Sloshed Padawans, Innocent Masters and A Striptease

by Raina and Leandra

Series:
1. Sloshed Masters, Innocent Padawans and Finger Food
2. Sloshed Padawans, Innocent Masters and A Striptease
3. Sloshed Masters, Sloshed Padawans and XXX

Archive: yes please, M_A; nuttersinc (elsewhere ask for distribution)

Paring: Q/O

Category: Humor, Qui/Obi

Rating: R (for Obi-Wan is just too hot to get a lower rating…)

Disclaimer: We would love to own Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn. Sadly they belong to Master George. We don't own Moulin Rouge or Velvet Goldmine either. We don't own Babybird. We don't own Satine, or Curt Wild, or Christian. Hell, we own nothing, get it?

Note: Sloshed Padawans is a sequel to "Sloshed Masters, Innocent Padawans and Finger Food." We recommend to read "Sloshed Masters" first. The sequel to "Sloshed Padawans" is in production. It will be called something along… "Sloshed Masters, Sloshed Padawans and XXX…." (We don't want to spoil you entirely, do we?)

Thanks to: Crystal for again doing such a good job in beta- reading!!!

Summary: The Title is program.

Sighing, Obi-Wan looked at the pile of reports stacked at his right side. A slightly smaller amount of reports was placed at his left side, still towering over him. He glanced across the table at Qui-Gon Jinn, who was tapping his pencil impatiently on the wooden surface of the table, contemplating what he would write down. The noise he made seemed to accomplish the beginning headache of his apprentice.

Obi-Wan sighed again and took the next file from the stack of papers. "Cultural Ceremonies and Rituals witnessed during the Mission, 2978b- f-x", it read. He rubbed his forehead absently, and then went straight to the task at hand.

Mace Windu stood in the background, observing the two of them with a raised eyebrow. It had been 5 days since Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice had returned from their latest mission to an Outer Rim world, yet not explored. He knew out of experience how much evaluation these kinds of missions needed afterwards. The sound of the tapping pencil Qui-Gon toyed with started to get on his nerves. The look of utter dismay on Obi-Wan's face made it even worse. He made a decision and stepped out of the shadows.

"Mace." Qui-Gon mumbled distracted, acknowledging the approaching of the Council member without even looking up from where he stared at the blank paper in front of him.

"Master Windu." Obi-Wan said, then scribbled something down, read it over again, wrinkled his forehead, and grabbed for the eraser.

"You two need a break." Mace stated calmly.

Two heads jerked up in unison, staring at him with what seemed undisguised fear. Qui-Gon was the first to recover from the threat Mace had offered.

"No thanks. No breaks."

Obi-Wan couldn't prevent a gasp coming from his lips. "Uhh-oohh. No breaks. That's right. We are not into...breaks." With a shudder, he remembered the last time he had been on a break with his Master. The evening had been disastrous, ending with Qui-Gon in the healers ward and Obi-Wan in long meditations on the topic of lusting after his Master.

"Of course you need a break. Look at you! Stiff and bitter faces! You need to amuse yourselves." Mace Windu shed the obvious reclines of the two men sitting at the table with a wave of his hand. Obi-Wan groaned inwardly. He had always heard how persistent Mace Windu could be, if he chose so.

"I want you to finish the reports you are currently writing. Then prepare for an evening out with me. I'm going to make you amuse yourselves, even if it will cost my seat on the Council. I can't stand those grim faces of yours. No..." he interrupted Qui-Gon before he could protest.

Qui-Gon closed his mouth again and tried to hide his anger.

"This is an order from a Council member. Don't try to sneak out of this. I will see you at 8 in my quarters." Mace said, pointing at the two of them accusingly.

Obi-Wan swallowed hard. What he wouldn't give to be allowed to stay in the library and fill out reports until doomsday.

"It will be fun. I promise." Mace continued, grinning at them devilishly.

Neither the Master nor the apprentice could hide the despair that settled upon their features.

When Master Windu retreated, Obi-Wan was sure, he heard Qui-Gon muttering "Bantha Poodoo" before he returned his attention to his reports.

