#fakemarried

[buginateacup]

Someone stop me writing this fakemarried fic or at least help me write it because otherwise I’m jut going to start posting the random snippets of scenes and make it everyone else’s problem

Also someone give me a better title than Rings

[sanerontheinside]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi

Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn

Additional Tags: Qui-Gon lives au, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Undercover Missions, Undercover as Married, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, (well. probably), anakin skywalker, Shmi Skywalker

Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn are assigned a joint mission for the first time since Obi-Wan’s Knighting. Due to the sensitive nature of the mission, they must travel undercover. Apparently the security forces providing them with their cover story found it expedient to pass them off as a married couple.

HAPPY MAY THE FOURTH EVERYONE!!! special thanks to @skyywalkerfen for a spot of beta’ing at the last minute 🥰 and @meggory84 and @northisnotup for being enabling enablers and for believing in me ❤️

[sanerontheinside]

12(for the kiss meme). obiqui

psssst where are all my fakemarried au ppls?

paging @meggory84 , @skyywalkerfen , @kettish , @punsbulletsandpointythings , @norcumi !

Later, if he’d been forced to defend himself, Qui-Gon might have said that he’d fallen too deep into his role. If he’d cared to lie.

In the moment he gave up thinking altogether and pulled Obi-Wan into a tight, near-desperate embrace, only half-registering that Obi-Wan clung to him just as fiercely. Qui-Gon pulled back just enough to cup Obi-Wan’s face in his hands and press a kiss to his brow. Obi-Wan slumped, let out a small, involuntary whimper, and Qui-Gon couldn’t bear the sound. It broke something in him, broke him apart and unleashed something fiercely possessive. Qui-Gon suddenly couldn’t get enough of the feel of that smooth rain-damp skin against his cracked lips, and showered light, quick kisses anywhere he could reach—eyebrows, cheeks, bridge of the nose, eyelids—until Obi-Wan covered Qui-Gon’s hands with his own and gripped them firmly.

“It’s all right, Qui, I’m here, I’m all right,” he whispered, eyes closed and expression soft.

“Gods, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon murmured, and before he could think, before he could even comprehend what he was doing, he bent down and pressed his lips to Obi-Wan’s.

His brain caught up with him only a split second later, at the sound of a soft hum and the feel of Obi-Wan melting into him. And because his brain was merciless when least appropriate, it took care to remind him that this was his Knight partner and former Padawan; that they weren’t newlyweds in truth, only in mission legend; and that they were standing not so great a distance away from a wreckage. Qui-Gon was overjoyed to have Obi-Wan here, alive, and in his arms, but there were others surely in need of their help.

But while his mind was busy playing out an entire mental and emotional speederwreck, Qui-Gon’s mouth had done without any kind of instruction. It was the sting of teeth on his lower lip that brought Qui-Gon sharply back to reality. If that hadn’t been enough, the ticklish brush of the tip of Obi-Wan’s tongue that followed almost certainly would have shattered any remaining doubts that Obi-Wan was anything less than an avid participant in this.

The idea was so novel, and so startling, it punched a low, rough sound out of Qui-Gon’s chest. Obi-Wan shuddered deliciously against him. His hands, warm and strong, drifted up to Qui-Gon’s shoulders, then squeezed, nudged him back just a little. Qui-Gon let Obi-Wan move him as he would, but in the end there was barely an inch between them. Obi-Wan was looking at him with an expression Qui-Gon didn’t know how to read—or didn’t dare to.

“We still have work to do,” Obi-Wan murmured, voice only for the space between them and a wry smile on his lips.

“We do,” Qui-Gon agreed. Wondering if that meant he should let go, step back—

Obi-Wan pressed in closer, instead, winding his arms around Qui-Gon tight enough to make the man uncomfortably aware of his ribs before letting go and slowly easing them apart. “Most of the passengers and crew are out of the wreckage. We should help the emergency team.”

