“I have Lord Yoda’s permission to see the prisoner.”

The voice rang through the detention block and Obi-Wan let out a
sharp breath through his nose. Else he did not move.

He let his head remain bent, remained in lotus position with his
hands resting on his thighs, steadily breathing to keep his calm. He
was not going to panic, he was going to cling to the very last shreds
of his calm despite what had happened and despite what he had seen.

Every pair of yellow eyes in familiar faces…

He took another sharp breath as he listened to leather boots make
their way through the hall to Obi-Wan’s cell until they stopped.

If he had access to the Force, he would most likely been able to feel
the man outside his cell.

As it was, Obi-Wan relied on his other senses.

The soft shift of cloth against a tall body, the calm breathing and
the silence of everything else.

The other was right outside the ray shields that made the door of his
cell, watching him and Obi-Wan could feel his skin crawl even as a
smaller part of him cried out in painful awareness of the exact being
outside his cell.

“Open your eyes and look at me.” A familiar voice demanded and
Obi-Wan fought against the cry stuck in his throat.

He slowly did as told though, raising his head ever so slightly to
look at the man who had once trained him.

Qui-Gon Jinn, alive and handsome looking with his yellow eyes tainted
red by the ray shield. The Dark side had been kind to the man Obi-Wan
noted. Still tall and almost barrel chested with his head held high,
less gray then brown in the mans hair that was held back with a
ridiculously expensive looking clasp from what Obi-Wan could see. The
beard matched the hair, well groomed with less lines and wrinkles
around the mans eyes and over his forehead. Dark leather and fabric
suited him along with a red belt around his waist. Overall the man
gave of a predatory air that his Qui-Gon had never done except when
needed, his Qui-Gon had always been a calm and placid lake until else
ward was needed.

And the eyes that was looking over him almost hungerly, taking in
Obi-Wan’s features as if he was drinking them in.

It made the Jedi look away.

“I see that our healer has taken care of your injuries. As they
were reported to me.” Obi-Wan glanced back at the sound of the mans
voice but Qui-Gon’s eyes were at this time focused on the blood
stains on Obi-Wan’s tunic. “That is good.” He reached out to
the console and brought the ray shield down.

Obi-Wan got to his feet instantly and backed away, meeting eyes amber
like honey as the man stepped towards him.

“Why aren’t I dead?” He got out and the taller man stopped,
seemingly taking in the words before continuing towards the Jedi.

“You are not dead because I requested it. My request was granted,
though you are sans Force ability with a low level sedation pumped
into your system.”  Qui-Gon prowled forward until he was looming
over Obi-Wan, reaching out and cupping the others cheek, thumb
stroking slowly underneath Obi-Wan’s eye.

“Your counterpart was killed by Jedi here. He was my apprentice and
I buried him in his tomb far before I was ready to have him attempt
himself against my life.” He smirked a bit before slowly continuing
to caress the Jedi’s cheek.

“To bad.” Obi-Wan slapped the others hand of him, glaring up at
him.

To his surprise, the Sith looked more amused then angered. “The
same spitfire spirit…”

The Jedi pressed his back against the wall, staring up at him as
Qui-Gon cupped his cheek. “I trained several apprentices after him.
Varying importance and skills, none with the same spitfire to try
themselves against me for my position in the Order.”

A heavy warm hand rested itself against Obi-Wan’s throat, his
heartbeat fluttering against it as the Sith and the Jedi stared at
each other.

“I won’t Fall. I’m a Jedi.” Obi-Wan swallowed, not caring if
the other could feel it.

“I don’t need you to Fall. I lost Obi-Wan before I even gave him
a name. His body is entombed. You? You are a pale imitation of what
he was, little Jedi. But you are genuine enough that I will not harm
you.” The other was pressing closer, trapping Obi-Wan against the
wall.

“Then what am I still doing here?” Obi-Wan growled, his heart
hurting at the sight of those eyes on him.

“Because I want you to be. And Sith do not deny themselves what
they want.”

