Master Apprentice Archive Aahntie Boo and the Jedi Meet Again Quick search:

Aahntie Boo and the Jedi Meet Again

by Bonny ( BonnyMagret@hotmail.com )

Archive: Master_Apprentice

Pairing: Q/O

Category: Humour, Drama, Angst

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: More sweet romantic fluff – if you are offended by middle- aged ladies with spunk and colloquial clichés, you don't need to read this one.

Spoilers - none

Summary: Aahntie Boo thought she'd never see the Jedi boyz again, but fate has a way of coming full circle.

Feedback: are you kidding? Of course! On list or off list, good or bad, I'll take `em all.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Lucas thought these guys up, and owns them entirely. I am just trying to bring them to life off screen (and get them laid).

Credits and Thanks: After I finished the first story of Aahntie Boo, she just wouldn't quit talking to me and kept insisting that I write more of her story. So I gave her another shot. I wasn't sure if Boo had had her moment in cyber-sun and needed to go quietly to the dusty archives, but my friends and compatriots-in-crime, Inya and Alex, both said there might be some more life left in the old broad yet. So here she is. I sincerely invite one and all to let me know if they think we've all seen enough of Boo and I shall let her die a peaceful OC death (oops, that's a bad metaphor for this story). Alex did my beta and she remains the sterling example which I seek to emulate. Credit for all yucky tweaks, however, is all mine.

There was little Aahntie Boo liked less than waiting in lines and waiting in line in a bank ranked pretty high on her I-bet-I-have- something-much-more-important-to-do-than-stand-here-doing-nothing list. Unfortunately, she didn't really have much of an option. Her daughter was getting married; her one and only child, her precious flesh and blood. It should be the happiest time of her middle age. But it wasn't. Instead of being elated, she was royally pissed off. Said daughter had decided that, since she had so few blood relatives and since most of her friends had moved to far and distant parts of the world, she would just get married on Mauritius.

Mauritius. On the other side of the planet, for crying out loud; a tiny island nation that specialized in providing paparazzi-free vacation accommodations for celebrities. It wasn't as if Aahntie Boo begrudged her daughter a nice wedding on a tropical island necessitated by the fact that her fiancé was a world-renowned author. She didn't. She begrudged her daughter for making her stand in line in a bank for a half hour on a pretty spring afternoon just before closing time when she could have been in the rocker on her back porch - all because the hotel wouldn't accept MasterCard, Visa or American Express. They had to have an international cashier's check. Aahntie Boo would lay good money that truly famous celebs didn't have to send international cashier's checks to reserve rooms. Well, maybe their `people' did it for them.

Oh well. There were worse things in life. Like having to lose twenty pounds in two months so she could fit into the dress her daughter wanted her to wear; a fluffy concoction of fine pink silk. Aahntie Boo had hated it on sight. She wasn't a fluffy-pink-silk kind of person. She was a tailored-suits-and-sensible-shoes kind of person. What did her daughter expect of a short middle-aged plump woman? "It's my only wedding! Please, mama," the girl had wheedled, "you'll be beautiful."

Maybe it wouldn't have been so frustrating if she hadn't broken her ankle last month. Just a little side step that went awry and now she had a titanium heel and surgical steel pins under a fifty pound cast. Well, maybe it wasn't really fifty pounds; it just felt like it. At least she had progressed from the non-weight bearing crutches to using a cane and walking cast just this week.

That made it a little more bearable, but only a little bit. Here it was a fine spring day and here she was in line in a bank with some kind of bright-blue rock-hard polymer from toe to knee. She hadn't known that they didn't make them out of plaster anymore. Now they were neon glow-in-the dark in her choice of four colours. Whatever happened to plain old white?

One more person finished their business and everyone in the line moved up one space. Well, Aahntie Boo thought to herself, at least business was good. Now she could afford to help give her daughter the wedding of her dreams. When she'd started her own therapy practice, things had gone a little slow at first. Then came the radio show and now she didn't have time to get her hair done any more, much less her nails. She'd never expected it to be such a big deal. She just wanted to help people. And there were a lot of guys out there that really needed help.

It was satisfactory work. She knew that she really did make a difference in her patient's lives. If the hets thought sex was a problem, they really ought to get to know some gays and compare notes, she thought. At least the hets had lots of television shows and movies they could study if their parents hadn't given them the birds-and-bees talk. What did the gays have? There were, what? a handful of movies with a gay theme each year compared to how many hets? They all thought that they could learn all they needed to know from gay porn. Hah! Where all the guys were buff, everyone always pulled out to come (so the camera could catch every drop) and none of the actors ever had a dick less than eight inches. Actors, my ass, she thought.