"You can't be serious!" Qui-Gon groaned, pointing at the entrance of the nightclub, Mace Wind was about to enter, two desperate sour Jedi in tow.

"Excuse me, Master Windu, if I doubt your intentions, but...this is a ..." Obi-Wan gasped.

"Brothel." Mace answered seriously. He couldn't hide the mock grin when he cocked an eyebrow at the blushing young man in front of him.

"You know, young Padawan, you can not participate in certain services this nightclub provides, but I do find the atmosphere mighty inspiring." Mace grinned, than patted the young man's back.

"Inspiring." Qui-Gon snorted and caught a curious stare from his Padawan.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, and then followed the two older men inside. He tried to calm himself down, puffing air through his lips, shaking his head free from any nervousness he felt. After a long meditation, he had decided to finally do something about these disturbed feelings for his Master. He would make serious attempts at flirting with his Master, and see what reactions he could evoke from the serene man. Qui-Gon's reactions would surely show how he felt about his apprentice, for that Obi-Wan was sure. Moreover, this "nightclub" seemed to be the perfect location for making these attempts. It was for sure, inspiring.

The nightclub's interior fulfilled all the expectations its outward appearance raised. The tables and couches were covered with red velvet; the walls were covered with red plush. The whole place was filled with glitter, the lights were dim, smoke and perfume clouded the air, and sleazy didn't even begin to do the staff credit.

Qui-Gon dropped, sighing, on a red couch covered with luxurious pillows. Obi-Wan followed the example of his Master, dropping down beside him. The sacking couch threw him against Qui-Gon and he nearly landed in Qui-Gon's lap, desperately trying to avoid full body contact. Qui-Gon shut his eyes, trying to compose himself, while his Padawan struggled to crawl off him.

"Isn't it cozy?" Mace said, looking at them and grinned.

Cozy? Obi-Wan suppressed the temptation to throw a pillow at Mace Windu and seated himself a few inches away from his Master. What a good start for a seduction, he thought bitterly. Throwing himself clumsily in the arms of the man he adored at the first given possibility.

Meanwhile, Mace Windu had ordered drinks for them all from a scantly clad Twi'lek barmaid, who seemed to consist only of blue flesh, long legs, and bare breasts. The Twi'lek leaned over Mace as she put the drinks down, her tendril dangling before his face, brushing against his chest seductively.

He seems very willing to amuse himself, Qui-Gon thought, and immediately grabbed for the drink, downing it in one swift movement.

A hand landed on his arm and he looked up to gaze in the stormy eyes of his Padawan.

Master. Easy. You don't want to end up in the Healers Ward again.

Mind your language, Padawan!

Healers Ward is language?

Qui-Gon glared at him. "Coming from you, yes!"

Obi-Wan may have imagined it, but he was sure Qui-Gon was blushing. Pink really was a nice color for his Master. It made him so.... pink.

Mace coughed politely and tried to draw their attention towards him. "So, what do you want to drink?"

Obi-Wan had studied the menu thoroughly and he tried to keep the most innocent composure on his features, he could think of, which he had learned from the various pathetic life forms Qui-Gon had picked up during their time together. Maintaining an air of innocence, he suggested, "How about some Falleen Liquid Fire shots?" Qui-Gon tried not to die out of sheer embarrassment, as very vivid images of his Padawan performing a Falleen Liquid Fire Shot on him came to his inner eye.

Qui-gon cleared his throat, "Padawan, have you read how you drink these? Who did you have in mind doing this with?" He could have bit his own tongue when he realized what he had just revealed. Obi-Wan looked the picture of innocent puzzlement. "Well, you and I usually work together quite well." Qui-Gon spit out his drink and started to cough violently.

Obi-Wan patted him on the back, leaning in a little closer than strictly necessary and said "You know, Master, these drinks can't be good for your health." Qui-Gon took a deep breath, trying to get his composure back and almost flinched back from his Padawan's touch on his shoulder. Trying to hide his blush, Qui-Gon looked at the menu again. Falleen liquid fire shots involved several activities that, in his mind, almost construed foreplay. He looked at his all too innocent looking Padawan and cursed the little imp for tempting his resolve, once again. But he knew there was no way he could consume these fire shots without consuming a side-dish that consisted mainly of his Padawan.