“We should get ourselves cleared by the emergency team, first,” Qui-Gon insisted amused. Obi-Wan was singed, bruised, and no little amount of ash stuck fast to his skin and clothes, slick with rain. Qui-Gon wasn’t sure there was dried blood in Obi-Wan’s hair, but he didn’t doubt for a second that there had been plenty opportunities for a knock on the head in the crash.

Obi-Wan seemed torn between glaring at his former Master and indulging his mission partner, so Qui-Gon decided to tip the balance in his favour with a soft “Please?”

Any protest Obi-Wan might have had crumpled away in the face of that one word, and he went willingly enough—though he pushed Qui-Gon ahead of himself, grumbling about getting knocked on the back of the head and stuffed into an emergency escape shuttle with a handful of hostile, corrupt politicians who were to be trusted even less than pirates. Qui-Gon decided it was better not to argue, if there was no other way to get Obi-Wan to sit still for a quick exam.

The medic who looked both of them over scowled, diagnosed them with a concussion apiece, and growled some choice disapproving words about Jedi who were going to ignore his orders anyway, see if he cared, and snapped a bracelet on both their wrists to monitor their vitals overnight.

“Terrible bedside manners,” Qui-Gon muttered under his breath, half-afraid the old Akathian would hear him and come back.

“Absolutely appalling,” Obi-Wan agreed, having heard him anyway. “But I think maybe he’s had to deal with crazy people far too long.”

Qui-Gon looked up just in time to see the same Akathian bearing down angrily across the field to Madleth, who was busy securing the arrests of the men Qui-Gon had left tied up in the emergency shuttle. The Head of State Security had her back to them, and yet still flinched preemptively, no doubt at the sound of an angry medic coming at her from behind.

“As long as he keeps her busy, he’s not keeping us here,” Qui-Gon pointed out. “Come on, let’s go see if we can help.”

Obi-Wan grinned and went along gamely.

It took some hours, to figure out which passengers were in need of alternate accommodations, which needed medical care and a medcenter stay, how they were all going to be transported, and how the matter of their lost baggage would be addressed. Obi-Wan discussed the environmental impact with one of the volunteers who’d responded to the emergency call, and agreed to put in an immediate request with the AgriCorps for an official appraisal and recovery plans. Qui-Gon noted the slightly guilty pinch to his expression, and did his best to reassure Obi-Wan, if by proximity alone.

“The Order can’t afford that sort of damage,” Obi-Wan said ruefully.

“Technically the saboteur was hired by one of the corporations who were attempting to fix an election outcome and bribe the incoming candidate,” Qui-Gon pointed out. “There’s sure to be a lawyer or two who would gladly take on a corporate case.”

“It’ll take years,” Obi-Wan protested.

“In the meantime, the AgriCorps will provide what services they can.”

Obi-Wan’s lips thinned into a grim line, but he nodded. “All right. Is there anything else we’re needed for?”

Qui-Gon looked around, noting the remaining groups of people clumped by the hotels they were soon to be transported to. The beach was almost empty. “Not tonight, I think. Shall we join the others?”

Obi-Wan nodded. In the light of the setting sun, he looked pale and exhausted, and Qui-Gon reached out to wrap an arm around him, pulling Obi-Wan in against his side. He didn’t let go, not in the shuttle, not even in the lift to their rooms.

They’d been given a suite with a single bed, of course—Madleth had booked the arrangements for a married couple from cruise to hotel room, and hadn’t bothered to change it now that their mission was done. Qui-Gon sighed and shook his head, far too exhausted to sort out his thoughts on the matter, and pushed Obi-Wan into the ‘fresher instead. He turned around, then stopped, reconsidering. “Are you going to fall down in there?”

“… No?”

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Listen for the sound of a body hitting the floor.”

“Right.” Qui-Gon sighed, and settled down against the wall just outside the door, resolved to do just that.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but a warm hand squeezed his shoulder gently, waking him. “Hm?”