The line moved forward another person and Aahntie Boo shuffled forward leaning heavily on her cane. Two more and it was her turn. Two more and she could almost clean out her savings account and send all her hard-earned money to some guy who spoke French and promised twenty-five rooms, gardenias and quenelles for appetizers. Twelve fucking grand just to place the reservation. The whole bill would be triple that amount. Thankfully, her daughter's fiancé was helping to pick up some of the tab. What with air plane ticket and tips, it would have put a serious dent in her retirement accounts if she'd been expected to pay the whole bill. Oh, well. Hopefully her daughter was right and this would be her one and only wedding and if she wanted to do it up big time, who was Aahntie Boo to say no.

Now there was only one person between Aahntie Boo and the teller. Did they change the sheets every day in a tropical island paradise? Would there be those horrid large palmetto bugs like she'd found in the condo she'd rented in Port St. Lucie last winter? Aahntie Boo shivered in spite of herself. For a practical, pragmatic no-nonsense kind of person, she had one `fear factor' weakness – cockroaches. Ugh.

"Hit the floor. Everyone. NOW! I SAID HIT THE FLOOR!" The man who had been standing in front of her in line was now brandishing a gun and had pulled a balaclava over his face. Like she hadn't gotten a good look at him while she stood behind him for the last half hour? You'd think if someone was going to rob a bank, they wouldn't wait patiently in line.

"YOU. Bitch. I said hit the floor." Now the gun was pointed in her general direction.

Aahntie Boo was rather surprised to discover that instead of quaking in fear, she was getting pissed. Even more pissed than she already had been.

"I can't," she said firmly. "My ankle's broken."

"I don't give a good god damn about your fucking ankle, bitch. Get down now. And you," he said turning to the teller behind the counter, "Empty your till. Here." He tossed a small duffel bag onto the counter.

Aahntie Boo stood uncertainly, rooted in place. She hadn't gotten down onto the floor since she'd gotten out of the hospital. She wasn't sure exactly how to manage that between the cane, her pocketbook and the cast. The robber apparently wasn't in any mood to wait for her to figure it out. With one swift kick, he knocked her good foot out from under her, and Aahntie Boo landed on the marble floor with a whompf. That son of a bitch.

He turned back to the teller, who hadn't budged, her eyes bugging out and her mouth hanging open. "I said Put The Money In The Bag. NOW," he ordered.

From her new lower vantage point, Aahntie Boo was now able to see the rest of the bank. Apparently, at the end of the day, there were only a few people behind her in line; a young mother with a baby and an older man had hit the floor. The baby whimpered in its mother's arms, the poor old man had turned quite white and the lady at the information desk was holding her hands up like this was some kind of Wild West stick up. Well, maybe it was like that.

The thief was still brandishing his gun and waving his arms shouting obscenities and ordering the teller to clean out the next cash drawer.

Aahntie Boo was not a happy camper. All she wanted was a cashier's check and to go home and now it would be hours and hours of crime scene units, police and press. She tried to arrange herself a bit more comfortably on the floor, but the robber saw her movement and turned on her.

"Fuck it, old lady. Face down. Did you hear me? Face down!" he shouted. Aahntie Boo lowered her face to the floor. This was really awkward. Her cane had clattered to the ground when the asshole kicked her good leg and she had fallen down. Now her nose was smushed against it; its rubber tip was digging into her breast. Ample-breasted women were not built to lay face down on a hard floor.

Her concentration on her own anger and misery were interrupted by the sound of a gunshot going off, echoing around the marble walls ten fold. That crazy idiot had winged a lady walking in the door, who fell back against the glass in abject terror, leaving a streak of blood in her wake. Apparently, he liked shooting the gun, because next he aimed for the security camera in the corner and shot at it. He only winged it, too. At least it wasn't bleeding like the shoulder wound on the poor customer.

At the far corner of her peripheral vision, Aahntie Boo caught a slight movement. At eye level with the floor, she was also eye level with the blue-grey eyes topped by a dark blue cap that were peeking up from the stairwell across the room that led to the lock box vault. Oddly, the eyes looked familiar, but she certainly couldn't place them.

The teller had cleaned out the second drawer and was being ordered to go to the next. The baby had progressed from whimpering to a full- blown wail which its mother seemed powerless to quell.

"Shut that brat up," the robber cried out.

The mother tried to shush the child but, probably feeding on its mother's terror, it was not taking the hint. To be honest, Aahntie Boo almost didn't blame the robber. The kid was starting to get on Aahntie Boo's nerves, too. But it was just a baby. It didn't understand.

