood scar she vainly hid under her bangs. Just one more lungful of the scent of her hair, one more glance down at her cleavage...
"Lia..."
He felt her smile against his neck. Rather than a call for her attention, her name had come out sounding more like an impassioned mantra.
"Lia," he tried again. She gave him only a small moan in response around a mouthful of his throat. Her clever hands had already found their way under the layers of his tunic, and were inside his shirt running over his bare chest. She passed her palms slowly over his nipples. They hardened like stones. He wasn't going to be able to speak at all if she kept this up. It was time to battle down the beast inside him that was rising up to engulf them both. It gave a scream of frustration when he willed it back into its dark den. It was greed, it was lust...it was of the Dark Side.
Control came, but shakily. He placed his fingertips at the sides of her face and gently brought her head up to look at him. Her eyes looked even more drugged and clouded than before, but this wasn't from the antibiotics. He dropped his hands to his chest and captured hers through his shirt to still their sensuous roving. He held her gaze until both of them were breathing normally and their hearts were no longer racing.
Confusion was now in her eyes. "What's wrong?"
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and sighed. Wrong? Right? Which way was up?
"Nothing. Nothing is wrong, my dear. It's just that I did come here to see how you were recovering. Not to...to...make out."
Valia smiled broadly, her white teeth flashing. She pulled her hands out from under his shirt and laid the layers of cloth back in order. She played with their edges.
"Making out..." she said softly, smiling demurely. "Is that what we were doing?"
"I think that's one of many terms to describe it, yes."
"Hmmmmm. And what would a Jedi Master know about terms like that?" she teased.
"I'll tell you a secret. Every once in a while I escape from my cell in the Temple, and I hear rumors about all these things people do."
"I see." Valia slid back on his legs slightly and continued to perch there, her knees squeezing his hips. His hands rested comfortably at her waist, rubbing the silk warmed by her skin. "Well, I can't think of a nicer way to really check to see how I'm doing, can you?"
He gave her a dubious smile.
"Qui-Gon, I'm just fine."
He snorted with humor. 'Fine' was about the least of all the descriptive adjectives that came to his mind to describe the wonder of her.
"I have an idea." Valia leaned forward, scooting that tantalizingly lovely bottom along his thighs. There was a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes. She almost leaned too far, nearly bumping his nose with her own. "Let's make out some more. And then... we can see where that leads to."
She normally wasn't in the habit of tumbling into bed with a man right away. And she most definitely had not planned on anything like this for the evening's activities, despite her meticulous primping. But she was nearly vibrating with sexual tension. She hadn't been this aroused in years. She was warm and wet, and her nipples were standing erect through several layers of silk. And that feeling that she'd known him for so much longer than one year persisted. She loved him. Didn't she? She was nearly positive it was love. She cocked her head at him, studying his eyes for response. She had a far better idea from past experiences what love wasn't.
But she didn't want to think about that now. The deliciously uninhibited feeling from the antibiotics and pain neutralizers seemed too good to waste while he was here, and so obviously aroused as well. Why not? Why indeed not?
Qui-Gon appeared to consider this intriguing idea. "Hmmm. And is there any particular place you want it to lead to?" He had a pretty good idea what it was. He was still trying to convince himself to tell her they weren't going to be going there now, and deciding how in the name of all that was good he was going to tell her.
"You can see into my mind." She fondled the ends of his hair.
"Lia my love, expecting me to always read your mind is a dangerous pattern for two people to fall into, and a perilous trap."
She sighed. Of course he was right. It could be maddening at times, like now.
"Well, here are some other terms you might have heard. The Wampa wiggle. The wild thing. The nasty. Mattress Bolappa-ball. The Kashyyyk tree-shaker. The-"
Qui-Gon stopped her with an upraised hand. His eyebrows had nearly reached his hairline and he was chuckling. "All right, Lia, I get the idea."
"I'm sorry. I'm being really crude. But I want to shake your tree. I want to make your midichlorians sing."
"I already feel shaken, and my midichlorians are singing."
"Well then let's go make love, and make them hoarse." She moved to pull him off the couch.
"Lia." He closed his eyes and prayed for strength. He took both her hands between his palms and held them upright between them. "Do you really want to give that part of yourself to me so quickly?"
