TPM Snippet 4: Padawaned
by Ladonna King (lking@agora.rdrop.com)
ARCHIVE: M_A if you want it, and
http://www.slashcity.com/ciceqi/SWS4.htm
PAIRING: Q/O slash
CATEGORY: Humor/Parody
RATING: G
DISCLAIMER: You ain't nothin but a Lucas / Filmin all the time
/ You ain't nothing but a Lucas / Filmin all the time / You
ain't never slashed a Jedi / And you ain't no friend of mine.
WARNINGS: Only if bad humor requires a warning...
SPOILERS: None. Takes place preTPM.
NOTES: For Judy's "padawaned as slang" challenge. Apologies to
Robert Johnson, Taj Mahal, and Blind Willie McTell for the
terrible things I did to their songs...(notes for those at the
end).
SUMMARY: Obi-Wan discovers a few new bits of slang to add to
his vocabulary.
FEEDBACK: Would make me break out the James Brown.
Nodding to the bartender as he accepted another drink, Obi-Wan
tried to look as inconspicuous as possible, keeping his ears
open and his mouth shut. It was hard to make out the
conversations around him over the soulful shudder of the
Corellian blues band up on stage, but every once in a while
he'd catch a name, a place, a snippet of hushed transaction.
Taking a long, slow drink, Obi-Wan leaned sideways against the
counter as he tapped his foot in time to the music, his
calculatedly sleepy eyes tracking the room like a hawk.
The pair of Wookies at the table by the furthest corner were
muscle, but Obi-Wan didn't know whose. All they did was drink
and bark out the occasional terse comment, their sharp growls
usually answered by another round of drinks from a harried
server. The three pairs of humanoids spaced out along the
opposite wall were smugglers, looking for cargo or buyers--two
pairs were confident, one nervous. Obi-Wan was watching the
nervous one, more out of habit than anything else. They weren't
here for smugglers. He and his Master were on the trail of a
bounty hunter who, it was reported, had begun to dip into
abduction as a sideline, to the tune of the royal prince of
Karda-Gaan IV. The hunter himself never came here--but the
man's newest bedmate did, and it looked like tonight was girls'
night out.
Sighing, Obi-Wan let his chin drop to his chest, contemplating
the contents of his glass. He didn't know how many more of
these he'd be able to drink and still function effectively in a
fight, but he couldn't sit here and not drink, either.
Not in this kind of bar, parked solidly in the lowest levels of
Coruscant--but he'd already had to fend off half a dozen
indecent proposals, and the night was still young. If that
Sith-cursed band wasn't so damned loud so he could hear
better...
Sighing again, Obi-Wan took another sip, torn between moodiness
and resignation. Obi-Wan had no doubt that the volume of the
music was deliberate, for the peace of mind of the club's
clientele. At least they were good, although he'd probably
never understand where some of the more colorful bits of
cultural slang had come from...
"Ain't nobody ever gonna steal my gimmer stick
Ain't nobody ever gonna steal my gimmer stick
Well you know I'm doing some padawaning on a woman, and she--
She keep me satisfied deep down in my soul..."
Frowning to himself, Obi-Wan blinked once before shaking his
head, downing the rest of his glass quickly. Which was probably
a mistake...but there was no way he could have heard
what he thought he had. Well...he could see how the, ah, gimmer
stick might have been coined...maybe. But...
Obi-Wan motioned the bartender over again, feeling the braid
tucked into his shirt like a brand against his skin. No
way had he heard 'padawan' used...as a verb. No.
One more drink, and he slid carefully off his stool, ambling
nonchalantly towards a table a little closer to the private
booth where his target sat--a sweet-faced boy surrounded by a
circle of laughing, teasing youths, thieves and prostitutes to
a man. "No, you're kidding," one of the boy's friends grinned
in sly anticipation, scenting some juicy piece of gossip in the
boyfriend's shameless bragging. "He used what?"
"Honest truth," the boyfriend chuckled easily. "We decided we
wanted to try something new, so when we drank all the brandy,
he padawaned me with the--"
Obi-Wan missed hearing what the instrument of choice was, only
seven years of intensive training under the best Master in the
Temple keeping him from whipping around in utter shock. Had
someone slipped something into his drink? He knew he
hadn't just imagined hearing--
"He padawaned you with the what?" half the table yelled
in chorus, leaving no doubt in Obi-Wan's mind of what he was
hearing. Padawaned? How...what...Padawan? As a verb. And
for...that.
