darththalia (darththalia) wrote in tpm_flashback, @ 2004-11-01 18:01:00 |
|
|||
Original poster: raina_at
Title: Lost in Translation
Author: Helen
Rating: R
Pairing: Q/O
Warnings: none
Author's e-mail, web site and/or LJ id: heleninhell@juno.com, helenish
Link to story: Lost in Translation
Reasons for recommending: This may not be the world's greatest literary masterpiece, but damn it, it's entertaining as hell.
I like this story mainly because it's one of the few PleasureSlave!Qui stories out there, and of course because it takes the pleasure slave concept out for such a lovely and funny spin. Summarising: Qui-Gon gets brainwashed into believing that he's Obi-Wan's pleasure slave. Hilarity ensues.
The story is by turns hot, witty, outright funny, cute and romantic. It makes me smile, laugh, sigh and get hot and bothered in turns, and sometimes all of it in one scene. It's gentle comedy and sublte romance. It's an old concept done in an interesting way. It's one of the stories I can re-read often and still like as much as I did the first time around.
Sadly, as far as I know, this is the only TPM story Helen has written. I would like to be proven wrong, though.
Quote from story: "Would you like me to make breakfast?"
"You can do that?"
"A pleasure slave shall be well versed in the niceties of domestic duty, so as to provide a tranquil setting in which his master may better enjoy his talents." He took a breath, obviously ready to go on, and Obi-Wan said,
"Breakfast: why don't you go make breakfast?"
He wasn't entirely certain what to expect, since Qui-Gon was really more of a "here's a bag of oats, what do you mean all the milk's gone sour?" sort of person; Obi-Wan usually did the cooking, such as it was. He half expected Qui-Gon to present him with a ration bar cut into tasteful pieces and insist on feeding it to him, but Qui-Gon, in a half an hour, produced a group of risen sweet biscuits, fruit salad, tea and juice. Then he sat down and watched Obi-Wan eat.
"You can eat," Obi-Wan said. "These are really good," he added, waving a biscuit vaguely in Qui-Gon's direction. Qui-Gon took a biscuit and sat down on the couch next to Obi-Wan, tucking his feet neatly underneath him.
"Can I rub your feet?" he said, through a mouthful of biscuit.
"Let's not get carried away," Obi-Wan said, and Qui-Gon nodded, finished the biscuit, produced Obi-Wan's datapad from somewhere behind him and then slouched bonelessly down next to Obi-Wan, nuzzling into his side.