“I didn’t fall,” Obi-Wan smiled down at him, the tips of his hair still dripping, “but I did wake up trying to, once or twice. You, on the other hand…”

Qui-Gon’s mouth felt dry, stuck in place, so he simply blinked and refused to take offense while trying to pick himself up off the floor. Obi-Wan’s hands automatically slipped into his and helped haul him up. “Thank you,” Qui-Gon said, or tried to. For some reason, the gesture left him oddly, guiltily shy. The fact that he was slipping into the ‘fresher to hide from this vision of his tousled, freshly-showered, towel-wrapped Knight partner didn’t make it any easier.

Qui-Gon felt ridiculously grateful for the fact that by the time he came out, hands occupied with toweling the still-dripping ends of his hair, Obi-Wan was already deeply asleep. Qui-Gon stared at the him for a long moment, taking in the copper hair, the lamplight casting golden overtones onto it and onto the smooth, pale expanse of skin, the curve of his spine, the gentle rise and fall of his ribs. Then he sighed, turned off the lamp, and slipped under the light covers beside Obi-Wan.

Moonlight spilled in through the high windows. Gorgeous as Obi-Wan was in lamplight, Qui-Gon loved this view of him as well. Greatly daring, he reached out with the lightest of touch to brush a few stray hairs out of the sleeping man’s eyes and behind his ear. Obi-Wan murmured something and turned to follow those fingers, catlike.

Guiltily, Qui-Gon caught his hand back. The last thing he wanted was to wake Obi-Wan now, when he’d finally fallen asleep. Qui-Gon closed his eyes, and breathed in the clean scent of him, breathing deeply and evenly until he, too, relaxed into true rest.

It occurred to Obi-Wan that there was nothing better than waking up this way, surrounded by warmth, wrapped in strong arms and feeling the light stirring of Qui-Gon’s breath in his hair. Obi-Wan sighed and squirmed a little, burrowing deeper into the embrace while he still could enjoy it. The warmth of it, and the sound of Qui-Gon’s steady heartbeat in his ear threatened to lull him back to sleep, but Obi-Wan stubbornly kept himself awake, curled against Qui-Gon’s chest. He treasured every moment of this, resolved to bask in it for the last time before it ended.

He really had no idea how they could ever go back to the relationship they’d had before this mission. Obi-Wan had lived an impossible dream in the last few weeks, and the knowledge that he might never have this again filled him with a bottomless ache.

But he was quickly distracted from that train of thought. Qui-Gon stirred, waking with a deep sigh and a gentle stretch, his arms tightening around Obi-Wan as he shifted. Obi-Wan smiled at the sound of his pleased rumble, and the feel of Qui-Gon nuzzling into his hair. “Good morning, Qui,” he said.

“Mmhm,” Qui-Gon hummed, slowly drawing back and opening his eyes to look at him.

Obi-Wan’s breath caught. He’d never imagined his former Master looking at him like that—open and adoring, limned in golden morning light, as though nothing and no one else existed yet. “Hello there,” he murmured, soft and fond, reaching up to run light fingers over Qui-Gon’s cheek. Qui-Gon nuzzled into his palm, rumbling like a giant, pleased cat.

“Good morning,” he finally said, voice lower and rougher than Obi-Wan ever remembered hearing it.

Force, but he had no idea how to extricate himself from this. “I didn’t want to wake you,” Obi-Wan said, letting his hand slide further, into Qui-Gon’s hair. “I think you needed the rest.”

“Mm. You had me worried.”

Obi-Wan sputtered at that, amused. “I had you worried? You’re the one they took hostage!”

“And you were aboard the ship with a reactor about to go critical,” Qui-Gon rumbled, accusation in his tone. “The captain told me you crashed it, too.”

“I did.” Obi-Wan grinned, a brief, fleeting thing. “They were afraid of you. Never know what someone will do, when they’re afraid of their captive.”

“No,” Qui-Gon agreed. “Never know someone will survive crashing a ship, either.”