Why?
"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," the boyfriend grinned
cheekily as Obi-Wan noticed a feeling of rather acute distress
being projected at him from across the club. There was no
way his Master had missed hearing that gleeful
shout...and something told Obi-Wan that his Master was
not looking forward to explaining this one to
his...Padawan. "Because believe you me, that man can padawan
like a dream, I don't care what he uses for a 'saber!"
//Oh. Dear. Force.// Obi-Wan was on the verge of blushing
furiously and laughing himself right under the table, but he
wasn't about to let on. Not just yet. Padawan. It seemed like
the lower levels had a rather...unique idea of just what the
Master-Padawan relationship entailed. Not that it wasn't a
crying shame they were completely, irrefutably wrong...he'd
wanted his Master for years, after all, but Qui-Gon's
friendship and good opinion meant far more to him. It was one
of his most cherished dreams, approaching his Master after he
was Knighted, after he'd proved himself a mature, capable
individual perhaps worthy of more than a Master's admiration.
Still...
Watching Qui-Gon squirm over this one was going to be the most
fun he'd had in ages.
The table he was watching suddenly started clapping, and
Obi-Wan realized the song had ended, another one--obviously a
favorite--beginning with a rippling slide riff played with a
tentacle and a six-fingered hand. "Jinnson!" the boyfriend
whooped as he applauded, and the musician twitched a cocky grin
their way as he leaned into the microphone.
"I'm gon' get up in the mornin'," Jinnson crooned,
"I believe I'll dust my droid
I'm gon' get up in the mornin'
I believe I'll dust my droid
Boyfriend, the man you've been padawanin'
Boyfriend, he can have my braid..."
Hard-pressed not to react to the feeling of mortified
desperation coming from his Master, Obi-Wan turned in his seat
as the booth behind him erupted into cheers, much to the
disgust of the Wookies. The boyfriend, catching Obi-Wan's eye,
winked with a cocked brow, and Obi-Wan gave a long, slow smile
in return when he saw the considering gleam in the boy's eyes.
Seconds later, he had a place at the booth, buying a round for
his new friends.
"Well, mine likes me to call him 'Master,'" Obi-Wan was saying
with a shrug when the next round of drinks arrived, and Auver,
the boyfriend, was laughing so hard he was on the verge of
sliding right out of his seat.
"Don't you just love that?" one of Auver's friends smirked.
"More money than brains--mine lets me call his 'saber a Mace,
and doesn't have the faintest idea what I'm talking
about..."
"No!" someone else gasped in amused horror. "You mean it's
been..."
"Yep. He's some sort of religious fanatic--I guess they
all snip off their sithrobes, either when they're born
or when they convert to the faith. I think mine was a
convert..."
"Owww!" the table winced as one, many crossing their legs,
though Obi-Wan's grimace was mostly from trying to hold his
screams of laughter inside. This just kept getting better and
better--though he would never be able to look Mace Windu
in the eye again...
"It's no loss," the boy shrugged with a snicker. "Trust me,
he's rich as a Hutt, but he's no Qui-Gon Jinn."
Several hands appeared magically to pound Obi-Wan on the back
as he choked on his whiskey, but the laughter was friendly as
he clapped one hand over his mouth, trying not to spray the
fiery stuff everywhere. "Not while we're drinking!" another boy
protested, wiping tears from his eyes.
"Right, right..." a dark-haired boy in the corner grinned. "But
speaking of jinns--where is your master, Auver? I mean,
you'd think that with a obi like you in his bed, he'd be home
more often..."
Jedi discipline alone kept Obi-Wan's mind on business as Auver
replied, too stunned and embarrassed to do more than listen. An
obi? //Excuse me?// "Oh, he's on his way back
from dropping something off on Tattooine," Auver shrugged
unconcernedly. "He'll be back by dawn, and he's all but
promised me a trip to the council chambers the minute he
gets back..."
A tall shadow swept down upon them, Qui-Gon Jinn, resplendent
in black leather and Corellian silk. "Ben," Qui-Gon purred
silkily, "there you are. The merchandise is taken care of, if
you're ready to go?"