"Yes," she answered with no hesitation.
"Don't you think it would be better for both of us, especially you, if we waited for that?"
Valia stopped to consider this. For a man who she knew lived largely in the moment and by how he felt, he was making her think way too much. But she had been letting every part of her but her head do her thinking for her since he'd walked in the door. She looked at his face. His eyes, which had been as unfocused as hers earlier, were now sharp as jewels. She suddenly became interested in the scattering of dark hairs on the backs of his hands.
"Listen to me. You're still injured. You're tired, no matter how much you're trying to deny it." He held up her wrist that was decorated with the gray med bracelet. "You are on drugs. As much as I'd love to take you up on your suggestion, I have too much respect for you and myself to take advantage of such a situation."
She eyed the bracelet. "It is pretty unsexy, isn't it?"
"Believe me, it does nothing to detract from your beauty." His voice was low and husky.
She shifted on him to get comfortable again, unwittingly rubbing his treacherous body in places he was battling to bring under control. She couldn't know how he had paused outside her door after leaving her apartment that morning. He'd flopped his hood over his head and leaned against the wall, and once again with his mind quieted a raging erection. He wondered if doing that enough times could render him completely impotent. He'd hoped none of her neighbors had seen him. What would they think? He tightened his grip on her hands. Her eyes were still begging him to undress her. He wondered if this was the kind of situation his own master had ever specifically envisioned when he had taught him all the fine arts of self control so long ago.
"I've wanted to put my hands on you since the day I met you. Do you have any idea how I've resisted that?"
Valia was surprised by this admission. That long? "Well, except for a time or two recently, no, I had no idea. You've been nothing but an honorable gentleman the whole time I've known you."
Qui-Gon quirked an eyebrow at her. "Being that gentleman has suddenly gotten so much more difficult."
"If it's permission to touch me you need, Qui-Gon, permission is more than granted," she said softly. "So I've seen what a gentleman you are. Sometimes a woman wants to see...other things."
His gaze suddenly seemed more piercing. Something blazed briefly in his blue eyes. "Other things..." he echoed. He let go of her hands and leaned forward to cup her face with his, and press his forehead to hers. Valia curiously accepted this new gesture of intimacy from him. But she gasped at the flood of lurid images that suddenly filled the vision of her mind's eye. Images that were not her own. Images that became more fascinating the more she saw. Unable to break free, she was transfixed by the erotic pictures she could see through closed eyes. A woman atop a prone man flinging back a curtain of pale hair, fondling her own breasts. Sheer drapes of fabric surrounding them on an enormous bed. Then water. Unbelievable amounts of deep warm water and foam. A polished stone wall. A naked woman leaning against the wall, slicked down with water and oil, the scent of which actually filled her nostrils, an exotic scent she'd never smelled in her life. The woman was herself! The details shocked her. That's just how she would look with her hair wet, biting her lip, rubbing more oil on herself, eyes dark with desire and smiling up at what surely was her lover coming to join her. And she could feel things! Bizarre sensations flitted across her flesh. And she seemed to feel his imagined sensations as well as her own in a potent and strange mixture. Her arms were around his broad back, water beaded up on his warm skin. Wet lips and hair tangling and sliding. Bare breasts against his chest, water flowing and molding itself between their skin. Before that could progress further, she suddenly saw herself from the torso up, on her back, twisted in an impossibly vast sea of crimson-violet bedsheets. There was a fire somewhere because there were crazy shadows on the walls and ceiling. She was writhing in either ecstasy or torment, handfuls of sheet gripped in her clawed hands. Again she saw herself from his point of view. She felt no shame at the sight of herself this way, only a dazed fascination, like in lucid dreaming. She felt more intimate sensations. Oh gods, yes, that's how he would feel inside her. Things she'd dared to imagine herself, he was now imagining for her, with her. Other visions began to flit past more quickly. They were rolling naked in high, sweetly scented purple grass in the sunshine of another world. Her mouth was on him, around him...The images became too fast to see. Billions of flower petals against her skin, more water, stars...
