Fusion

by micehell

Title: Fusion
Author: micehell
Category: mostly Q/O, or at least pre-Q/O, and sometimes gen; a series of AU/AR ficlets: drama, humor, crack
Rating: NC-17 (in parts)
Warnings/Spoilers: Well, there's rape mentioned in one of them, but as it's the utterly crack one, I'm not really sure it should be warned against. *snork*
Summary: Let's play Guess The Show! Each one of these ficlets is loosely based -- either by plot, plot point, or a distinctive line from the show -- on a famous movie or TV show. The birthday girl managed to get all five of them, but how many can you spot?

A/N: Written for the everwonderful hominysnark's (Binky's!) birthday... though, okay, a little late. ;) And just as a note, in the crack one... that's me making fun, for sure, but as I'm definitely one of the army on the screen, let's just say there's no stones being tossed here. *snicker*

1.

They watched the Boss leading Jar-Jar away, false bonhomie booming back to them basso profundo as he assured Jar-Jar that everything was fine now, all the brouhaha forgotten.

Even with as much Council disapproval as they were likely to face, regardless of the fact that they'd been right, Obi-Wan realized it felt good to work with Qui-Gon again. Okay, it had been another of Qui-Gon's many strays, and Jar-Jar had been more than a little irritating, but Obi-Wan didn't think he deserved to be framed and exiled just because of that. Or at least not solely because of that. Obi-Wan sighed, thinking that as good as it was to partner with Mace, always so cool and composed, and always, always following the Code and the rule of the Council right down to the letter, it was never quite as much fun.

It was almost enough to make Obi-Wan regret his decision to bond with Mace. Almost enough to make him wish that Qui-Gon would turn to him and ask him to stay, that he would promise Obi-Wan all the things he'd promised before, the never-taken honeymoon to Alderaan, the acknowledgement that just because duty called, didn't mean that they always had to be the ones that answered…

Qui-Gon turned to him and smiled, a little wryly, and said everything that Obi-Wan should have wanted him to say instead. "You should go. We almost died here, and it was just another mess I've gotten you into. If I had just gone to the Council with my concerns, with my questions, some of this could have been avoided, not the least of which was the threat of arrest. Mace… well, he can offer you those things I never seemed able to give you."

Obi-Wan nodded. It was all true. Qui-Gon was too self-assured, always thinking he knew better than anyone else, never letting the system work for him rather than bucking against it. There were times you just had to do what was right in the face of opposition, but Qui-Gon seemed almost to create the opposition in the first place. So, really, they were both in agreement on this. Obi-Wan should go to Mace. He should try to make it up to him all the stupid things that Qui-Gon's friend Dex had inadvertently -- well, mostly inadvertently -- done to Adi in an attempt to distract her from telling the Council what they were up to. Not that the pie stain was ever going to come out, but Obi-Wan was sure that would be something they could laugh about later. Much later.

It was what he should do, it was the right thing to do, so Obi-Wan couldn't help but wonder at the hurt he felt that Qui-Gon could even think to send him to another man's arms. It was hypocritical of him, he knew, but nothing about how Qui-Gon made him feel had ever made sense.

But there was nothing for it now but to go find Mace and start his new life, away from all the trouble and chaos that seemed to be part and parcel of living with Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan grabbed his stuff, wondering how to say goodbye.

He never got the chance before Dex came rambling in, his massive frame barely fitting through the door of the Naboan embassy's dignitary room. "Hey, Qui, I did what you wanted. And I got it completely right this time. That Mace guy is sitting pretty in the Senate brig, all the records on him nice and lost, and no way is he making that transport he was supposed to leave on. I did good, right, boss?"

Qui-Gon tried to make an abort gesture to cut Dex off, but Dex had never been any good at subtle cues, not even ones that were basically a pantomime of imminent death if he didn't shut up. Qui-Gon eventually gave up, trying to give Obi-Wan his most charming smile instead, something that Obi-Wan had learned to see through when he was still only thirteen.

But even though Obi-Wan tried to keep his glare of death intact as he faced Qui-Gon, he couldn't help the little bit of hope that kept trying to peek through, and his voice sounded far more plaintive than outraged as he asked, "You weren't really going to send me away, were you?"

Qui-Gon had the grace to at least look sheepish. "For a clone like Mace? When have you ever known me to be that self-sacrificing, Obi-Wan?"