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan replied with a long, slow smile, enough
heat in his eyes to redouble the lust of those that could see
him, even in the wake of Qui-Gon's entrance. "I'm right behind
you..."
"Very good," Qui-Gon nodded once, stalking away without looking
back.
"Psst!" one of the boys nudged him in the side, giving him an
aggrieved look. "You didn't tell us your master was an
assassin!"
"Yeah," Auver pouted good-naturedly. "I would've picked your
brain for tips! Mine's just a tag-and-bagger, even if he can
padawan with the best of them..."
//Merchandise,// Obi-Wan tagged dutifully in his head,
adding it to the long list of absolutely vital slang he'd
learned today. Dragging explanations out of his Master for some
of them was going to be a scream... "Sorry, guys: he'd...send
me to Bandomeer," he shrugged in a moment of inspiration, "if
he knew I'd talked shop with anyone..."
"Ooooh," the table chorused sympathetically, nodding as one.
"You watch yourself, then, Ben--maybe we'll see you around?"
Auver asked with a hopeful grin.
"Sure," Obi-Wan smiled easily. "I bet that could be arranged.
Take care..."
"Yeah--may the Force be with you," Auver purred lasciviously,
casting a hungry look in the direction Qui-Gon had gone.
"What a jinn..."
"Yeah," Obi-Wan chuckled, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Somehow,
he doubted his Master would have been that embarrassed if there
hadn't been something there he didn't want Obi-Wan to
know...and Qui-Gon's eyes when Obi-Wan had gave him the Look...
Suddenly, the years between now and his Knighting looked a lot
more promising. "Yeah," he repeated with a wicked grin, "and he
padawans like a dream..."
The table was still laughing as he stalked after his Master,
giving a nod to the bartender and the blues singer on stage.
Jinnson winked back as Obi-Wan passed, and the last thing he
heard on his way out the door was the man's mellow voice,
sending him off to learn something...new from his venerable
Master.
"Woke up this mornin...had them Braid-Boy blues...
Said I woke up this mornin...had them Braid-Boy blues...
Look over on the corner--looks like my Master had 'em too..."
Qui-Gon hadn't waited for him at the door of the club, but his
Master wasn't walking very fast, either. Obi-Wan was able to
catch up without really stretching his legs, and they fell in
together naturally as they took a circuitous route back to
their rented room, one procured just for this occasion. Auver
had said his mas--his boyfriend was dropping something
off on Tattooine, after all...unless that was more slang, it
sounded like the Hutts of that world has just been handed the
Crown Prince of Karda-Gaan IV. On the other hand, all they had
to do was follow Auver and the boy would lead them right to
his--
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon cleared his throat quietly as the crowds
parted for them, the man's dangerous walk gaining better
results than it ever had in Jedi robes.
"Yes, ma-Master?" It was no use--just thinking about the
hidden meanings of that innocuous title was nearly enough to
send Obi-Wan into peals of shameful mirth.
"Something amuses you, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked with deceptive
mildness, and Obi-Wan consciously blanked his face into
something appropriately innocent and studious, though it took a
judicious application of the Force to manage it.
"No, Master," he answered back calmly, "just a passing thought.
If my surprise at the...intricacies of colloquial speech was
unseemly, I apologize..." He knew Qui-Gon was nearly wild with
apprehensive curiosity, but considering just how much
lower-level slang his Master did know...and had
kept from him, at that... No, this coy approach was
entirely deserved. Entirely.
Qui-Gon was silent for a few paces more as they neared their
place of lodging, the bustle of the infamous Grey Quarter
swirling around them. Sweeping through the front door, Qui-Gon
glared at the being behind the main desk, obviously deciding to
play his role of assassin to the hilt. "Perhaps," Qui-Gon said
after a moment, "you'd care to report your findings on
this...colloquial speech, Padawan?"
Obi-Wan grinned to himself. Report indeed. "Well, Master, it
was actually quite educational. For instance, I learned that in
the hierarchy of the young...shall we say...Companion's Guild?
The group that caters to the likes of our bounty hunter is
actually an offshoot of the Thieves Guild, rather than the
Pleasure Worker's Union--"
"Padawan," Qui-Gon interrupted him patiently as they entered a
lift, and Obi-Wan stifled a smile.