Reality crept slowly in from the outer edges of her vision. Valia found herself staring at Qui-Gon's eyes, out of breath, her skin flushed and hot. She was so close to coming, one move of her hips could send her over the edge. She could finish this herself. She wanted to. She realized her hands were clutching handfuls of his tunic at the shoulders nearly to the point of tearing the fabric. She groaned at having been so close, but she controlled herself. She gradually let go of him and flexed her aching fingers.
Qui-Gon wore an inscrutable expression on his face as he watched her. Was it regret? He took a deep breath. "Those are just some of the things you and I might do. Only a fraction of ways I've thought to love you." Fevered pleasure for both of them. But he wasn't supposed to want that.
Valia covered her face with her hands, still regaining her composure. Guilt washed through him. What had he done? His skills were never to be used for anything like this, for self-indulgent and teasing fantasies. He touched the backs of her hands with his fingers. "Valia. I'm sorry. Please forgive me."
She lowered her hands. "For what?" She gave him a heavy-lidded look. "Why are you sorry? It was...that was...incredible. A few minutes ago I was the one asking for the real thing." She relaxed against him. "You're sorry you stopped? Is that it?" She was.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and took another deep breath. "No, Lia. For giving in to fantasy. None of that was reality. It is not the here and now. They are things that might possibly happen in a shifting future, not things that are real."
"Then let's make it real," she breathed and moved to kiss him again. He caught her face between his hands and stopped her before he would be lost again.
"No, Lia. Nothing we talked about a few moments ago has changed."
She exhaled with a puff of breath between her lips, causing loose locks of her hair to softly rise and fall. Maybe she could wait for all he'd shown her, after all. She was suddenly struck with the realization that she really knew very little about this man and his past. She wondered who and what she held in her arms. Was she ten kinds of fool trying to hold him, trying to capture a shooting star?
"Perhaps you could make that tea now," Qui-Gon suggested gently.
Tea. What was tea? It sounded like something horribly mundane. She understood what he was trying to do, and heard the sense in his words. But parts of her wrenched in despair as she climbed off him and stood. She smiled at him and combed out the rest of her tangled hair with her fingers. She swayed on her feet.
"Tea. Coming right up."
With deliberate effort, she put one foot in front of the other and walked the short distance to the kitchen area. Qui-Gon watched her carefully, wondering if it had been a good idea to send her where she could drop or spill something. She turned to look back at him. He smiled encouragingly. Valia nearly launched herself at him again, but she made herself keep going.
She'd enjoyed virtual sex quite a number of times, but it had never left her feeling this raw and shaky. If she felt this way after just imagining it with him, what would actually making love with him be like? It would probably turn her world upside down. She glanced over at him. He had gotten that deep crease between his eyebrows and was in a very serious contemplation of the far wall. He'd actually felt that wretched over a fantasy? She shrugged and smiled to herself, remembering.
She stood in the kitchen and dragged her hands through her hair, facing the U-shaped appliance enclosure. She knew she needed to somehow heat water and find those crumbled dried leaves. What kind? Oh, these difficult decisions. Most likely something calming.
"Gets me all hot and bothered, then wants me to make tea..." she muttered softly under her breath.
"What was that?" Qui-Gon called from the opposite side of the sitting area. He'd gotten to his feet and was looking closely at one of the colorful tapestries hanging on her apartment walls. Bright yarns and fibers made stylized images of fruit trees and pastoral scenes.
"Nothing!" She filled a thermal pitcher with water.
"Is this tapestry hand-woven?"
"Yes, I have an aunt who makes them. She doesn't like to use droids or computers in any part of the process."
"These are beautiful. Remarkable work."
Apparently he'd been able to shut off the sexual meltdown much more quickly than she had. Probably a Jedi thing. She glanced back at him as he examined the wall hangings as blithely as if he were in an art museum. Hadn't she noticed before how long his legs were? And she had yet to confirm with her hands what she suspected was a first class butt. The other side of the apartment seemed entirely too great a distance to be separated from him. She stopped staring, snapped herself back to what she was doing and added leaves to the filter. The water in the pitcher had reached a wild boil while she had been staring and was splashing over the rim. "Mmmff," she muttered, flinging scalding droplets off her hand and fanning away a faceful of steam with the other. Good thing he was facing the other way.