"Maybe Master Windu will drink some Fire Shots, if you decline."

Before Mace Windu could answer, Qui-Gon dissolved into a fit of coughs again, even more violently than before. Mace raised an amused eyebrow and looked at Obi-Wan with a mock contemplative air that deflated when he saw Qui-Gon's death glare that clearly said don't even think about it if you value your health.

Mace chuckled, "I think I'll pass, Obi-Wan. I don't want to be arrested for public indecency. I have a reputation to keep, you know." Not to mention that he had no intention in getting himself skinned and quartered by a certain Jedi Master.

Qui-Gon settled back into a stern routine.

Keep this up and you'll be doing katas until doomsday

The mental message of his Master made Obi-Wan flinch, but he send back, once more veiling his words with innocence Keep what up, Master? One glance at his Master eloquently communicated to Obi-Wan the wisdom of shutting up.

"As for myself..." Qui-Gon pronounced loudly, "I'll stick with drinks that actually come in a glass thanks a lot."

Obi-Wan made a pout, but was wise enough to drop the matter. He had to think of other ways to get Qui-Gon's "hopes" up.

Qui-Gon decided to get his Padawan very drunk, very fast. He would most definitely be doing katas until doomsday.

Two hours later, Qui-Gon cursed himself for thinking that large amounts of heavy drinking would help him out of this disaster. Obi- Wan was hanging on his left shoulder, slurring unintelligible incoherent nonsense into his ear. It was driving Qui-Gon crazy. He definitely had to do something to break physical contact now, or he would just grab the young man, pull him in his lap, and ravish him in front of a senior Council member. That would certainly damage his already not too impressive reputation to previously unknown depths. Meanwhile, his Padawan was working on damaging his own reputation. Obi-Wan rubbed his cheek on Qui-Gon's arm and moaned softly. It took all of Qui-Gon's self-control to not kill Mace Windu for putting him in that position. It took even more self-control to not yank out his lightsaber and get it over and done with. He himself wasn't even sure which kind of lightsaber he referred to and if he was referring to Mace or Obi-Wan.

The situation with his Padawan was fast becoming intolerable. An idea struck him. He fished two ice-cubes out of his drink and let them fall into Obi-Wan's tunics. At the same moment, he cursed himself as images of his naked Padawan associated with ice cubes shattered his already strained composure. Anyway, the effect was immediate, and worth it.

Obi-Wan yelped and jumped out of his skin, instinctively moving away from Qui-Gon. He started to rummage in his clothes to get out the ice cubes. The small noises and moans he produced, while fidgeting around indicated to Qui-Gon that maybe this hadn't been his most brilliant idea.

Since Obi-Wan was much soberer afterwards, he did reach his goal, even with sacrifices on his part.

Obi-Wan glared at Qui-Gon, "Was that absolutely necessary?" Qui-Gon allowed himself a smug grin, gaining back some semblance of self-control now Obi-Wan was at arm's length. "I rather think it was." If looks could kill, Qui-Gon Jinn would have died a very painful death. Instead, he only cringed at the slight smile that formed on his Padawan's mouth. He was in trouble, and he was fully aware of it. Obi-Wan's smile took on a nasty manner. If you want war, you get war, he thought with a silent evil chuckle. It was time for Plan B.

Mace Windu, totally oblivious to the thoughts that were forming in Obi-Wan's head, gave the perfect excuse to start Phase One of Plan B. "Obi-Wan, don't you want to try a Hoth Ice Cocktail. I know how you young people love sticky creamy stuff." Obi-Wan grinned at the choice of words of the already rather intoxicated Council member and nodded eagerly. "I'll try one."

Qui-Gon sighed, resigned to relinquish mental peace for the rest of the evening. Obi-Wan and food were a lethal combination he was too familiar with. However, he was determined not to take his unease out on his eager and innocent Padawan and resolved to steadfastly ignore all impure thoughts on the topic. He found out, that it wasn't easy. When the ice-cocktail arrived, Obi-Wan started to ravish the delicious half liquid ice cream, repeatedly licking his spoon and his fingers in the process.