Obi-Wan tried to look at least mildly offended, especially in the face of that raised eyebrow that he knew so well, and gods, he desperately wanted to defuse the worry before Qui-Gon got to it. “I was aiming to save the passengers, I’ll have you know, I—”

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon cut him off, catching his hand in a gentle grasp and tracing a calming circle over the back of his hand. The look in Qui-Gon’s eyes completely stole his breath away, for good measure. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he whispered, and drew Obi-Wan’s hand up to press the barest hint of a kiss to his knuckles.

Obi-Wan stared at him, speechless. “I—you—” he stammered briefly, then gave up again, feeling like there wasn’t enough air between them.

“I couldn’t bear to lose you, Obi-Wan.”

The swell of emotion that accompanied the words had Obi-Wan curling into Qui-Gon’s chest and hiding his face, pressing his ear to the sound of Qui-Gon’s even heartbeat. It had always calmed him, grounded him in the worst of turmoil, and Obi-Wan sought it now.

Only Qui-Gon Jinn could ever find a way to undo him with words, Obi-Wan reflected wryly.

“I did wonder,” Obi-Wan said softly, into the relative safety of not having to look Qui-Gon in the eye while he said it, “on the beach.”

“This mission was…” Under Obi-Wan’s ear, Qui-Gon’s pulse picked up just a touch. “It was difficult, being near you, playing a part that I suddenly realised I dearly wanted to fill in truth. Had wanted… for quite some time, I suspect. If you would have me. I didn’t know if… I didn’t know how to ask it. I thought I’d ask after we’d returned to Coruscant, and then I thought that would be too long a delay. Of course,” Qui-Gon added, with a dry chuckle, “then I got hit in the back of the head, and bound for good measure.”

Cautiously, Obi-Wan reached out and traced a finger down Qui-Gon’s arm, from shoulder to elbow. “That, too, was an unnecessary delay,” he said, then shifted to lean up on his elbow and look Qui-Gon in the eye. “I love you,” he went on, voice as even as he could manage and meant only for the space between them. “I have for years, now. And I’m very glad for this mission, suddenly, if that’s what it took for you to discover the same.”

When Qui-Gon shifted, as if to rise, Obi-Wan held up a finger. “I’d still rather not worry about losing you, myself. We’ve come too close to that once already.”

Qui-Gon’s face was an unreadable mask for a brief, tense moment. Then the tension snapped like an uncoiling spring. In the midst of it Obi-Wan found himself tugged down and held close, kisses pressed to the top of his head and his ear and neck and collarbone and temple while he squirmed, surprised and a bit ticklish. “Qui!”

And yet he was laughing, breathless and wild for the feel of smooth warm skin under his hands, for the play of muscle as Qui-Gon rolled them over and settled above him, over him, his expression soft and sleepwarm again, like they hadn’t just danced a knife-edge between heartbreak and joy.

There was, still, an edge of desperation to the kiss that followed. Obi-Wan soothed it as best he could, opening to the heat and sinking into it, dropping the shields around their pairbond. Qui-Gon gasped into his mouth, broke away to nibble at Obi-Wan’s neck, the tiny sting of teeth somehow more vivid under the tip of his tongue and sending sparks skittering across Obi-Wan’s skin. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped him, and then Qui-Gon’s own shields melted away.

Oh, but what a gift, to be welcomed into his Master’s mind and heart this way. Obi-Wan basked in the warmth of it, ached for the sharp sting of hunger that ran through them both. That Qui-Gon had kept so much fire and sheer want under durasteel control was at once amazing and painful. We’ve wasted so much time, Obi-Wan thought frantically, trying to all but crawl into Qui-Gon’s skin, into his very lungs; to curl up in there safely, wrapped and surrounded and subsumed.

“It wasn’t wasted,” Qui-Gon broke away for a shallow, panted breath.

Obi-Wan let out a burst of helpless, breathless laughter as Qui-Gon’s teeth found a ticklish spot. “No?” Qui-Gon’s skin against his, calloused hands sending sheets of cold and flame roaring through Obi-Wan’s body and making him shudder—how could anyone stand this?