"I said, SHUT THAT FUCKING BRAT UP!" the robber yelled, waggling the gun in the baby's direction. The teller finished the third drawer and headed for the fourth without instruction. She seemed to be getting a bit more efficient at this robbery-assistance stuff. The robber didn't even notice.

"For FUCK'S SAKE! Make it QUIT." Now the robber was aiming the gun directly at the mother and child. When the Mother saw that she was on the business end of the gun pointed directly at her, she started crying along with her baby. Almost in sync. Another gunshot cracked and the smoked glass surrounding a cubicle behind the mother shattered, crashing loudly to the floor. The information lady at the desk ducked quickly into the keyhole, just missing the spray of shards. A second shot thumped into the service desk just over the mother's head.

The mother pulled the baby underneath her, sheltering its squirming screaming body with her own. He's gonna shoot that little baby, Aahntie Boo thought to herself, looking at the rage in the eyes that were visible through the hole in the balaclava. Whatever he's on, he's lost it.

The robber took another step in the direction of the mother. Suddenly, Aahntie Boo knew what she needed to do. The cane was no longer a necessary fashion accessory. It was a weapon; a walnut shaft with a heavy brass handle. With no thought for her own safety, Aahntie Boo grabbed the shaft of the cane right above the rubber stopper, rolled onto her side and swung with all her might, the hooked brass handle catching the robber right below the knees. The gun flew from his hands as he fell. Immediately, Aahntie Boo started to crawl toward the gun, but the robber had the same idea. It was going to be a close call.

Suddenly, of its own accord, the gun skittered away, picking up speed as it moved, until it fell over the edge of the stairwell. The robber bellowed with rage, launching himself up off the floor into a crouched run. And then he was flat on his back, as if he'd run into some kind of invisible wall, making choked, gurgling noises. When Aahntie Boo pushed herself up onto her elbows, she could see the robber was clutching his neck with both hands, his face turning red.

Looking up, Aahntie Boo saw the security guard coming up the stairs, one hand outstretched and a kind of yellowish light running from his fingertips to the robber on the floor. When the man jerked and twitched and tried to pull away, the security guard scowled in concentration, the yellow light got brighter and the thief subsided back into gasping and gurgling. With his other hand, the security guard unbuckled his belt and pulled it off, slowly approaching the writhing robber. When the guard lowered the hand pointing at the robber, the robber stopped gasping, taking deep gulping breaths, the blood in his face fading. The guard flicked his fingers in a circular motion and the robber flipped over onto his stomach and the guard quickly secured the thief's hands behind his back with the belt.

The security guard headed for the injured customer and placed his hand over the flesh wound, waving his other hand in front of the lady's face saying, "You weren't hurt all that bad. You didn't see the gun move. You didn't see him holding his neck."

The customer got a faintly dazed expression on her face and repeated, "I didn't see him hold his neck. I'm not hurt badly."

The guard moved to the next customer, the older man, and, leaning over, waved a hand in front of the man's face saying, "You didn't see the gun move. You didn't see him hold his neck. He just tripped and fell."

The old man got the same dazed expression and said "The gun didn't move. He didn't hold his neck. He just tripped and fell."

"You will get up now. You are okay," the guard intoned.

"I am okay," the old man said, accepting the guard's hand to help him up from the floor.

The guard looked next to the mother, but she was obviously occupied with her baby, sitting up and rocking back and forth, and had seen nothing of the extraordinary events of the last few moments.

A claxon started screaming as the teller's head came up over the edge of the counter where she had jumped down for safety when the robber started shooting. Obviously, she had been able to trigger the alarm. The guard looked toward her, waved his hand, and said, "Stay down." She promptly disappeared below the counter again.

Next the guard started toward Aahntie Boo. He crouched in front of her and looked hard into her eyes. Then, cupping her chin in one hand, he waved the other in front of her eyes. "The gun didn't move. He didn't hold his neck."

Aahntie Boo pulled back from the hand on her chin. "The hell it didn't!" she exclaimed. "How on earth did you do that?"

The guard looked shocked. Aahntie Boo grabbed onto his forearm and hauled herself up to a sitting position.

"Help me get up off this floor, young man," she said.

When Aahntie Boo issued an order to handsome young men, they usually obeyed. This young man was no different. He outstretched his other hand and the cane flew to him. He steadied Aahntie Boo as he helped her up, returning the cane to her once she was upright, still holding her weight in his arms.

"Thank you," she said as she dusted off her sleeve and straightened her skirt with her free hand.

The hand waved in her face again. "The gun didn't move," the guard said. "You didn't see anything."

"Would you please quit that," Aahntie Boo said querulously. "Whatever magic you think you're performing, why ever you think you need to play this hypnotizing game, you can just quit it."

