Two Halfs of One Warrior • Obikin/Vaderwan One-Shots

They Say Sex is a Weapon, You're My Executioner

• Summary: “So this is all my fault? If I had only had the good sense to not die fighting a Sith, you wouldn’t be sleeping with your Padawan?!”

“Former Padawan,” Obi-Wan argues weakly.

The look Qui-Gon levels at him is crawling with disappointment.

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Sometimes, when Obi-Wan is mediating alone, Qui-Gon appears before him.

He never appears older, always remaining the age he’d died at. Obi-Wan is grateful the brutal wound in his stomach is never present; such a harsh reminder of his own failure would be too much for him to see again and again.

This time it happens while Obi-Wan is meditating in his private quarters on the Negotiator. He feels the Force bend then snap back into place, his old master’s distinct signature filling the space like water in a container.

Obi-Wan, from where he’s hovering above the floor, facing towards the small cabin’s only window, does not turn around.

This time is different from the others, he can already tell. Qui-Gon does not feel calm and balanced, his force signature teems with severity.

Obi-Wan does not need to be told why. He’s really not interested in having the conversation that is about to occur.

“Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan does not react. He prays to the force that perhaps if he doesn’t acknowledge the ghost in his cabin, Qui-Gon will go away.

Qui-Gon does not.

“What do you think you’re doing here?”

“Mediating,” Obi-Wan answers obstinately. They both know that isn’t what Qui-Gon meant. At this point, Obi-Wan is delaying the inevitable.

“Now is not the time to be obtuse. Your actions are beyond serious.”

The searing anger that flashes through Obi-Wan threatens to disrupt his concentration, making him waver in the air. Taking a deep breath, he collects the negative emotions in his heart and releases them on his next exhale.

Qui-Gon isn’t saying anything that Obi-Wan doesn’t already know.

He’s gone past foolish, past selfish. He’s been indulgent to the point of total self-destruction. He’s crushed his morals in his palm and watched the dust drift to the ground.

As a younger man, Obi-Wan aspired to be a paradigm of Jedi practices, to lead by righteous example. He’s fallen so far from that goal it would be laughable if it wasn’t so tragic.

Such anxious thoughts curl around Obi-Wan’s force signature like a snake. He wavers once more, this time just barely able to stay in place.

“I’m aware of that,” Obi-Wan responds, voice tight.

“Are you really?”

Qui-Gon, never one to avoid confrontation, materializes in front of Obi-Wan, who staunchly refuses to open his eyes.

Qui-Gon scoffs. Ire flares in his force signature.

“You’re lucky I’m not tangible,” he says harshly, “Or I’d have slapped you back into sense by now.”

Obi-Wan’s lip twists like he’s eaten a lemon.

“How very like you to resort to violence.”

“Do you really want to go down that road? You want to talk about morals?”