"Do you need any help with anything?" he inquired politely.
A smirk tugged at her lips. "Yes."
He was across the room and at her side so fast she jumped. "But not with making tea." She tightened her mouth to keep from grinning.
Knowing full well what she was talking about, Qui-Gon put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him. He pressed a kiss into the hair above her ear. "You test me, woman," he murmured. Valia was perversely gratified to feel the evidence pushing against her that he hadn't quite damped down his arousal as well as she'd thought.
"I'm sorry. I can't get my mind off of...you know."
"Then maybe we should think about something else."
But what else was there to think about right now? What else was near and dear to her heart? Then it hit her. Food.
"I can't believe myself," she said, aghast. She put a hand on her forehead.
"What do you mean?"
"I didn't make a thing to eat for you. I forgot."
"You didn't have to do that."
"But it's rude to not offer. What if you get hungry? What if you haven't eaten?"
"Lia, I've already eaten, and you are not being rude. I came just to visit you, remember?"
She was already half inside a storage unit, rummaging, pulling things out. Cook, yes indeed, that's what she would do. Lots of food. Eat. The vaguely annoying thought crossed her mind that she was acting much like her mother. When faced with either a distressing or joyous event, start cooking or serving food to someone, anyone. And guests on her homeworld always were served something sweet practically before entering a house. Her female ancestors had probably been turning over in their graves. Again.
Bewildered, Qui-Gon watched her move around the tiny kitchen suddenly becoming a whirlwind of efficiency. She muttered something about rotted old Nymean traditions while going through every item in a cold storage bin. She grimaced with a jerk when she sniffed at the contents of one item and replaced the lid, shoving the entire thing down the waste disposal shaft.
"You don't have any food allergies or problems, do you? Because a lot of people I know have trouble with nerf milk. And usually if you've got a nerf milk allergy, you've got--"
"No. Lia, stop, please. This isn't necessary." He couldn't remember ever in his life feeling this amused, aroused and exasperated in the same space of time. Or so vibrantly alive.
She was already adding this and that to a hopper in the lid of a baking unit. "It's no problem. It'll be just a minute." She poured a generous quantity of nerf milk into the feeder tube, shut the lid, and activated it. "Now, how's that tea coming?" She turned to check it. The lid latch in the top of the unit blew. Partially mixed batter shot straight to the ceiling and rained down on both of them. Valia shrieked and lunged to turn off the device.
"Actually," Qui-Gon said after a long pause, during which he wiped a gob of batter from his eyelid, "I do have problems with food, but only when it comes to wearing it..."
"Oh my...oh, damn. Oh, I...I'm so sorry, I'm sorry..." Valia reached toward him with a horror-stricken expression.
"The kitchen," he said with quiet dignity, "is closed. The tea," he took a platter out of Valia's hand and set it down on the counter with a small bang. "Is done," he nodded toward it. "Where do you keep your mugs?"
Valia pointed mutely toward a cupboard, stripping batter from a strand of her hair. Qui-Gon removed two mugs, then gestured sweepingly toward the sitting area. Valia picked up the tea and went there without further fuss.
Qui-Gon helped her clean the ceiling, the rest of the kitchen, and her. She cleaned him off to the tune of more apologies, though a smile was beginning to sneak into the corners of her mouth. He allowed himself a low chuckle or two when she was off changing out of her clothes.
Tea poured, they sat companionably close on the couch. But not too close. The raging fire between them had been banked down to comfortable embers now, and neither wanted to stir it out of control again. Valia kept her robe tightly wrapped around her, covering up as much skin as possible. It was dark now, and she left the windows on transparent setting so they could enjoy Galactic City's sparkling skyline. They were having a safe discussion about textiles, sparked by Valia's removal of batter from Qui-Gon's tunic, his further questions about her collection of artwork, and by the textile industries on Qui-Gon's birth world.
His voice fascinated and attracted her. Low and soft. His accent pleasingly tugged at the vowel sounds. She was sure she would have been happy listening to him read aloud from planetary agricultural import/export regulation manuals all day long.
Valia pulled her leg up on the couch and rubbed the healing bite wound.
"Does it hurt?"
"Just a little. I'll probably take a couple more pain killers in a while."