Letting go of the guard, Aahntie Boo took a step backward and promptly collapsed to the floor, landing hard enough to send paralyzing pain from her bottom to her neck. The next thing she knew, she had been swept off the floor and was being carried by the security guard across the lobby. From where her head rested against the guard's shoulder, she could see a little braid behind his ear, tucked up under the cap. Looking into his face from this close vantage point where she was able to see under the bill of the blue cap, Aahntie Boo suddenly realized why the face looked familiar. Ben. Then it occurred to her that during their entire session in her office, she had never caught the last names of her two crazy monk soldiers.

Aahntie Boo made it a point to never acknowledge any of her former clients when she ran into them in public. She always assumed that no man would want to be recognized by a woman known to be a gay sex therapist in front of his friends or acquaintances. So Aahntie Boo restrained her impulse to call out his name and instead, gave him a little bit of a hug as he lowered her onto an upholstered couch in the lobby, carefully turning her sideways and lifting her feet up onto the cushions.

Within moments the place was swarming with police. A big ruckus was made when one of the officers figured out who the robber must be. He'd been on the FBI's radar for months now. This attempted heist was just like his others except that he hadn't had a chance to shoot the teller and Aahntie Boo -- he always killed the teller who filled the bag and the customers who had been around him in the line on his way out the door, presumably to avoid identification. And none of the remaining witnesses could give a clear identification since all of them had been too intimidated by the gunfire and threats to get a good look. But it fit his MO and the police were sure that they had their man.

As for the robber, he just kept mumbling on and on about some kind of invisible wall and the `wizard' who choked him from afar. The officer in charge made the comment that he couldn't believe that all the law enforcement agencies across the country hadn't been able to apprehend this blithering idiot. Must be the drugs.

Aahntie Boo watched from her perch on the sofa while the paramedics opened the blouse of the lady who had received the shoulder wound. She could hear them talking among themselves about how the wound looked like it was healing well as if it were a week old instead of less than an hour. All the victim could say was that she remembered coming in the door and it was all blank after that. If it hadn't been for the streak of fresh blood on the glass wall, they might not have believed her. A wound that deep might have caused her to lose a lot of blood. She was one lucky lady.

She also watched as the officers interviewed Ben. He never doffed his cap, but stood straight, almost as if he were at `parade rest'. He answered their questions in a very straight-forward manner. He'd been in the vault when he heard the first gun shot. He had come up the stairs and seen what was happening. As soon as the robber turned his back, he'd attacked from behind.

Oddly, the old man and the information desk lady had no recollection of events, but Ben pointed out that they had been on the floor or under the desk and it would be unlikely that they could have seen much. When at last, the police came to Aahntie Boo, she had made up her mind. Ben had only made eye contact with her one time, but that was enough. She gave them a detailed description of waiting in line for half an hour. No, the robber hadn't fidgeted. No, he hadn't had on the balaclava until he shouted at them to get down. Yes, he had fired off the gun several times. Yes, he had yelled at the mother to make the baby quit crying. No, she told them, she hadn't seen anything after she fell to the floor. She only looked up when she heard the guard knock the robber to the floor.

After the robber had been carted off, still blithering and the paramedics had taken the injured customer and the old man (apparently, he had hit his head as he fell) out to the ambulances, a paramedic approached her.

"That's a nasty sprain you have there, ma'am," he commented as he gingerly poked and prodded. Aahntie Boo winced as he wrapped the ankle in an elastic bandage. "Here, let me help you up." Well, that didn't work. Between being unable to put any weight on the ankle and the slippery cast on the other foot, Aahntie Boo wasn't going anywhere under her own steam.

"We'll need to take you to the hospital," the EMT said.

"No, you won't," Aahntie Boo insisted. "I am a doctor and I can take care of it myself." Well, that was sorta true – she was a doctor, although she hadn't practiced real medicine in two decades. She only dealt with genitals and heads, not ankles. But at this point, she just wanted to get home.

Her daughter wouldn't be back in town for another twelve hours. She couldn't drive. She couldn't even walk. Aahntie Boo was having an argument with the paramedics and was making poor headway with their logic when a familiar voice spoke up from behind the couch.

"I'll take her home," Ben offered. "We're almost done here."

As if a security guard had more authority than the EMT's, the police or even the victim, everyone accepted his statement and moved back.

"I'll be back in about fifteen minutes, ma'am. Will you be all right?"

"Yes, thank you," she answered. And then she was alone on the couch.

True to his word, in about fifteen minutes, Ben was back. This time he was pushing a wheelchair. Without even giving her a moment's breath to voice a protest, Ben picked Aahntie Boo up and settled her in the chair. For such a small man, he was remarkably strong, because Aahntie Boo wasn't exactly a feather of a woman. Then he handed Bood her pocketbook and cane.