"And you want me to stay." It wasn't a question, but rather a grateful exhalation, and even though Obi-Wan knew he was being stupid, again, he didn't resist when Qui-Gon pulled him into his arms.

"It'll be different this time, Obi-Wan. I swear. We'll even go to Alderaan this time, just like a newly bonded couple should. No last minute missions, no strays of any type."

Obi-Wan had heard it before, or something like it, many times, but he didn't argue, just kissed Qui-Gon with all the passion Mace would tell him the Code didn't permit.

Dex finally caught a clue that he wasn't need anymore when Qui-Gon threw a piece of priceless Naboan art at his head, and one kiss led to another, to Obi-Wan's hands winding through Qui-Gon's hair, to Qui-Gon's hands cupping Obi-Wan's ass, all of which was good, so good… until they were interrupted by Qui-Gon's headset beeping. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth against the thought that the man hadn't even taken it off when they'd been basically just a step away from sex, but then it was pointless to quibble about Qui-Gon being Qui-Gon when he'd known what he was getting into.

It was Yoda, and even though Obi-Wan couldn't hear what was being said on that end, he could guess well enough from what Qui-Gon was saying. "Disturbance in the Force? What disturbance in the Force? If there'd been one, don't you think I would have noticed it?" There was a pause, then he shot a surreptitious look at Obi-Wan -- tunic still half hanging open, a hickey already showing on his throat --and even with all his vaunted control of the Fore, Qui-Gon's face still colored slightly. "Oh. Yes, well, so what was this disturbance in the Force, then?"

There was another pause, another look at Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan knew that this couldn't bode well. "Yes, he's with me now. No, we're going to Alderaan. I promised I'd take him. Tatooine? Why would I take him with me to Tatooine?"

This time Qui-Gon sighed, something that only Yoda and Obi-Wan seemed to bring out in him. "Yes, I remember the disturbance in the Force thing! What does it have to- Oh, well, why didn't you say so?" He bit his lip for a moment, deliberately not looking at Obi-Wan, as if he were actually still trying to make a decision here instead of tying to think of how to jolly Obi-Wan into the one he'd already made.

Obi-Wan sighed as well -- something really only Qui-Gon brought out in him -- resigned to never seeing Alderaan unless there was some kind of dire situation there. It would be just his luck that they would go, and the planet would be destroyed somehow. "When do we leave?"

Qui-Gon smiled again, bright as Tatooine 's two suns. "Okay, Master Yoda. We'll do it."

Grabbing Obi-Wan by the arm, Qui-Gon was a whirlwind of motion, getting them ready to go. "Hey, isn't Mace from Tatooine? And doesn't he still have a house there? What a coincidence. You think he'll put us up while we're there?"

/1.

2.

Mace and Qui-Gon entered the tavern and took a look around. They hadn't been sure what to expect, the message Obi-Wan had managed to get out to them being a little short on specifics, but the tavern was as run down and seedy as any either of them had ever been in, which meant it was pretty typical of what could be found here in Mos Eisley.

There were a broad range of sentient species drinking a broad range of alcohols, and there was a band playing in the corner, but they ignored everything, instead going over to the bartender, the most likely source of information in the place, to see if they could find out anything useful. The bartender just stared at them, wiping mostly clean glasses with indifferent results, not saying as word no matter what form of incentive they offered. He just laughed at them when they tried to use a little Force manipulation to get some answers, but at least he finally spoke to them. "Take a seat in the main room, near the stage. The next show's on in just a little while."

Having nothing better to do until Obi-Wan or the other knight partnered with him on this mission contacted them, they took the drinks the bartender deigned to hand them, grimacing at the roiling cloud that rose out of them, and went to sit by the stage.

They didn't have to wait long, the band leaving, curtain closing behind them, then pulling back again and a spotlight coming on to highlight… the strangest thing either of them had ever seen.

Mace turned to Qui-Gon, as if he needed verification that he was seeing what he thought he was, but all Qui-Gon could do was stare in horrified wonder at the sight of his former apprentice and Knight Bant Eeerin, dressed in matching blue gowns, bright blond wigs adorning both of their heads, and holding big blue fans that, even unfurled to their fullest, did nothing to hide how absolutely ridiculous they looked.