Qui-Gon supposed now might not be a good time to show her some simple pain control exercises. But he wanted to some day. There were so many things he wanted to show her. Places he wanted to take her. So much to share with her. He regarded her longingly from his end of the couch. Valia misinterpreted his look.
"More libidinous fantasies, Master Jinn?" she teased.
"No," he smiled, able to take her jibe with good nature. "No more of those for today. But I promise you will be the only one I'll share them with if I come up with more."
She leaned her head back and smiled, closing her eyes. It felt good to close them, just for a minute. She really was tired. She felt calm and relaxed in his presence. She sat quietly for a time. She had a persistent vision in her mind of green leaves, new spring leaves on delicate twigs, dripping with rain.
"Are you doing that?"
"Doing what?"
"The leaves. The rain."
"Yes."
"Thank you. It's nice," she murmured. She'd just leave her eyes shut for another minute...
When she woke up, Valia was sure she'd slept away an entire night. It just felt like it ought to be morning. When she felt herself nestled against Qui-Gon's warm bulk, she jerked herself upright. Now what? Had they given in after all and wound up in bed? She saw they were still on the couch and only an hour had passed. He'd moved over to her and wrapped his arms around her. His legs were crossed comfortably and his face rested on the top of her head.
"I'm really being a horrible hostess," she said, settling herself back against him and wanting to never move. He loosely linked his fingers with hers.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that." He'd found his own quiet joy in holding her close while she slept. Her hair still smelled faintly like cake batter.
"You're joking again. This is what, the third time I've fallen asleep on you in one day? You're really not boring me that badly."
"Well thank you." He smiled wryly into her soft, sweetly scented hair. "If you want some good advice, I would say you need to pay attention to what your body is trying to tell you."
"I thought I was doing just that, earlier."
His chiseled lips curled into a smile. "You have very selective hearing when it comes to your body." He moved to rise from the couch and surprised her by turning and scooping her up in his arms and standing in one fluid motion. She automatically put her arms around his neck.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking you to bed."
He saw the surprised and hopeful look on her face at once. "Taking you to it, not joining you in it," he clarified.
Valia rolled her eyes in exaggerated dismay. "Well, rot."
He started toward the only door that could have led to her bedroom in the small apartment. "Hasty decisions are another one of those perilous traps to be avoided. So is lack of rest."
"Saving me from myself again, Master Jinn?"
"If I must."
She sighed. She couldn't summon the rationale to protest his high-handedness at the moment, especially after this evening. And it did feel good to be taken care of right now, for a change. He made her feel cherished and precious. And respected.
"I think I can probably manage to walk this far."
"I know. But I find I enjoy these excuses to carry you."
I adore you. She gave her heart to him with her eyes.
He edged through the doorway and carefully set her down on the bed. He kneeled on the floor next to it, eye-level with her. His eyes were dark with tightly restrained passion. She lay on her side, propping her head up with one arm. Her fingers stroked the side of his face, his chin, his nose.
"I still want you."
"And here I thought you'd changed your mind." He gently rubbed a fleck of dried batter from her cheek. "And I want you. But another time."
She smiled slowly at him. "When?"
"I don't know. When you're ready. When we're both ready. When it feels right. Soon."
"You can tell me I'm going to live to be a hundred, but not that day?"
Qui-Gon smiled and closed his eyes. "I'm only a Jedi, not a prophet or clairvoyant. I can't see every detail of the entire future. I'm a bit funny that way."
Valia settled herself back on her bed, at peace with his answer. It was nearly on her tongue to tell him she loved him, but she hesitated. Something told her he wasn't ready to hear it yet, and maybe she wasn't quite ready to say it.
"All right. See you tomorrow?"
"I know where I'll find you."
"Chuluk is going to manage my first store. I have to finish training him."
"I understand."
Her eyelids were heavy and drooped above purple shadows. It was time for him to leave. He ignored the nearly overwhelming urge to stretch out beside her. He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek and on both her hands, avoiding the tender trap of her mouth. He rose and slipped away from her.
"Sleep well."
"Don't forget your cloak."
He nodded and was gone. She was asleep before he had thrown his hood over his head and stepped out into the night.