“No,” Qui-Gon rumbled, voice so deep and dark and drenched with promise that Obi-Wan felt more than heard it. “All the more time for me to think of all the things I want to do with you, to you.”

“Really? Oh—” Obi-Wan gasped as Qui-Gon devoted his complete attention to first one nipple, then gingerly skittered his fingers across Obi-Wan’s ribs to the other. The wildfire rush of sensation made Obi-Wan shiver as if he were cold. “And—Qui! Dammit, let me talk!”

A low chuckle answered him, but Qui-Gon did, mercifully, ease back a touch.

The look in his eyes might’ve been enough to undo Obi-Wan all by itself. “Tell me, Qui,” he whispered, mouth desert-dry beneath that longing, searing gaze. “Tell me what you want, love.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes fell shut, his expression smoothing to something resembling an attempt at calm. But when he opened them again, Obi-Wan found himself staring into blue fire.

“I want to hear you,” Qui-Gon rasped. “I want to hear everything, Obi-Wan.”

For the first time in ages Obi-Wan reached for words and found none. He nodded mutely instead, eyes fixed on Qui-Gon’s as Qui-Gon bent his head down and returned to the task of driving his lover wild with tongue and teeth and hands alone.

There’s bound to be more of the smut later but for now…

[sanerontheinside]

7 for ObiQui please!!!

@kettish bit more fakemarried! @meggory84, fakemarried? fakemarried!! hehehehehei’m evil 

Obi-Wan had never been more grateful for the pair-bond he shared with Qui-Gon than the moment he appeared at Obi-Wan’s shoulder, hand outstretched, and asked, “May I have this dance?”

Obi-Wan smiled brilliantly at him and let himself be pulled away from the conversation. The moment they were out of earshot and mingling with the dancers in the middle of the room, he hissed out a relieved breath between his teeth. “Undercover assignments just bring out the worst in people,” he muttered into Qui-Gon’s shoulder.

Oh, they don’t know you’re a Jedi and tell you all their sordid plans, hm? Such hardship, Qui-Gon chuckled, the deep rumble warm and grounding, but his hold on Obi-Wan tightened. “You’re shaking,” he said softly, the bond between them full of affection and a hint of concern.

“Just angry.” He’s not even part of our mission, for Force’s sake.

No. I’m sure Madleth would be happy to know of his operations, nevertheless. “Are you up for this, or should we call it a night?”

Obi-Wan shook his head slightly. The music was soothing, slow and intimate, and Qui-Gon’s arms around him were reassuring like nothing else could have been in that moment. He wasn’t sure Qui-Gon would still hold him like this in the privacy of their berth. Just once, he wanted to indulge in this much-craved contact. “One dance,” he said.

Qui-Gon nodded, and drew Obi-Wan close again, nuzzling into his hair. The move surprised Obi-Wan, but then—Newlyweds, he reminded himself, and decided to enjoy the moment. He drew back far enough to look up at Qui-Gon, let his hands slide up over warm cloth and splayed them over Qui-Gon’s shoulder blades, watching intently as Qui-Gon’s eyes half-closed in obvious pleasure.

This was an unexpected side of his Master, this freedom of expression and delight in sensation. At first, Obi-Wan had expected this mission not to be much different from their usual paired assignments. Being on this end of Qui-Gon’s concern, his care, the focus of nearly all his attention when Obi-Wan needed it most—that was nothing new.

Yet Qui-Gon had surprised him several times over. Obi-Wan knew, for instance, that he could dance: Qui-Gon once made a point of teaching him several forms for various diplomatic engagements and celebrations. But he’d never seen his Master dance like this, pressed close and completely comfortable. As Qui-Gon’s Padawan, he’d learned that his Master hid much of himself away under a tightly controlled mask of perfect serenity. But this level of intimacy, even of casual contact—Obi-Wan had never seen Qui-Gon share it with anyone else.