"Wait a minute," Aahntie Boo said firmly. "I need my cashier's check."

As if it was perfectly ordinary for the bank to resume business, Ben went over to a well-dressed man and spoke softly. He returned to the wheelchair and moved Aahntie Boo in front of the counter. The man turned out to be the bank president and he personally handled her transaction, handing her the check with a smile. The irony in his voice didn't escape Aahntie Boo as he said, "We appreciate your continued business, ma'am."

Aahntie Boo smiled in return and then she was whisked away, check in hand.

Aahntie Boo expected to be taken to a car and driven home. To the contrary, after Ben had pushed her down the handicap ramp in front of the bank he leaned over to her and asked "Which way?"

"Are you planning on pushing me all the way to my house, young man?" Aahntie Boo asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Ben answered, as if this was perfectly normal.

"But it's almost a mile away," she protested.

"That's quite all right. It's a lovely evening and we could both use the fresh air," he responded. And without another word, he set off down the street. In the right direction, no less.

Aahntie Boo decided to just ride along in silence and see if the boy would actually be able to find her home without her assistance. As they neared a cross road, the chair showed no sign of slowing and she craned her neck up to tell him to make a right.

"Before or after I cross the street," he asked.

"Before," she answered. The chair made a quick right with Aahntie Boo hanging on to the handles for dear life to keep from sliding out.

"Well!" she huffed. "So how did you know which way to go at the bank?" she asked, her curiosity overcoming her.

"You kept looking in that direction," Ben answered calmly. "It was a fifty fifty choice so I took a shot."

After a pause, Aahntie Boo craned her neck up again. "How've you been, Ben?" she asked.

"Just fine," he answered softly, looking down at her and then back up at the sidewalk. "Just fine."

That seemed to say it all, so other than directions, Aahntie Boo kept her peace the rest of the way to her house. It occurred to her that she had never, ever let any of her patients know where her home was. Not only did it seem unprofessional, but after she started the radio show, she had been besieged by phone calls until she had cut off her land line. Since then she had relied on her cell phone. There were lots of wackos out there in this strange world, and she didn't want them beating a path to her doorstep.

So why was she calmly telling this particular wacko how to get there? She thought back on him and his friend, Qui. Hopefully, since her last encounter with them, it was his lover, Qui, now. It must be or Ben wouldn't have given her that sweet knowing smile when he said things were fine. The guys from outer space who were stuck on earth after they crash landed. Yeah, right. But for some stupid reason, she trusted him. He might be delusional and crazy as a bedbug, but he was also a sweet young man who had, if her eyes hadn't deceived her, done some rather remarkable things this afternoon.

Aahntie Boo shook herself out of her reverie. They were now in a neighborhood of nice upscale townhouses lining both sides of a narrow street, each with a tiny yard and all with iron fences. "It's the next one," she said, indicating which was her gate.

"May I have your keys?" Ben asked as they approached.

Aahntie Boo handed him her keys and he unlocked the gate and pushed the chair through. Aahntie Boo eyed the steps warily and sighed. They had always seemed so charming before she broke her ankle. Now they were an obstacle she had to surmount twice daily – once down and once up. They were, however, no obstacle to Ben, who leapt up onto the porch and chose another key on the ring to open Aahntie Boo's front door.

Once again, before she could protest, Aahntie Boo was lifted into the man's arms as if she were nothing more than a babe. He held her close to his chest as he carried her up the steps and into the foyer.

"In there," she waved her hand, and he carried her into her living room and set her on the overstuffed chair, then lifted both her legs and tucked an ottoman under them.

Before she could ask, Ben answered, "The remote control. It's on the table next to the chair. So this must be the chair you usually sit in."

Aahntie Boo found herself grinning. It wasn't magic. The young man was just unusually observant. Like Sherlock Holmes, she thought. He left her then, and she could hear the wheelchair being collapsed out front and then deposited into the foyer as the door was closed.

Coming back into the room, Ben said, "It belongs to the bank. I'll take it back later."

"Do you think that they would let me borrow it for a few days?" Aahntie Boo asked.

"I don't think that's going to be necessary," Ben answered.

"Well, maybe just for tonight? My daughter will be back tomorrow and she can take care of me then. I'd just like it to get myself to and from the bathroom until she gets here."

"No," Ben said, gently but firmly. "Qui will be here in a minute and he'll fix it for you. I'm not as good at healing as he is. I can handle the flesh wounds, but he's much better than I am with tendons and bones."