"Sorry, Master. Well, companions to bounty hunters--they call
them 'tag-and-baggers,' actually--are in a less prestigious
position than the ones who are with assassins. Your mention of
'merchandise' gained us this fascinating little insight..."
"I see," Qui-Gon nodded slowly, showing no sign that he knew
his Padawan's innocent stalling stemmed from wicked intent.
"That can't be the only thing you learned..." Qui-Gon fished as
the lift doors opened, walking towards their rooms as if
completely uninterested in the conversation.
"No," Obi-Wan agreed blithely, "far from it. Apparently, the
followers of certain religious sects--the ones who practice
routine circumcision as part of their faith--enjoy a special
distinction amongst the residents of the lower levels...since
their sexual equipment shares a name with Master Mace Windu..."
Qui-Gon winced slightly as Obi-Wan glanced up to gauge the
man's reaction, but it almost looked like the man was
smiling... "That's...very interesting, Padawan..."
"Oh, but there's more," Obi-Wan offered with relish, warming to
the topic. "Perhaps you weren't aware of this, but it seems
'master' is another word for...hmm...I believe the term is
'sugar daddy?' I have to admit," he deadpanned as Qui-Gon
winced again, "that took me aback...but not as badly as hearing
'Padawan' used as a verb. You probably wouldn't be familiar
with this one...master...perhaps an example? As in, 'I'd
like nothing better than to padawan my jinn of a master if he'd
ever yoda up to how I feel about him...'"
Qui-Gon had opened the door to their rooms, but now he stood
just inside, staring in shock as Obi-Wan swept past him, the
door hissing shut in his wake. "Yoda?" Qui-Gon asked faintly,
his voice far from steady.
"To wise up, to make a stunning revelation, or to hump the legs
of younger men in poorly-lit bars," Obi-Wan defined crisply,
turning to face his Master with his chin raised, eyes filled
with certainty. "Myself, I'd be curious to know how 'jinn'
became synonymous with delectable, well-hung men and splendid
lovers. Not that two out of three aren't readily apparent," he
added, letting his eyes sweep up and down his Master's body,
"but it's that third that makes me wonder. I mean, if you'd
wanted a padawan..."
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon swallowed slowly, his level, almost pleading
stare unwavering.
"Yes, Master?"
"I'm more than just a...'master,'" Qui-Gon insisted sternly.
"And you...you are far more than just a Padawan. In all
respects."
Obi-Wan couldn't help it; his smile escaped him despite his
best intentions of remaining serious, and he knew it had lit up
his face embarrassingly. "Yes, Master..." he murmured as
Qui-Gon's lips twitched, his Master taking a slow, deliberate
step forward.
"Of course," Qui-Gon chuckled, "I too have found myself
pondering something of late..."
"And what would that be, Master?" Obi-Wan grinned confidently
up at the other man, the sudden heat between them electrifying.
"The true meaning of "obi," Obi-Wan... A beautiful young man of
many skills--they're not wrong there. But how, precisely, did
it also come to mean 'wanton pleasure boy' and 'one whose bed
should be registered as a place of worship?'"
Not having heard those interpretations, Obi-Wan could only
laugh. "Honestly, Master, I have no idea--but since the rumors
are there...perhaps we should investigate possible sources?"
"That would be lovely," Qui-Gon smiled serenely, closing the
gap between them to cup Obi-Wan's face in his hands.
"Oh no, Master," Obi-Wan grinned up at him with a
conspiratorial air. "It'll be jedirific. And that's a promise."
end
"Jellyroll" - Taj Mahal
"Ain't nobody ever gonna steal my jellyroll
Ain't nobody ever gonna steal my jellyroll
Well you know I'm doing some lovin on a woman, and she--
She keep me satisfied deep down in my soul..."
"Dust My Broom" - Robert Johnson
"I'm gon' get up in the mornin'
I believe I'll dust my broom
Girlfriend, the black man you've been lovin
Girlfriend, can get my room..."
"Statesborough Blues" - Blind Willie McTell
"Woke up this mornin, had them Statesborough Blues
Look over on the corner there, looks like grandma and grandpa had
them too"
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