Cupid's Arrow

By Jemmiah

"…So as you can see," Obi-Wan finished with a flourish, "Not only was your favourite Jedi incredibly brave and heroic in the extreme, but he managed to return without a single scratch on his body."

Jemmy looked him up and down. It was true that the knight was looking surprisingly tidy and uncrumpled this once: there were no obvious scorch marks on his cream tunic or telltale blast holes in his robe. Even his hair looked immaculately quaffed! As she walked towards him armed with a cup of his favourite T'sanzi cocoa, the spoon still in the mug, Jemmy wondered exactly what sort of miracle had occurred that had sent him home to Coruscant in such mint condition!

Perhaps she should just be grateful and make the most of the moment, now that she had him to herself. Here, in her own apartment, there was no Anakin, no distractions…just both of them together. Who could say when things might change for the worse? Never one to look a gift Nargot in the mouth Jemmy could tell by looking at the mischievous twinkle in Obi-Wan's blue eyes that he had been thinking more or less along the same lines. Quite clearly he was hoping that the lack of scratches on his body was a purely temporary thing…

"I'm glad you're safe." She remarked, flicking aside the long chestnut hair that Obi-Wan had so often admired.

"Are you?"

"Definitely." Jemmy studied the satisfied look on the knight's face and waited her moment. "There's a huge spider in the bath and you know what I'm like with creepy crawlies…I was hoping you'd come by and help me get rid of it. Although I don't know," she added devilishly, "I should be used to things with lots of arms by now. You always seem to grow an extra set of hands or two whenever the mood takes you…"

Obi-Wan took her remarks in the good-natured manner they were intended.

"I'm wounded to death." He feigned hurt by clasping a hand to his chest.

"Good. The infirmary will be on standby anyway: they usually are when you come back from a mission."

It had been a long time since he had shared a joke in such a way, and Obi-Wan was the first to admit that it felt incredibly good. His relationship with Jemmy had always been peculiar and complicated in most respects, but since he had become Anakin's mentor it was rare that they even got time to talk to each other. In many ways Obi-Wan felt strangely free. Snatching time when they could find it was hardly the most romantic thing in the world - but then again the Jedi weren't the most romantic of people. Jemmy seemed to realise this and live with the situation quite happily, and if they were both content with the arrangement then there seemed to be little problem.

And it had been ever such a dangerous mission…

"Where's my reward, then?" Obi-Wan asked impertinently, feeling instantly relaxed now that he was lounging in the familiar and comfortable surrounds of Jemmy's apartment. He crossed one booted heel over another, resting both feet upon the padded stool directly opposite his chair.

"Reward?"

"For coming back hale, hearty and sound in every limb." He replied suggestively.

Jemmy stared at him. "You have it." She nodded at the steaming cup.

"That's it?" He affected a scandalised expression. "Preposterous!"

"Could it be that you're after something more?" Jemmiah raised an insinuating eyebrow, holding the mug of cocoa in her hands.

Obi-Wan's lips twitched fractionally. "Well now, I have come back from an extremely perilous journey. I've survived dust storms, freak weather conditions, poisonous reptiles, sand slides, ground quakes and being near smothered to death by an old lady with a bosom the size of a land speeder."

"Sounds like your type." Jemmy quipped dryly.

"As the hero of the hour I think I'm entitled to a more substantial reward than cocoa." The young master's eyes gleamed purposefully.

Jemmiah considered that for a moment before handing Obi-Wan the mug. He picked it up in both hands and instantly winced as the heat burned the palm of his hands. Frankly, Jemmy had a hard time understanding how he had managed to come back in one piece if that was how he carried on. Certainly it was indeed a rare occasion when Obi-Wan returned from a mission minus a stab wound or a blaster burn to some minor part of his anatomy.Which meant that inevitably she would find herself holding his hand, metaphorically speaking, by his bedside in the infirmary.

Somehow she didn't think that it was any bed in the infirmary he was trying to manoeuvre her towards…

"And this 'reward' would be along the lines of…what?" She pressed him for details, knowing pretty much what he was alluding to. "Tickets to the theatre? Dinner for two? Something quiet and…intimate?"

"Intimate was exactly what I had in mind." Obi-Wan threw her an unsubtle wink. "But I'm sure with my skills as a negotiator we can work on the small details as we go."

She pursed her lips, deep in thought.

"Okay." Jemmy agreed, leaning in closer just to allow Obi-Wan a better view of her rather revealing shimmer silk, thin strapped pink dress. "If it's a more 'substantial' reward you're after…" She whispered seductively at him.

"Yes?"

"I'll add some sprinkles to your cocoa."

Obi-Wan allowed his head to roll back against the padded back of the sofa, finding himself strangely amused, if slightly hot-under-the-collar. Of course that could just be the heat from his cocoa, which he had tried to cool with futility by blowing on the frothy surface. As he stirred the contents of the mug he watched Jemmy's shapely rear as she wiggled her way, hips provocatively swaying, through towards the dining area - and then rebuked himself most severely for thinking of her in purely hormonal terms. As a Jedi master he should have been above such wanton thoughts, even if he was as red blooded as the next male.

Unless that male happened to be Master Berlingside, in which case everyone else's blood was of a distinctly watery shade in comparison. Still, it did no good to dwell overly on these matters like he was a rutting Bantha.