Mostly, Obi-Wan just wanted to bask in it. He let his mind float free on the music, following Qui-Gon’s lead. It ended all too soon, sending an almost physical pang of disappointment through him as Qui-Gon gently released him and stepped back. Obi-Wan followed, too dazed to protest. When the music began for the next dance, Obi-Wan gave it less than a moment’s thought before pulling Qui-Gon back out onto the floor, gratified when Qui-Gon went willingly.

Two minutes later Obi-Wan found himself wondering if he had, perhaps, miscalculated. It must have shown on his face, because Qui-Gon gave him an utterly wicked grin and picked him bodily up off the floor in a dizzying spin, laughing. Not to be out-done, Obi-Wan rose to the challenge and pulled Qui-Gon into a faster spin.

The music crazily barrelled on ahead with ever-increasing speed, like a competition to see who could possibly keep up and keep their feet. It whipped up a sense of unreality, almost like being drunk. The noise around them dulled to a constant roar, leaving nothing to focus on but the dance, and Obi-Wan’s partner. His partner… Qui-Gon’s face was lit with a carefree happiness that Obi-Wan had never seen. Qui-Gon’s hair was desperately trying to escape his loose tail, strands curling along his neck, stuck to his forehead. His eyes, deep, entrancing blue, sparkled with joy.

He was beautiful—distracting. They fell into each other, they fell into other dancers, other people careened into them—chaos, but all of it exhilarating and ridiculously fun.

The chaos didn’t end with the music. By the end, half the dance-floor was still dizzily staggering in an approximation of the steps, and Obi-Wan spotted a clear path out of the hall by sheer luck. He darted for it, pulling Qui-Gon along after him, and tripped on the stairs right as he flew out into the passage, not expecting to run into them so soon. Strong arms caught him up before he could fall, and Obi-Wan melted into the touch. Qui-Gon kept an arm wrapped around his waist all the way back to their berth, kept Obi-Wan pressed tightly to his side.

Obi-Wan was still giggling when they made it to their berth. He couldn’t help himself, not even when Qui-Gon hit his head on the way in, not ducking far enough as he entered. Obi-Wan winced in sympathy, pulling Qui-Gon in the rest of the way until the door shut behind him.

“Did that hurt?”

“No more than usual,” Qui-Gon said, with a faint grimace—one that didn’t dull the look of happiness on his face, thankfully. Obi-Wan reached up to smooth a few runway strands of hair back and tuck them behind Qui-Gon’s ears, making that his very singular focus. He moved with the exaggerated care of the inebriated, though he was completely sober—he thought, anyway. Something about that dance had left him feeling like he’d had one or two more glasses of Corellian brandy than strictly recommended.

Qui-Gon was watching him intently. Obi-Wan didn’t look up, unsure that he wanted to know what was in that gaze, but he didn’t shy away either. “We should do that more often,” he said.

“I’m not sure the Council can afford to send us on galactic cruises.”

There was that wry smile in Qui-Gon’s voice that did absolutely terrible things to Obi-Wan’s state of mind. He shook his head, laughing. “Well, who knows, between Anakin and Artoo we could probably run the whole—”

Temple, he’d meant to say. But he was entirely lost in the look on Qui-Gon’s face, the wide grin, the sound of his laugh that Obi-Wan almost never got to hear—the real one, the deep, expressive laugh, not the soft or near-silent chuckle. He wondered how long he’d been standing there looking at him awestruck, before Qui-Gon moved closer, leaned in, like he was waiting…

What possessed him, Obi-Wan couldn’t say. But he let himself lean forward, let his eyes fall closed, let this strange dance draw to its logical conclusion. The kiss—it was soft, gentle, sweet as it was tentative. Heat flooded his veins, and Obi-Wan let himself sink further into it, opening in invitation to the tongue that brushed gently against his lips.

It lasted only a moment, and ended too quickly. Obi-Wan drew back just far enough to look up at his Master, suddenly very, very confused. Even Qui-Gon seemed somewhat bewildered. They hovered on the point, not certain where to go from here.