Unconcerned with their appearance, or just determined to grit it through, the two knights started what appeared to be a stage show, coordinated movements and horrible singing that praised and lamented the joys of being sisters, and Qui-Gon thought he saw Mace pinch himself at one point, but he couldn't bring himself to look away long enough to be sure.

When it was over, the rest of the audience gave the thunderous applause that came from being so drunk that anything seemed good, while Mace and Qui-Gon continued to sit there in bemused wonder at the now empty stage.

Mace started to say something, stopped, then started up again. "I must say that Obi-Wan has better looking legs than I'd suspected."

That broke Qui-Gon out of his daze, and he turned a warning finger on Mace. "Don't even start with me. Your former padawan didn't look any less… odd."

Mace threw up his hands in surrender, starting to laugh now that the shock was over. "I have no idea what the two of them were thinking, but then they always did egg each other on to some of the most ridiculous stunts, even when they were just initiates."

But Qui-Gon couldn't laugh, disturbed in a way he didn't understand, and he left the still laughing Mace behind as he went in search of Obi-Wan.

He found Bant instead, wearing a cloak over something green that he couldn't really see, and was very thankful that he couldn't. She was obviously excited, and totally missed his stern expression, eager to tell him everything she knew. "Bakko, the bartender, he got us the information disk we'd been looking for, did he tell you? We'd told him you were coming, and he said he'd make sure you knew what you needed to, but he has such an odd sense of humor, I wasn't sure if he meant that the way it sounded. He and Obi-Wan get along much better, and it was Obi-Wan that talked him into helping us in the first place. Of course it was Bakko who talked Obi-Wan into going ahead with tonight's show even though we already had what we needed, because he said everyone drank a lot more after one of our shows, so that's why we didn't meet you at the spaceport."

It was all the information Qui-Gon needed, and a lot more besides, and even though he was sorely tempted to go have a word with Bakko about how to pass on information, he was impatient to see Obi-Wan, though he still couldn't say why.

Bant told him their last number was in thirty minutes, then left, probably to go talk her former master's ear off now that Qui-Gon was otherwise occupied.

He found Obi-Wan in the room, putting on lipstick with all the skill of a two-year-old playing with his mother's makeup. Qui-Gon sighed, shaking his head in wonder. "What in all the nine Sith hells were you thinking?"

Obi-Wan adjusted the obviously fake breasts filling out the bust of the dress, plucking at them to make them even fuller, distractedly asking, "About what?"

"This!" Qui-Gon pointed to all of it, the rich green velvet gown, cut low over the fake décolletage, the high heels that even Obi-Wan's near perfect balance couldn't quite seem to manage. "Why would you have chosen to dress up like this? You couldn't have gotten the information any other way?"

Obi-Wan just laughed at him. "I'm sure I could have, Master, but by doing this I got Bakko on my good side, and Bakko was on Jabba's good side, or as good a side as a Hutt can have, and that got me what were looking for only a day after Bant and I got here."

He had to admit it that Obi-Wan was right, and it had been a pretty efficient use of time. Plus there'd been little danger in the plan, other than perhaps making people drink too much to overcome the sight they'd been exposed to, but Qui-Gon was still disturbed, and still not sure why. Maybe because it was a solution that he himself would never have come up with, and it was a little humbling that Obi-Wan and Bant, both still so newly knighted, their padawan haircuts weren't even grown out -- well, Obi-Wan's wasn't, at any rate -- had managed a difficult mission with such ease.

Obi-Wan could tell that something was wrong, but he apparently didn't know what it was either, turning questioning eyes to Qui-Gon, nudging gently at the bond between them, still active even after his knighting, held in place by the fact that they still worked together more often than not. "It worked out perfectly well, Qui-Gon. We chose this routine because Bakko had the props and costumes for it. He let us see a vid of a performance someone had given with them, and we just copied it. And Bant and I did okay, really, considering I was pretending to be a girl and she was pretending to be human. No one ever questioned it, and everyone applauded."