Oh, here we go again, Aahntie Boo thought. This telepathy stuff. Like Qui is going to home in on Ben like a beacon and follow him here.

"Let me get you some tea," Ben said straightening and heading unerringly toward the kitchen. "Two Equals and some milk, right?"

"Right," Aahntie Boo answered. She was just too tired right now to argue. He was probably going to use the phone in the kitchen, she thought. She leaned back and let herself go limp into the cushions. She'd never had to go a mile in a wheelchair before, but it was actually quite exhausting to hang on as the chair passed over the bumps and curbs. She felt like she'd worked out in the gym for two hours.

It couldn't have been but a few minutes later when there was a knock at the front door and Ben came out of the kitchen to open it. Aahntie Boo hadn't heard a car arrive. She heard voices and then Qui was in the room. He was resplendent in his dark blue uniform with brass buttons; almost military-looking with his formal bearing. He looked very much larger than she remembered, but then he was looming over her.

"Madam," he smiled broadly, "we meet again." He reached out a hand and, without realizing what she was doing, Aahntie Boo offered him hers and he bent over to brush his lips across the top. She daintily retracted her hand and realized that she was smiling as big as Qui was. She was genuinely happy to see him again.

He knelt down in front of her and started unwrapping the bandage on her ankle. "Just let me take a look at this," he said as he revealed the purplish swollen flesh. "You did take a nasty fall, didn't you?"

"He kicked me in the knee. I was standing on that leg and he just kicked it out from under me and I must have twisted it." Aahntie Boo was a little perturbed at herself for sounding whiney, but it hurt. As gentle as Qui was trying to be, it still hurt as he pushed and pulled. Why on earth was she letting this madman play with her foot, she wondered. But then she felt the warmth in her ankle and she looked down to see Qui was cradling her foot between his two hands. His eyes were closed and a look of fierce concentration was on his face. She started to speak, but a gesture from Ben, a finger to his lips, silenced her. The warmth increased. It was getting downright hot. Where his finger tips touched her, the skin prickled, almost like an itch she wanted to scratch. But she didn't move; didn't let out a peep.

Then, gradually, the warmth receded as if it flowed out of her body and back into Qui's hands. She closed her eyes; it felt like she was losing something, something precious she didn't want to let go of. But then it was gone. She looked down and, as Qui removed his hands, she saw her ankle; her normal ankle, no bruising, no swelling and no pain.

Aahntie Boo shut her mouth, realizing that her jaw had been hanging open.

"Let's see if that's better," Qui said and reached out a hand to her, smiling gently. Like a dummy, she took his hand and stood, half expecting to fall to the floor again, but unwilling to not do whatever this big man asked of her. Ben handed her the cane as Qui pulled her up and before she knew it, she was standing; a bit lopsided, but standing nonetheless.

Ben had taken off his cap and his long braid fell across his chest. "See," he said, "you don't need the wheelchair after all."

Aahntie Boo took a tentative step and the ankle held. The three of them just stood there, looking at one another; Ben with affection, Qui with the happiness that comes with success and Aahntie Boo with pleasure for the lack of pain. The trio was interrupted by a whistling from the kitchen, the tea kettle come to a boil. It was Ben who went to attend to it.

Aahntie Boo settled herself back into her chair, propping the cane against the end table. Ever the direct one, she said, "Ben says he has been fine. And you?"

"I have been fine also, ma'am."

"Still working for the bank, I see," she said, gesturing toward his uniform.

"Yes, ma'am."

The silence lengthened. Aahntie Boo was looking out the open blinds. Then, "You two are still together." It was worded as a statement but the question behind the words was obvious.

"Yes, ma'am we are together. As we shall always be."

Aahntie Boo looked directly into Qui's eyes. "That's good," she pronounced, "very good."

"Yes, ma'am." The eyes twinkled and the two smiled at one another understandingly.

Ben came into the room with a tray containing three mugs. One he handed to Aahntie Boo, who sipped the hot, soothing brew gratefully. Qui took a mug, giving the long braid a short tug. Ben settled himself on the sofa and Qui sat on the floor beside Ben, his shoulder resting against Ben's leg.

Aahntie Boo let the conversation drop. Sooner or later one of them was going to want to know exactly what she had seen and what conclusions she had come to. As curious as she was, she had learned long ago that it was best to learn from the questions people asked rather than being the one to ask the questions. Well, that usually worked with usual people. These two, however, seemed to be quite content to remain quiet. Finally, she broke the tension that was growing in the room.

"Ben, do you want to explain what happened to me today?"

It was Qui who answered, his voice measured and even. "And what might that be, ma'am?"

"Shall I start with objects flying across the floor seemingly of their own accord? Or how about a man stopped cold by thin air? Or, perhaps, we can start with people forgetting what they have seen just because Ben here told them that they didn't remember."