A bang and a cheer from the hall outside broke the moment, and Obi-Wan shied away involuntarily. He thought he caught a flash of disappointment on Qui-Gon’s face, but it was gone far too quickly for him to be sure, and Qui-Gon, of course, said nothing.

“We have an early start tomorrow if we want to have a look around without anyone noticing,” Qui-Gon said instead.

“Right,” Obi-Wan murmured awkwardly, and stepped back, nodding once. After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded again, and did his best not to flee too obviously into the fresher.

the meme | the askbox

[sanerontheinside]

oh my god I need more fakemarried in my life, it's actually amazing and I'm loving it! if you'll continue it I'll be very glad to read it c: have a nice day!

eeeeee!!! thank you! I’m working on it, so far it’s disjointed bits but it has a shape, I’m just wrangling.... ok quite a lot of empty spaces atm. a lot. um... hmmm. to drop excerpt or not to drop excerpt... that is the question......... 

ah bugger it 

@kettish, @meggory84, @punsbulletsandpointythings :)

Obi-Wan was already waiting outside the Council chamber. Qui-Gon bit back a smile at the sight of him, sharp-eyed and glaring at the heavy doors. The Council summons had likely disturbed a bit of much-needed rest.

The glare vanished the instant Obi-Wan sensed his approach. A quick change smoothed away the furrow in Obi-Wan’s brow and turned up the corners of his mouth. The fire in his eyes softened to a welcoming glow that warmed Qui-Gon to his toes. “Are we both here to see the Council, then?”

Qui-Gon nodded. “It would appear so. Another mission assignment, you think?”

Obi-Wan frowned thoughtfully at the floor. “With Anakin on exam rotation? And an early morning summons, at that. Sounds like they couldn't get anyone else for the job.”

“Don't spoil the surprise,” Qui-Gon grumbled, much to Obi-Wan’s amusement.

“You were hoping for something peaceful for once?” Obi-Wan teased. “Ratification of environmental protection accords for a luxury resort, facing potential climate disturbance from the tourist business that keeps the planet running in the first place? Such a delicate negotiation…”

Qui-Gon shushed him, hanging on to his composure by a thin thread. “You know, I think structuring such agreements usually goes to Masters in the Agricorps.”

Obi-Wan grinned. “Now, if only I’d known that ten years ago.”

Qui-Gon’s chest tightened suddenly. It wasn't serious, he knew, but still—“I find myself very glad you didn't.”

Obi-Wan gave him an odd look, and Qui-Gon thought he would have spoken, but of course at that moment the heavy doors opened and the Council Padawan waved them in. Qui-Gon wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer, anyway. Another offhand quip, he wouldn't have found particularly reassuring. He couldn't even rightly say what had bothered him in the first place.

Qui-Gon turned his attention to the currents in the Council chamber, instead, which were plenty distracting. The mood wasn’t precisely tense, but more charged with intrigue and tasting of delicate manipulation. Qui-Gon frowned. That didn't necessarily bode well.

Obi-Wan's end of their pair bond prickled with muted, but rather definite suspicion. They were in agreement on that, then. Where the Council was concerned, intrigue almost always meant trouble—and Senate polítics.

“Good morning,” Mace said, setting a brisk and businesslike tone as only someone who’d been awake for at least an hour could do. Qui-Gon caught the distinct impression of a scowl from Obi-Wan’s end of the bond, and bit back a smile. “The Council has recently been approached by a Senator from Akath’im with an interesting request.”

Qui-Gon nearly choked on air.

Akath’im was a resort world. Moreover, it was reasonably distant, a favourite hideaway for retired Core-world politicians—and it was currently desperate for an agreement that would allow the Akathi to regulate the amount of traffic they received, in hopes of limiting environmental damage. Obi-Wan?

Believe me, I had no idea. Obi-Wan did sound completely flabbergasted and sincere.