“I have Lord Yoda’s permission to see the prisoner.”

The voice rang through the detention block and Obi-Wan let out a
sharp breath through his nose. Else he did not move.

He let his head remain bent, remained in lotus position with his
hands resting on his thighs, steadily breathing to keep his calm. He
was not going to panic, he was going to cling to the very last shreds
of his calm despite what had happened and despite what he had seen.

Every pair of yellow eyes in familiar faces…

He took another sharp breath as he listened to leather boots make
their way through the hall to Obi-Wan’s cell until they stopped.

If he had access to the Force, he would most likely been able to feel
the man outside his cell.

As it was, Obi-Wan relied on his other senses.

The soft shift of cloth against a tall body, the calm breathing and
the silence of everything else.

The other was right outside the ray shields that made the door of his
cell, watching him and Obi-Wan could feel his skin crawl even as a
smaller part of him cried out in painful awareness of the exact being
outside his cell.

“Open your eyes and look at me.” A familiar voice demanded and
Obi-Wan fought against the cry stuck in his throat.

He slowly did as told though, raising his head ever so slightly to
look at the man who had once trained him.

Qui-Gon Jinn, alive and handsome looking with his yellow eyes tainted
red by the ray shield. The Dark side had been kind to the man Obi-Wan
noted. Still tall and almost barrel chested with his head held high,
less gray then brown in the mans hair that was held back with a
ridiculously expensive looking clasp from what Obi-Wan could see. The
beard matched the hair, well groomed with less lines and wrinkles
around the mans eyes and over his forehead. Dark leather and fabric
suited him along with a red belt around his waist. Overall the man
gave of a predatory air that his Qui-Gon had never done except when
needed, his Qui-Gon had always been a calm and placid lake until else
ward was needed.

And the eyes that was looking over him almost hungerly, taking in
Obi-Wan’s features as if he was drinking them in.

It made the Jedi look away.

“I see that our healer has taken care of your injuries. As they
were reported to me.” Obi-Wan glanced back at the sound of the mans
voice but Qui-Gon’s eyes were at this time focused on the blood
stains on Obi-Wan’s tunic. “That is good.” He reached out to
the console and brought the ray shield down.

Obi-Wan got to his feet instantly and backed away, meeting eyes amber
like honey as the man stepped towards him.

“Why aren’t I dead?” He got out and the taller man stopped,
seemingly taking in the words before continuing towards the Jedi.

“You are not dead because I requested it. My request was granted,
though you are sans Force ability with a low level sedation pumped
into your system.”  Qui-Gon prowled forward until he was looming
over Obi-Wan, reaching out and cupping the others cheek, thumb
stroking slowly underneath Obi-Wan’s eye.

“Your counterpart was killed by Jedi here. He was my apprentice and
I buried him in his tomb far before I was ready to have him attempt
himself against my life.” He smirked a bit before slowly continuing
to caress the Jedi’s cheek.

“To bad.” Obi-Wan slapped the others hand of him, glaring up at
him.

To his surprise, the Sith looked more amused then angered. “The
same spitfire spirit…”

The Jedi pressed his back against the wall, staring up at him as
Qui-Gon cupped his cheek. “I trained several apprentices after him.
Varying importance and skills, none with the same spitfire to try
themselves against me for my position in the Order.”

A heavy warm hand rested itself against Obi-Wan’s throat, his
heartbeat fluttering against it as the Sith and the Jedi stared at
each other.

“I won’t Fall. I’m a Jedi.” Obi-Wan swallowed, not caring if
the other could feel it.

“I don’t need you to Fall. I lost Obi-Wan before I even gave him
a name. His body is entombed. You? You are a pale imitation of what
he was, little Jedi. But you are genuine enough that I will not harm
you.” The other was pressing closer, trapping Obi-Wan against the
wall.

“Then what am I still doing here?” Obi-Wan growled, his heart
hurting at the sight of those eyes on him.

“Because I want you to be. And Sith do not deny themselves what
they want.”