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Archive: M_A, please

Pairing: None

Rating: R (adult situations)

Catagory & Warning: Chan (but not child abuse)

Feedback: Yes Please

"Hey kid!" a boy called out, waving from a lighted doorway. "Over here. You look like you could use a little luck right now."

The boy was no older than fifteen, standing of the doorway of a noisy bar. Neon flickered across his dark and handsome features. The music was louder than the shrill voices inside the place. He was smoking something that smelled sweet, aromatic, intoxicating. His clothes were skin-tight and designed to show off his assets. A shiny spangled vest hid nothing, and curve-hugging but stylish trousers meant he was above Coruscant street trash. He smiled and then he beckoned again.

Despite the chilly air, the young man wore no shirt. Maybe he simply wanted a breath of cold air. His bare smooth chest had a sheen of sweat, dancing no doubt. And probably good at it, his waist wasp-slim and his hips narrow. He looked a lot wiser than any of the sheltered youth of the Temple. He shifted his weight and tapped glowing embers onto the pavement. He drew in a deep puff of the scented smoke. Then he held out his arm, his long graceful fingers offering a little to the less fortunate boy shivering on the sidewalk.

Obi-Wan's thoughts were a jumble. Jedi didn't believe in luck. Yet, here was an offer of warmth and shelter. Maybe even a little food. The last time he'd eaten was supper the night before. He'd been so eager to complete his task that he'd skipped breakfast. Then the impossible happened. Now, salvation. Should he take a chance? Could circumstances get any worse?

The youngster walked up the stair toward the youth and his tempting sweet-smelling glowing vice. Obi-Wan reached out and took it between his lips, sucking in the smoke with a deep breath. He handed it back and broke into a fit of coughing. The older boy laughed.

"Don't smoke often, eh? That's all right. I'll make sure no one in here makes you do anything you don't want to."

"I'm lost. Can you help me?" Obi-Wan asked going straight to the point the way Master Yoda had always advised the initiates.

"Sure, come on inside. I'll get you something to drink and you can tell me what you need."

Obi-Wan nodded and followed the tall dark youth inside the sleazy establishment. The youth slapped away hands that grabbed for his firm backside. He struck a man in the face for grabbing at the child in his wake. The regulars seemed amused and even jovial for the unexpected entertainment.

"Sit here, kid," the youth said. "I'll get us something to take off the chill."

As the young man walked away toward the bar, Obi-Wan slapped his hand over his mouth stifling a gasp. The older boy wore a Padawan braid. Why was he here? Could he be on assignment? He must have sensed the mental distress of a fellow Force user. That would explain why he'd come outside and called him over. Obi-Wan released a loud sigh. He might be safe after all.

A drink appeared in front of him. It was warm cider mixed with something that burned slightly as he swallowed. In less than a minute, Obi-Wan felt dizzy and sleepy. The boy sat close to him and draped his arm over his small shoulders.

"So how did you get here, small fry?"

"Lost. I took the package and then I got on the air car but it was the wrong one. All my money was gone so I started to walk. I have no idea how to get back to the Temple. I think Master Yoda might be worried by now."

"I'm sure he is. You didn't worry though. I'll see you get back. Just drink some more. There's food coming."

One of the men in the bar approached. He was counting out credits.

"Hey Xan, how much for the kid. I think I can find a buyer for him on Tatooine or Dantooine. The Boss likes 'em fresh."

"Go sit down, Fett. He's not for sale, not yet anyway," the youth said with a dark chuckle.

Obi-Wan gulped down his cider. Inside his mind he saw a more mature version of the young man's face. There was a peculiar scar on his cheek, a circle that was not quite complete. Obi-Wan shuddered. The youth's lips seemed to be pulled back, exposing his even white teeth in a vicious snarl. Instead of Light, Darkness swirled around the image. Obi-Wan pushed the cup away.

Another man came up to their table. He placed a room key down next to Xan's hand. Xan nodded and tapped his chrono.

"Give me half an hour," he whispered, pointing in Obi-Wan's direction.

The stranger squeezed Xan's shoulder and walked back to his table. He sat down and then he ordered more to drink.

Xan tapped Obi-Wan's arm. "Hey, we'll go upstairs after we eat. You can get a little sleep while I ...uh, while I keep an appointment, see?"

Obi-Wan just stared and reached for his cup taking another sip. The neon glowed brighter in the room and the music seemed far away. Xan watched the dancers when he wasn't keeping an eye on Obi-Wan. Finally the food arrived. The thick cubes of some kind of meat were greasy and mysterious but Obi-Wan chewed and swallowed every morsel on his plate. When his stomach was full, sleep coaxed him into feeling safer. He was sure Xan, a Padawan, would get him home.

"Upstairs..." Xan was saying pulling him to his feet. "You can go to sleep up there, all right?"

"Uh huh," Obi-Wan murmured barely able to walk up the stairs on his own. Then Xan's arm was around his waist.

"Here... Lie down here."

The heavily upholstered chair smelled musty. The faint odor of age and decay, the scent of poverty, perhaps. The room glowed red from an ancient lamp near the bed. Obi-Wan felt his eyelids droop and Darkness swirled again. A thrill of fear surged like a wave inside his stomach. His hearing seemed acute. The rustle of clothing sliding to the floor, bed clothes swept back and the groan of furniture and the moan of a youth straddled by a man.

Squeezing his eyes shut did not help. Obi-Wan could not escape the tawdry scene in the room. The wanton youth enticed the man and then toyed with him. The man finally resorted to violence in a lashing display of unbridled passion. Credits changed hands. All the while, a child seemed to be asleep only a few feet away.

"Wake up, kid," Xan said.

Obi-Wan blinked like a Hoth snow owl. He rubbed his eyes and looked over at his companion who was calmly dressing.

"Time we got back to the Temple, wouldn't you say? I'm sure they'll be happy when I get back with you."

"Uh huh," Obi-Wan agreed, unsure of what else to say.

"You'll keep my little secret too, won't you? I saved your life tonight."

"I'm sure you did," Obi-Wan replied.

Obi-Wan was silent in the air car that swept them back across the planet wide city toward the imposing Jedi Temple. His eyes were wet. He wiped them on his sleeve. He wondered if he were still dreaming. He hoped he would wake up in his own bed among his young friends and not in some slave pen awaiting the auction block.

Xan's hand felt real enough dragging him up the Temple steps. The older boy led him to one of the training rooms. Xan changed into his tunics and robe.

"Our secret, kid," the older boy said smiling crookedly, almost a snarl.

"Uh, huh," Obi-Wan nodded.

Obi-Wan spent the rest of the night wishing with all his might that he might one day remove the stain of this Padawan's dishonor against the Jedi Order. How he wanted to be worthy of a Master's love and trust unlike the young man he'd met. He knew he'd have to keep his promise of silence. Yet, every time he saw Qui-Gon Jinn, a devoted and patient Master, he bit his lip until it bled.