You’re not allowed to say another word about the mission or the transport, Qui-Gon told him crossly. He was beginning to suspect that Obi-Wan’s prescience had taken to a particularly wicked presentation of late, cropping up in harmless jokes and offhand comments. Qui-Gon didn’t actually want any proof to substantiate that particular idea, and he rather hoped it hadn’t crossed Obi-Wan’s mind, either.

“Akathi Intelligence suspects some of its candidates in the Senatorial race may have been influenced by their corporate connections, or by the local cartels—they’re not particularly happy with either possibility,” Mace went on. “It has recently come to their attention that several of the candidates have booked seats on an intergalactic cruiseline, along with people who might be connected with the cartels, and to the businesses with the highest stakes in the upcoming climate accord negotiations. They requested our assistance in determining which, if any, of the candidates have significant ties to parties who may be inclined to influence the final shape of this agreement.”

“I wasn’t aware of the Akathi approaching the Senate since their petition to negotiate the environmental accords was granted,” Obi-Wan remarked.

“Which is what adds a level of delicacy to this mission,” Ki-Adi spoke up. “It is unlikely that the venture would ever have the proper backing of the Senate, due to the involvement of the guilds, but it does have the quiet backing of several influential Senators. With their support, the Akathi Senator was granted an exception and allowed to approach the Jedi Council directly. Of course, Senator Selliaht stressed the need for discretion.”

Qui-Gon nearly winced. “So this will be an undercover mission.”

“Quite so,” Mace confirmed. “You will be coordinating with the Akathi Intelligence Head of Operations, Nami Madleth, who is here to provide both of you with more technical details, and with your cover story. She will meet you at 0600 in the J-level hangar. The cruise is two tens’ length, and the Akathi would prefer the matter resolved before the candidates return.”

Amazing, Obi-Wan muttered, how a popular resort world is granted an exception and allowed to approach the Council directly.

Surprised? Aloud, Qui-Gon said, “My Padawan is currently in the midst of his exam term. Is there a role for him in this mission, or has the Council decided on other accommodations for the duration?” At least it plays a minor enough role in galactic politics that its people can sway the Senate to act directly in their favour.

Obi-Wan sent back a touch of rueful agreement.

Depa cleared her throat gently. “Your Padawan’s accommodations have been finalised, Master Jinn. His exam term has been extended, in favour of spreading out assessments and assignments in a manner less likely to convince young Skywalker that sleep is a worthy sacrifice.” She eyed Obi-Wan at that, but he only offered her a politely bland expression in return. “This mission fit the time frame for your in-Temple rotation, and Knight Kenobi’s return was fortuitous.”

Mace nodded. “And I discussed this arrangement with Lady Skywalker earlier this morning.”

[sanerontheinside]

melinda-t-charville replied to your post: oh my god I need more fakemarried in my life, it's...

Is this the “pre” of the other one? Either way I love it but they do have a similar feel!

oh, yep, it’s all one and the same fakemarried. 1/ Obi-Wan comes back from his mission  2/ (dinner, unpublished) 3/ Council assigns a mission .......... stuff ?/ actually on the cruise ship, dances and kissing ........... moar stuff ??/ happy stuff

[allthingsdarkanddirty]

Lucy Lennox ~ Marrying Mr. Majestic ~ Release Blitz / Teasers

Title: Marrying Mr. Majestic Author: Lucy Lennox Genre: Contemporary Romance Tropes: Wake Up Married in Vegas/Secret Billionaire Fake Marrie

[mikekingjr]

Some #BTS shots from our AZ location, featuring the LOVELY AND AMAZING @libbyabaker! Out of all the THOUSANDS of actors auditioning for projects in Hollywood, she and I have been booked together TWICE... last just a few months ago as my #fakewife in an as yet unreleased @homeadvisor commercial. Is it fate that we are meant to be #fakemarried, or what???!!! Also please meet the rest of my #fakefamily, all actors also out here from LA. (at Phoenix, Arizona) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5_qyoDJjgb/?igshid=6fwh20pym5ak