Qui-Gon didn't say what he was thinking, that no one had ever questioned it because they'd been too traumatized to talk, and he couldn't bring himself to believe it anyway. Bant, perhaps, dressed as she'd been, would have only appeared attractive to another of her species, incredibly silly-looking to human aesthetics, but Obi-Wan? He should have looked even more ridiculous, nothing feminine in his appearance, his face too strong to pass for female, his shoulders too broad. But he hadn't been, not truly, not once Qui-Gon had gotten past the surprise of it. Mace had been right when he mentioned the legs, because they'd shown to good effect in the heels, ankles almost dainty looking below the strong calves, and the long, lean lines of the thigh that would peek out as Obi-Wan's dress twirled about him.

And now, in this new dress, it was even worse. Or better, and Qui-Gon couldn't really be sure which. But there was something about the way that green velvet shone against all that pale skin, about the way the dress hugged the slim hips, the strong legs, that made Qui-Gon want to do things they really shouldn't be doing here, now, or ever, really. Not on a mission, and certainly not with his apprentice.

Obi-Wan, always far more perceptive about these things than Qui-Gon, figured it out first. He also figured out something that Qui-Gon seemed to forget, his voice gone husky with the need shining in his eyes as he said, "I'm not your apprentice anymore. I'm not a virgin. I'm certainly not averse to you, and never have been. What I am is tired of waiting for you to figure it out. I'm right here, Qui-Gon, where I've been for years. This is the first time since I've been knighted that I've worked with anyone else, and that lack of other partners wasn't just coincidence. It was because I requested it. Because I asked the Council if we could work together as often as possible."

Impatience and arousal heightened Obi-Wan's color, had him breathing faster, setting the padding on his chest to quivering, and Qui-Gon couldn't help but touch it, to run broad hands underneath it to the flatter chest beneath, the hard nipple that tightened further as his fingers brushed against it. And even though he'd obviously been living in denial for years, and was only clued in now because he'd had to look at Obi-Wan with new eyes -- and a kink he'd never suspected he had -- all Qui-Gon said was, "I'm tired of waiting as well."

From there it was like they both lost what little control they had, Obi-Wan's eager hands freeing his cock from his leggings, eager fingers mapping it out without even bothering with the rest of his clothes, Qui-Gon pushing Obi-Wan back onto the dressing room table, pushing that green velvet up those strong legs.

Obi-Wan wore nothing underneath the dress, and he seemed offended at Qui-Gon's questioning look. "Underwear would ruin the line of the dress," he said with the exasperated, if tacit how could you not know that? still sounding clearly, but Qui-Gon was too busy taking advantage of that lack of clothing to really care. The green velvet bunched under his fingers as held onto Obi-Wan's hips, holding them still against short, hard thrusts that wanted to send them both skittering across the slick surface of the table. It was fast and rough, and both of them would be a little sore afterwards, but at the moment there was nothing but the feel of Obi-Wan beneath him, Obi-Wan tight around him, the green velvet an extra bit of friction, caught around two of his fingers even as his hand worked Obi-Wan to the same edge that Qui-Gon had already fallen over.

Afterwards, Obi-Wan lay still under him, body loose with post-coital glow, the green velvet still hiked up around his waist, both cloth and wearer looking thoroughly debauched. If Qui-Gon hadn't been closer to middle-age than he wanted to think about, just looking at Obi-Wan would have had him hard again. As it was, he filed the memory away for later, just in case the Council had any more separate missions for them to do, though Qui-Gon figured he'd have a little talk with them about that himself.

Not wanting to move, but knowing their half-hour was almost up, he said, "That dress is stained, and I'm not sure those wrinkles will ever come out. I'd say it's probably ruined." There would probably be a riot if Obi-Wan went out on the stage looking as he did now.

"Don't worry, we have other costumes back here. Bant won't mind changing."

Qui-Gon nodded, almost wishing Obi-Wan had offered not to do the last show, selfishly wanting to keep anyone else from maybe seeing what he had. But more than that, he found himself mourning the passing of the green velvet, having grown very fond of it.

But Obi-Wan, after twelve years as his apprentice, and six months as his partner, figured that out as well, and he smiled up at Qui-Gon with all the happiness of a man who'd just been well-fucked. "Don't worry, Qui-Gon. There's still the one Bant's wearing."

/2.

3.

The young man looked at him, a world of faith and innocence beneath that slightly hesitant exterior. "Are you a forgotten man?"