Qui-Gon did a rather good job of ignoring his Padawan completely, while he ate the ice cream and made suggestive moaning noises that obviously indicated pleasure. He never looked up and resolutely concentrated on his drink, watching the remaining ice cubes with a fascination they did not at all justify.

Obi-Wan, meanwhile, was sinking back into intoxication at the combination of ice cream and alcohol and scruple retreated together with conscious thought. He would make Qui-Gon acknowledge him, even if it was the last thing he did. Therefore, he took up his spoon, put up his most innocent air, and aimed.

The chocolate ice cream hit Qui-Gon full over the face. He cast a withering glance at his apprentice, who looked totally innocent and reasonably embarrassed.

"Oops." Obi-Wan said and tried a charming grin.

His charm went entirely unnoticed by his fuming Master. Before Qui- Gon could open his mouth to verbally punish his apprentice, Obi-Wan reached out and moved a finger through the dripping ice cream on Qui- Gon's cheek.

"Let me help you clean up, Master. I deeply apologize." With that, he put the coated finger into his mouth and licked the ice cream off.

Qui-Gon froze. He didn't dare to move more than his eyes, which were watching mesmerized, as Obi-Wan cleaned the ice-cream off his aster's face and licked his fingers clean with a suggestive lick of his lips. Qui-Gons insides were heating up to melting point. He didn't even dare to blink for fear it would disrupt his control and he would make that tongue devour things other than ice cream.

Obi-Wan hid a contended grin and made a show of licking his lips and flashing his tongue at the other man. Qui-Gon finally was successful in averting his eyes and decided not to provoke a conversation about this incident. Even if he had wanted to, the words would have been stuck in his throat. He swallowed soundly and looked at Mace for support. However, Mace just stared from one to the other and shook his head, desperately trying and failing to hide his amusement.

Qui-Gon's grip on his glass increased in strength, but otherwise, he managed to show no reaction to his wildly suggestive Padawan.

Obi-Wan was frustrated. What would it take to break through Qui-Gon's calm?

The lights in the club dimmed and the music tuned down, conversation stilled, as a very alluring female dancer was lowered down to the dance floor on a trapeze. Regular guests started to clap and chant, as the scantily and seductively clad dancer moved through them, past many tables, seemingly looking for something. She seemed to have found it as she approached the Jedi's table and lowered herself insinuatingly on a startled Obi-Wan's lap. "Jedi are glad to die for love..." she half-sang, half purred into Obi-Wan's ear, her vocalizer filling the whole nightclub with the sound of her smoky voice.

The woman was too close. It was too hot. And she smelled like a bed of flowers. He tried to loosen her grip around his neck, but when he got one look at Qui-Gon, he stopped. His Master was looking vibro-shivs at the dancer. He was clearly fuming. If he didn't know better, he would have thought Qui-Gon looked ready to draw his lightsaber. Obi-Wan grinned and gazed up at the dancer. This could be interesting. The dancer meanwhile was groping Obi-Wan suggestively, while singing, "A kiss on the hand may be quite Coruscantal, but Jedi are a girl's best friend." The rest of the lyrics were drowned out for Obi-Wan by the woman's hands roaming over his body, her lips close to his ear, and Qui-Gon's eyes boring into his with an unreadable expression. He drew her closer and let himself be groped and touched whatever part of him she could get her fingers on.

The dancer finished her song and returned all of her attention to Obi- Wan. She smiled at him, her hands exploring further. Suddenly she giggled and whispered in his ear, "Is that a lightsaber in your pocket or are you happy to see me?"

Obi-Wan had the grace to blush. A side-glance to Qui-Gon told him, he had heard it as well. The Jedi Master was crimson with undisguised anger, and Obi-Wan made a mental note to remind his Master to work a little on his shielding.

Suddenly, she descended from his lap and pulled him up. "Jedi, dance with me." she whispered seductively and gave him a smoldering glance.