Qui took a sip of tea and Ben followed. "Well, madam, it's not that easy to explain."

Aahntie Boo had had just about enough of this dickering around. "Qui, I don't think I have but a few years on you, so you can stop this `madam' stuff. It just makes me feel old. Call me Boo."

Qui had the good graces to look a bit abashed.

"And you can start with the beginning. Is this some kind of magic trick? Hypnosis?"

Ben and Qui looked at one another and Aahntie Boo experienced a moment of deja vu. This was the same thing she had seen the last time she had been with these two men; a sense that they were speaking to one another without the benefit of words. Slowly, Qui nodded and Ben spoke up.

"It's the force, ma'am."

"I'm Aahntie Boo to you, young man. And what, pray tell, is the force?"

Ben nodded deferentially. "It is the energy that binds the universe. We who are force-sensitive are trained to harness its power and use it."

"To move guns and drop men in their tracks?"

"It's not that simple, ma'. . . Aahntie Boo," Ben said. "But yes, those are two of its uses."

"Humpf," Aahntie Boo puffed. "Sounds a bit hocus pocus to me."

"We are Jedi, Boo. We use the force to serve the light."

"And fixing my ankle – is that this *force*, too?"

"Yes," Qui said.

"Last time I saw you, Ben, you talked about it like it was some kind of religion." Aahntie Boo said.

"Were I to simplify it, Boo, I would call it a spiritual experience."

"A spiritual experience? Moving guns across the floor is spiritual?"

"It kept him from shooting anyone," Ben said.

Qui turned a dark look on the younger man. "Some beings, by virtue of having been born with high counts of a substance called *midichlorians* are able to feel the energy field that surrounds all of us. We can then draw that energy together. It can be used to move objects, heal injuries and, yes, to create an energy field around someone that prevents them from passing."

"It all sounds a bit too incredible," Aahntie Boo said.

Ben chose that moment to reach out a hand and point toward the end table. Aahntie Boo's mug rose gracefully and moved toward Aahntie Boo, who caught it in her hand.

"Circus tricks," she scoffed.

"We are taught not to use the force frivolously," Ben said. "But I thought maybe a demonstration would be easier than an explanation."

"Boo," Qui said softly, drawing her attention back as he leaned forward. "We also use the force to heal. It's not all-powerful, and it doesn't replace medicines and other treatment modalities. But it can enhance the body's ability to heal itself."

"Like my ankle?" Aahntie Boo asked.

"Yes."

"Geez, I wish you guys had been around when I broke the other one." Aahntie Boo was trying to sound sarcastic, but it came off sounding more wistful than she intended.

"If you would permit me," Qui said, "I would like to see if I could help you with that."

Almost as a challenge, Aahntie Boo lifted her casted foot in Qui's direction. "Help yourself," she said.

Instead of coming closer, Qui rose and started unbuttoning his shirt. Aahntie Boo started to protest, but then saw that what she had thought was a weight gain was, in fact, a bullet proof vest. The Velcro straps were pulled loose and Qui reached up and pulled a long silver baton-looking cylinder out from underneath. The cylinder leapt to life and a long green flash of light came out of it. Qui powered it down until the blade was only a few inches long.

"A vibroblade would have been easier, but this ought to work," Qui said as knelt in front of Aahntie Boo. Taking the cast into the other hand, Qui made short work of two cuts on opposite sides of the cast, which promptly fell off. Setting the cylinder aside, he began unwrapping the cotton wool and removing the stockinette.

Aahntie Boo's nose wrinkled in disgust when she saw her ankle emerge, two long, red, angry-looking scars running down either side, dry skin flaking in large patches and (oh, my) the hair, long and thin strands from knee to ankle. Aahntie Boo had trouble believing that that awful looking limb was her own leg. She was about to try to hide it, embarrassed, but Ben and Qui seemed to think nothing of its odd appearance.

Once again, Qui cradled her ankle between his two hands. Aahntie Boo sat silent, waiting for the heat. It didn't take but a few seconds, but it almost felt like a lifetime. The sense of well-being that flowed through her as the heat from Qui's hands warmed her ankle was almost euphoric. She closed her eyes and savored the sensation. As the heat began to recede, she opened her eyes and looked up. Qui's forehead was creased with his concentration. Then his face smoothed out, and he released her foot.

Aahntie Boo couldn't wait to stand up and reached out her hand for assistance. Qui hesitated a moment, looking almost pained.

"What is it?" Aahntie Boo asked taken aback, her hand hanging in the air.