He'd seen the kids running around the park and the nearby market place, laughing and calling to each other under the cover of watchful adult eyes, the brown robes of their minders a warning, at least to those here on Coruscant, that to mess with these children would be an offense not likely taken. One of those minders gave Qui-Gon a quickly dismissive look, not registering him as a threat. Or as an acquaintance. It appeared he was a forgotten man. Forgotten by his old colleagues, at least.

Qui-Gon laughed at himself over that bitter thought. It wasn't like it their fault. They'd tried to help him, Yoda hounding him for years after he'd left, even Mace sending him messages regardless of the lack of response, all of them trying to keep him in the fold, in their hearts, however they could. But he hadn't been able to face them anymore. Not after Xanatos. Not after he'd failed so badly.

And now the younger generation had forgotten him altogether, not even to recognize him for what he'd been.

He had waited too long to answer, and the child started rattling off information that Qui-Gon hadn't even thought of asking for. "It's just that me and my friends, Bant and Garen and Reeft, we're on a scavenger hunt. Well, actually most of the initiates are on it, but we're working together, you see. And we have everything on the list except a forgotten man. Not that it would be all that bad if we couldn't find one, because it would be bad for someone to be forgotten, wouldn't it? But if Bruck and his team win, then they'll lord it over us for absolute weeks, and he's already bad enough, do you see?"

The diatribe was amusing, coming as it did from the rather stately accent the boy had, but Qui-Gon did see, remembering what it was like to be an initiate. Being taught that you shouldn't hold onto grudges or anger, and yet always coming up against someone who made that more difficult than it should be.

He also saw that he was making the boy nervous in some way, and not just by his silence. But it wasn't until the boy started walking away, a sad little wave his goodbye and something deeper than just a little disappointment in his eyes, that Qui-Gon figured it out. It was somewhat humbling that the boy had caught on before him, but then while all those years out in the Outer Rim had done wonders for Qui-Gon's sense of the Living Force in the world around him, it hadn't done much for his sense of dealing with the other sentients who populated it. Especially not if he could miss the unasked for, but rapidly forming bond between him and the still questioning eyes in front of him.

"Initiate…," Qui-Gon trailed off, realizing he already knew a wealth of things about this boy, not the least of which was his future, but he still didn't know his name.

The boy turned back, his face struggling for Jedi calm even as a hopeful smile started to spread across it. "Kenobi, Ser. Obi-Wan Kenobi."

He'd have to talk to Obi-Wan about sharing information like that with strangers. But then he'd have to talk to Obi-Wan about a lot of things, along with Yoda and Mace. He'd be talking to more people in the next day than he'd talked to in the last ten years, probably, but in the meantime he just returned Obi-Wan's smile and nodded. "I am a forgotten man, Initiate Kenobi. No one around here seems to remember me at all."

Obi-Wan tilted his head, a little bemused by the statement. "What's your name?"

"Qui-Gon Jinn. I used to live here."

It was a lot more complicated than that, of course, but then Obi-Wan didn't need to know that, or seem to care, anyway, the hopeful smile blossoming into full welcome. "Well, I know your name now, Master, so I guess you're not forgotten anymore."

Qui-Gon didn't bother correcting him on the title, Xanatos and ten years on the Outer Rim having taught him the futility of fighting some destinies. Instead, he waved Obi-Wan on a course back to his friends, walking beside him as he leaned closer and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "Well, why don't we keep that last part to ourselves, at least until you win the hunt, okay? Though you mustn't use your victory to lord it over Bruck in return."

Grabbing Qui-Gon's hand to drag him along more quickly, Obi-Wan accepted the stricture without any question of Qui-Gon's right to give it, still running ahead of Qui-Gon in his understanding of what was between them even as he literally ran before him to his waiting friends, his, "Yes, Master," a promise of what was to come.

/3.

4.

Obi-Wan trembled in Qui-Gon's arms, taking comfort in the warmth and strength surrounding him. "I know we aren't the only two Jedi who instantaneously formed a bond, stronger than those that other Jedi have, becoming teacher and student, friend and lover, only for me to be repeatedly kidnapped and raped, over and over, in myriad ways, by men with enormous cocks and aliens with tentacles, but always to wind up with your saving me, and together we prevail and find true love again through all the pain… until it happens the next time."

Qui-Gon held him tightly, relishing the feel of that lithe body in his arms, safe again. "I know, it all seems like such a bad movie."

"Or bad fanfic."