Obi-Wan followed willingly with a glance back to his Master, his eyes half a challenge, half a "may I go and play", a disarming and terribly seductive combination.

Qui-Gon gripped the table in front of him. "I wonder if the little fool knows what he is throwing himself into..." he muttered between gritted teeth and received an amused glare from Mace Windu.

Still he gave Obi-Wan a resigned nod and the dancer a look that clearly said, "I'll skin you alive if you even think of touching him."

The dancer snickered and drew Obi-Wan up to a little stage. "You can sing, Jedi? I bet you have a beautiful voice."

Obi-Wan swallowed, but was far too intoxicated to put up any sort of fight. After all, he had been told in the past that his voice was not at all bad, so what harm was there in trying. Besides, Qui-Gon was rapidly losing his cool, and that alone was worth any embarrassment. Mace Windu, meanwhile was ordering another bottle of Correllian Brandy. It looked like Qui-Gon would need it. He had a rather good idea what was going on between the two of them. He had noticed the tension building between them and only now realized that each was unaware of the effect he had on the other. He shook his head. Idiots, both of them.

Qui-Gon reached for the bottle and took a deep sip of the Correllian Brandy, but spewed most of it out the moment Obi-Wan started to sing.

Because you're gorgeous
I'd do anything for you
Because you're gorgeous
I know you'll get me through

Together with the dancer, who gazed at him adoringly. Qui-Gon would be arrested for murder if thoughts were a crime. Shameless hussy of a soon-to-be-dead dancer!

Suddenly, he more felt than saw Obi-Wan's gaze on him as his Padawan sang, staring at him from across the club:

Remember that river stone you gave me
It had the Force in it
You took me to your rented speeder bike
And lectured me on the Force.

He spewed again on his drink, coughing violently and missing some more of the song.

You said my robes were sexy
You tore away my shirt

The dancer grinned and started to pull on his shirt. Obi-Wan decided he didn't have the strength to struggle against her eager hand, so he simply sang along with her actions.

You rubbed an ice cube on my chest
Snapped me until it hurt

Mace took one good look at Master and apprentice, grabbed the bottle, and started to do the only thing that would help. Drink. On the stage, the dancer had grabbed a glass with ice cubes.

Qui-Gon didn't even have enough mind left to remember how to breathe steadily as he watched the shameless hussy of a dancer perform on his apprentice, what he himself had fantasized about earlier this evening. Qui-Gon would be arrested for murder if thoughts were a crime. As the dancer started to lick the liquid off Obi-Wan's chest, he fled. It was either retreat and live, or stay and splatter the walls with the dancer's blood.

He didn't get far though, for Obi-Wan suddenly stopped his song, launched another, his voice ever so slightly, and sexily slurred by the vast amounts of alcohol he had consumed already.

Don't leave me this way
I can't survive without your sweet love
Don't leave me this way

Qui-Gon froze, and turned around slowly to meet the husky, smoky, and very blue eyes of his apprentice, who was staring at him with a very un-Padawan-like look.

All of a sudden, Qui-Gon was shaking, his hands and mouth were dry, and he was completely sober. He didn't know what to do, so he just kept on staring at his apprentice, who suddenly threw himself into another song, now he had the attention he had required.

Well if you will be my lover
I will shiver and sing
But if you won't be my master
I will do anything

Qui-Gon snapped out of his trance and did what he had wanted in the first place, he fled, leaving the vision of a swaying pelvis, naked glistening chest, and husky, veiled eyes behind.

Outside he leaned against the cool brick wall of the building and took some deep breaths. The cool air chilled him, and he reached up to wipe away the sweat that had built up on his forehead with his sleeve and a shaky hand.

Get a grip, Jinn. You can't leave the boy alone with that Sith- begotten dancer when he's that drunk. Get in there again. You have survived so far, it can't get any worse. But when he entered the bar again, after it took him 10 minutes to pull himself together, he remembered Yoda's words with a shudder, "Always worse, it can get."

He didn't dare to look up at the stage, but let himself fall into the seat he had occupied before.

