Her back was on fire. Although Qui-Gon complimented her on her forms, her burns simply reminded her had she been in a real fight, she would be dead already.

Her hands gingerly brushed across her lower back, rubbing the slave in gently. She did her shoulders next, almost wincing at the spikes of pain that radiated from there. But she found, after a few failed attempts, that she could not reach between her shoulder blades. And that particular burn hurt a lot.

Obi-Wan bit her lip. She had two options. She could let the burn heal like normal and spend the next two days in discomfort. Or, she could ask her Master to rub slave on her back and spend the next three minutes in extreme uncomfortable silence.

She tried once again to rub the goo on, only for it to slip between her fingers and falling on the top of her trousers.

When she felt the cold salve slowly soak into her trousers, Obi-Wan made her decision.

Obi-Wan came out of her room slowly, almost as if she was expecting to be attacked. Qui-Gon was sitting on the living room couch, occasionally taking a sip of tea as he read the report of their next mission assignment. Obi-Wan watched in muted fascination as her Master gracefully picked up the mug, bringing it to his lips. He moved like water, gently, fluidly.

"You need something Padawan?" He asked without looking up from his datapad.

He also had the senses of a bat. It was because of those heightened senses that many of Obi-Wan's practical jokes fell flat. She stepped into the light, holding up the jar of slave. "Can you help me with this? I can't reach certain places."

She expected him frown, to turn her away and tell her to get a friend to help. Amazingly, he placed the pad down and said, "Of course."

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to grin. She crossed the room, sitting down on the couch besides him. He took the jar from her hands, opening it as she quietly, discreetly, opened the tunic to show him her back. She brought her arms in front of her, hugging herself as so shouldn't accidentally flash him.

The touch of the cold salve on her back made her shiver. The large hands of Qui-Gon Jinn gently rubbed the gel into her skin, sending a cool but pleasant numbing sensation over the pain.

When his hands moved elsewhere, Obi-Wan stiffened. "Wait, Master, I already applied salve there-"

"You did it poorly," He told her, rubbing his slick hand across the small of her back. "You need to rub it in or else it'll simply come off your clothing."

She could not find any fault with that. "All right," She said quietly.

Qui-Gon's rough calloused hands traveled to her shoulders. He messaged them, letting his thumb to press against her muscles as he rubbed little circles across her flesh. "You're very tense Padawan."

Both a shot of pleasure and pain went through Obi-Wan, causing her to close her eyes in attempt to keep herself calm. Her Master's voice broke through any meditation state she was trying to achieve. "I didn't realize I hurt you this badly."

"It's okay," Obi-Wan shivered. "I can't expect you to go easy on me."

"Yes, but you can't expect me to become unnecessarily cruel either. I apologize for my actions." He squeezed the base of her neck and Obi-Wan wasn't even sure she had a burn there.

He went from her shoulder to her shoulder blades. His fingers traveled down her spine, using his index and middle fingers to trace the length. His hands then went to where her ribcage was, dangerously coming close to the curves of her breasts.

If he should suddenly move his hand forward and cup her, would she let him?

Obi-Wan bit her lips at the thought of that. She wasn't sure what she would do, if his hands came up from behind…would he be gentle? It was not in his nature to cause pain…

Qui-Gon pulled away. "Done," He said satisfied, wiping his hands on a nearby towel.

Obi-Wan tried to keep the disappointment from her voice. "Okay…" She nodded, lowering her tunic to cover her back. She then sighed, the pain from the burns were now no more than a soft ache. "Thank you Master."

"My pleasure," Qui-Gon smiled at her. There was a hitch in his throat, as if the man had choked on his tea beforehand. Qui-Gon must've noticed it too because he suddenly cleared his throat. "Is there anything else you need?"

"No Master."

"Very well. Goodnight Obi-Wan."

"Goodnight Master."

()

A/N: I don't really have any plot set out for this fic. It's merely a series of moments between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan and sexual tension. For those who were looking for plot, I apologize. You won't see any of that here.

R/R if you dare.