They laughed at that, but couldn't help nervously glancing around, the feeling that someone was watching them, orchestrating their moves, almost overwhelming. But the only one around was a seemingly harmless-looking, slightly round, bespectacled man with graying hair standing in front of a huge screen that appeared to be filled with a small army of women of all ages and species, who were all apparently watching them raptly. But the man just seemed startled by their scrutiny, and shrugged innocently at them. The women all suddenly had something else to do, nails that needed tending, floors and ceilings that need to be looked at, some of them whistling tuneless ditties, all of their attention totally not on the suspicious men.

The two Jedi looked at them all for a moment, then turned back to each other, shaking their heads. "Can't be."

They kissed, but the moment was broken as a hover van, Force dampener mounted on the front, and full of men whose tight pants were strained by their incredibly large cocks, side by side with any number of heavily-tentacled aliens, pulled up, grabbing Obi-Wan before either of them had a chance to react, the way their hands gripped him making their intentions clear.

Qui-Gon only had time to hear Obi-Wan scream, "Damn it, I'm still sore from last time!" before the van pulled away, leaving him to run helplessly after it, hoping that the exceptional bond he had with Obi-Wan would be enough to find him again, even with the Force dampener muting its siren call, and hoping desperately that his padawan would escape the fate that had befell him so many times before.

/4.

5.

The Code forbade this. It was one of the most serious breaches of it, in fact, warned against first and foremost whenever someone took an apprentice, even if they'd had one before. And as much as Qui-Gon was a bit of a maverick, it was one rule he'd never broken.

But things had been so close, both of them nearly dying, and the argument that has rose between them had nearly sundered their relationship as irrevocably. But through all of that, Obi-Wan was still his apprentice. Still his responsibility.

Still his.

Qui-Gon tried to object, but soft lips claimed his, silencing him as firmly as any gag. The brush of warm hands against his arms were iron bands that kept him from fleeing to a saner place. The thought of walking away from Obi-Wan, eyes wide and full of wanting him, loving him, was more than Qui-Gon could do.

And it was wrong, so wrong, the way Obi-Wan opened up like a book to his touch, pale and soft, with so few years written on him, but almost half of them bearing Qui-Gon's mark. He let lips and teeth and trembling hands leave more marks, wrote himself indelibly into Obi-Wan's life, as master, as friend, as his first, slowly sinking down into a heat so welcoming Qui-Gon couldn't imagine it as anything but good.

The pain came later. It woke him, burning through him in the not-full dark of a Coruscant morning, Obi-Wan beside him, deeply asleep after days of hard mission, and a night of hard sex. He didn't know why, but he was reluctant to wake Obi-Wan, something in him telling him this wasn't a pain to see a Healer about.

He staggered out of the bed, out of their quarters, winding up on his hands and knees in the corridor, panting through the pain, slowly becoming aware of why the Code forbade what they'd done. He moaned with the pain and laughed at it, understanding everything now.

But he wasn't alone in the corridor, the Force working in its usual strange way, a familiar blond head bobbing down into his vision as the pain finally ebbed, asking, "Do you need any help, Master Qui-Gon, sir? Should I call for one of the Healers?"

Qui-Gon stood up abruptly, shaking off all the pain as easily as he breathed, new power running through him. It was that power that had him looking at the boy with new eyes, too. He studied him intently, but only said, "No. The pain's gone now."

The boy nodded, a little nervous with the scrutiny, but he turned away, meaning to go, when Qui-Gon called him back. "Anakin… I've been meaning to talk to you. You remember what the Council said about not training you?"

At Anakin's miserable nod, Qui-Gon smiled, the expression doing nothing to dispel the sense of otherness emanating from him. "Well, I've decided they're wrong. You do need to be trained. You are the Chosen One, after all. My chosen one, at the very least."

Anakin's face was torn between delight and confusion. "But what about Padawan Obi-Wan? I thought you were only allowed to have one at a time?"

Qui-Gon waved a dismissive hand. "His trials will be soon. He'll pass, that I've seen."

The happiness won out on Anakin's face for a moment, only to dim again. "But even when he's a knight, he agreed with the Council. Won't he mind that you're doing it anyway?"

Qui-Gon's smile grew bigger even as the air seemed to swirl darker around them. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Yet."

/5.
/game