"It is nothing, madam," Qui replied, almost automatically. With a quick shake of his head, he stood. "I cannot fix it properly for all the titanium, but I could merge the bone to the metal so that it would be stronger. Here," he said taking her hand, "give it a try."

Ben took her other side as Aahntie Boo stood and let her weight fall to that side. It held. It hurt, but it held. The pain was quite tolerable. After all, the muscles hadn't had to bear weight in weeks. It would take some therapy. But she could walk – without the cast and, gloriously, without the cane.

Aahntie Boo beamed up at Qui. "Bless this force of yours," she said. "It's a miracle!"

She started to walk away and Ben handed her the cane. "Take it easy," he admonished, and she accepted the advice. Within moments she was walking about, leaning lightly on the cane, more for balance than anything else.

Ben put the mugs on the tray and turned toward the kitchen. But he stopped when he saw the look on Qui's face. "Master?" He reached out a hand and touched Qui's cheek with a fingertip. Qui looked up into the younger man's face and smiled, but there was pain in the smile. Aahntie Boo noted that look and decided that maybe, just maybe, these two did, indeed, have the ability to speak to one another through some kind of telepathy. Then Ben turned toward the kitchen.

Aahntie Boo returned to her chair and lowered herself gingerly, sighing happily. "Oh, thank you, Qui. This is wonderful. I dreaded going to that wedding with a cast. Everyone else would be taking moonlight walks on the beach and I'd be stuck in a chair on the porch. Now I'm ready to swim." Aahntie Boo giggled, a happy girlish giggle. "You know what I'd like? A glass of wine. I've been taking pain medicine at night and haven't been able to have a nightcap in weeks. There's a bottle in the fridge. Would you join me?"

"With pleasure, Boo," Qui said. "Obi-Wan!"

"Yes, master," the younger man called back from the kitchen.

"Could you bring the bottle of wine from the refrigerator and a few extra glasses, please?"

"Yes, master," he called back and Aahntie Boo could hear the smile in his voice.

"Oh, be one what?" she asked Qui.

He looked puzzled.

"What is it you want him to be?" Aahntie Boo asked again.

"Oh." Qui let out a belly laugh as realization hit him. "It's his name. Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Odd name," Aahntie Boo responded. "Are you really `Qui'?"

"Qui-Gon Jinn, at your service, madam," Qui said with a chivalrous bow.

"Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn of the Jedi temple on Coruscant," Ben said, returning to the room with the wine and glasses.

Aahntie Boo chose to ignore the `temple' comment. "And you?" she asked.

"Senior Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi," he answered, mimicking Qui's bow.

"Well," Aahntie Boo said, rising, "I think I'll stick to `Ben' and `Qui'. Much easier." She headed for the door, carrying the cane. "I need to use the restroom before we get into the alcohol." She felt almost giddy with the freedom to move about her own house so easily.

Returning, she heard voices and paused outside the living room door.

"But master, should you not tell her?" she heard Ben ask in a low voice.

"It is not our place, padawan," the older man answered.

On rounding the corner, Aahntie Boo saw the younger man in Qui's embrace, his cheek against the broad shoulder. They broke apart quickly.

"Tell me what?" she asked sharply.

"Nothing, madam, it was nothing." Qui handed her a glass and held his up. "Let us toast, Boo."

"To what?"

"To one more villain off the streets and one more lovely lady restored to her feet," he answered. Ben raised his glass, too.

"I'll drink to that," Aahntie Boo said, downing her portion in one quick swallow.

As it turned out, they didn't own a car and relied on a cycle to get about. Aahntie Boo couldn't imagine what they spent their money on, since they both appeared to be well employed, but it wasn't any of her business. Ben said something about saving up for some kind of crystals. It must have something to do with their religion, she thought.

At one point, Aahntie Boo asked them if they'd taken her advice and gotten out to the movies.

"No, Boo," Qui said. "Perhaps we should have taken your advice, but we've been quite busy."

Aahntie Boo simpered a tad (she had it admit it was her one bad habit that was hardest to control). "I thought you two might be spending a lot of time at home after our session."

Ben grinned from ear to ear and Qui had the good graces to look just a little embarrassed. "It was," he said, "a very . . . educational. . .evening."

"You really must rent the tape," she said. Then, rising and going to the shelf beside her television, she picked up a VHS tape and handed the small ornately printed box to Qui. "Here, you can borrow mine," she said, pointing to the cover picture of a man kissing a lady in a red dress. "I think you'll be amazed at the resemblance."

A half hour later, the two men took leave of Aahntie Boo, declining her offer of the use of her car and pushing the wheelchair along. Tidying up before she went to bed, Aahntie Boo saw that the VHS tape had been left on the end table.

continued in part 2