Compared to him Banthas had all the luck.

Well, at least there was still the cocoa to enjoy whilst Jemmy decided whether or not she was done teasing him. So thinking, Obi-Wan bent his head to take a sip…

"I suppose," Jemmy remarked as she rummaged around inside her storage cupboards looking for the container that held the cocoa sprinkles, "I should be grateful you came back in one piece. Everything still works, does it? Everything that should bend still bends? Or had I better rephrase that question?"

Silence.

"Where is that kriffing packet of sprinkles…ah, ha!" She slapped her hands triumphantly against the side of her legs. "There they are! I swear these cupboards rearrange themselves during the night just to confuse me. Last week I found a face flannel in amongst the plates and cooking utensils. If I find my egg whisk in the fresher room I'll know that someone is having a laugh at my expense. "

No answer.

"And if I find you've made yourself comfy on my bed you'll regret it later, I promise!" She growled warningly at him. "And the same applies if I come through and find you've fallen asleep!"

Jemmy tilted her head to one side, puzzled by Obi-Wan's silence. Had he perhaps left her and gone back to the temple without a word? He'd been so keen just a few minutes ago! Was it something she had said? Playing back their conversation in her mind Jemmy decided she couldn't possibly have said anything to offend him and marched back through into the next room. The worst of being the only person on the planet to despise open-plan living and insisting on extra partition walls being added to the apartment was that inevitably you couldn't see what was going on around you…

"Are you planning to ambush me, is that it?" She asked him as she craned her head towards where she had left him. "Because contrary to popular rumour being jumped on by randy Jedi is not amongst my 'most popular things to do' list."

Jemmiah found herself answered by a groan of pain…followed shortly thereafter by another. And then another.

"Ben Kenobi." She sighed, closing her eyes. "What have you done this time?"

Healer Territ stood by the window of the tiny study room that offset the main infirmary and rubbed at his neck to try and rid himself of the crimp that had developed during the course of the day. The vista outside was splendid - if you liked that kind of thing - but it was a mere distraction, nothing else. With his near shoulder length dark hair and moss-green eyes Gethin was considered to be of more than average beauty: and that was the problem. Of late there had been one or two of the non-Jedi patients brought in to the infirmary for specialised treatment that had taken far too much of a shine to him. It had never seemed to matter before but perhaps nowadays he was beginning to see precisely the effect his well-meaning pillow talk could have on those about him. The moniker of 'Doctor Delicious' no longer seemed so appealing.

Especially as the overweight Twi'lek in bed eight kept ringing for his attention every five minutes.

Having administered her with a sleeping draft that would have knocked out even the orneriest of Rancors Gethin found himself prowling absently around what was now a mercifully empty reception bay. Empty, that was, save for one twelve year old boy.

"Padawan Skywalker, isn't it?" Gethin frowned at the golden haired youngster. "Are you sick?"

Anakin looked up with what could only be described as a resigned expression on his face.

"It isn't me, sir. It's my master." The padawan gestured to the stooped over figure who had that moment entered the infirmary, appearing to be holding some sort of padded cloth to his right eye. "He's been injured."

"You've just come back from a mission?" Gethin glanced Obi-Wan over, trying to check him for any other obvious signs of injury.

Anakin's face lit up in a display of radiant excitement. "Oh, yes! There were dust storms, freak weather conditions, poisonous reptiles, sand slides, ground quakes and my master was nearly smothered by this woman with huge…"

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan exclaimed sharply.

Gethin met the information with his customary ready smile. "Sounds like quite an adventure. So, was it the ground quakes or the large woman that did this to your eye?"

"Neither." Anakin pulled a knowing face. "He didn't get a scratch on the mission. Isn't that right, master?" The boy's voice became instantly sceptical. "He told me he did this drinking a cup of cocoa."

Healer Territ folded his arms. Obi-Wan had always been a semi-regular visitor to the infirmary, not so much through any clumsiness or lack of prudence, but usually through bad luck. Or, for those who didn't believe that luck existed, the will of the force. Although why the force was continually trying to maim poor Obi-Wan remained one of life's unexplained mysteries…

"Your master is the only person," Gethin ventured finally as he peered behind the makeshift bandage at the bloodshot and swollen red eye, "who can nearly blind himself drinking cocoa. Care to tell me how it was done?"

Obi-Wan hissed with pain as Gethin continued to examine the damage. "I was visiting a friend, if you must know."

Gethin did know. He had a pretty good idea which particular friend, too.

"And she - sorry - they did this to you?" The healer enquired casually. "Or were you perhaps struck by a dart of love? Cupid's arrow, was it?" He grinned down at the non-plussed Anakin before returning his attention to Obi-Wan. "Hit you smack in the eye?"

Obi-Wan said nothing.

"I'm most impressed." Gethin continued, nodding to Anakin. "You have a phenomenon for a master. Most people get injured during a mission, not when they arrive safely back! Although I'd still like to know how this was done. In all my years in the infirmary, first as a padawan and then a knight, I have never seen anything like this. It just isn't possible to almost blind yourself drinking cocoa."

Kenobi gritted his teeth.

"It is when you leave the spoon in the cup!" He snapped.