"He... You missed something. I didn't know your Padawan could strip." Mace slurred and handed him the bottle of Correllian brandy. Qui-Gon took the offered bottle and drew all his Jedi serenity to state calmly: "He can?" He then lifted the bottle to his lips, gulping the contents down in one swift motion. Nonetheless, the huge amount of alcohol did nothing to get him drunk.

The sound of a well-known voice made him start. Horrified, Qui-Gon turned to the stage, where a half-dressed Obi-Wan was dancing with the equally undressed dancer, swaying his hips, swinging his shirt over his head and singing, "Do you think I'm sexy..." to a howling and whistling crowd.

His calm was strained. When he witnessed some dance girl pouring water over his Padawan, he got up and stalked towards the stage, people automatically fleeing out of his path, when the tall man with the determined, angry look on his face approached. He had to end this now, before he lost control and killed the girl before devouring Obi-Wan right here on stage.

He grabbed his unprepared dripping Padawan and pulled him off the stage,receiving a lot of boos and curses on the way back to their seats. Hesilenced the audience with a look of sheer blue steel and continued to drag Obi-Wan back to their table.

Obi-Wan, meanwhile, was borderline unconscious and clung to his Master with a drowsily satisfied air. The dampness of his Padawan's few clothes soaked into Qui-Gon's tunic, a deadly combination together with the body heat descending from his Padawan.

As if contact was actually burning him, Qui-Gon dropped Obi-Wan rather unceremoniously on the couch and sat down next to him, trying to get his wits together. He turned to Mace, only to find the Council member not where he had left him. It only took a moment to locate him, though, for the singing that came from under the table was trace enough.

He sighed deeply and shifted the heavy weight of his dripping Padawan off his chest. Qui-Gon buried his face in his hands. Great. Drunk Council member. Equally drunk and half-naked Padawan. He sighed. Force, why him? Why did things like this always happen to him?

"We are going home, Obi-Wan." he announced finally.

His apprentice didn't react, so he carefully placed him on the couch and then assisted Mace Windu. It wasn't easy getting the Council member to his feet and preventing his Padawan from slipping off the couch at the same time.

Somehow he managed it. With Mace steadying himself on one shoulder and his Padawan hanging like a dead weight on the other, he made his way out of the nightclub, swaying fiercely under the combined weight.

Mace was grumpy as he was dragged away from his amusements, so he mumbled curses under his breath, which sent Obi-Wan into giggling fits. Qui-Gon sighed, "Mace, the next time you want me to amuse myself, maybe you should just throw me into a cage with some mad Banthas. "

Healers Ward. The examination of Mace Windu proved that he had hit his head rather brutally on the table and the healers took care of a big bruise forming on his bald head. Obi-Wan's problem was simpler. Too much alcohol, too little blood. Regarding Obi-Wan, they suggested simply to put him to bed and keep him warm. The look they gave Qui-Gon made it clear that they doubted his ability to take care of his Padawan. He doubted it himself, when he looked Obi-Wan over.

Qui-Gon started to carry his apprentice to their rooms. Obi-Wan was still rather wet, and still rather half naked, so body contact wasn't exactly what Qui-Gon needed for his peace of mind right now. He clenched his teeth and dragged his Padawan, who was rapidly losing his fight with unconsciousness, to his room.

The task of undressing his Padawan was a dreadful one. He tried to keep his mind on other things, staring fascinated at the rag in front of the bed, while he peeled off the wet clothes.

Finally, Qui-Gon succeeded with getting his apprentice to bed and under some warm blankets. Obi-Wan was asleep by now. Qui-Gon just sat there, staring at him for a long time, contemplating the evening's events. They would have to talk about this in the morning.

Next morning, Obi-Wan woke with a feeling as if an entire herd of Banthas had walked over his body. He groaned.

He looked around, relieved to be in his own bed. From what he remembered of last night he might as well have been a Hutt's love slave by now, and he wouldn't be the wiser.

"You're awake, Padawan?" Qui-Gon ducked his head into his room.

Obi-Wan groaned again. "No..." he wailed.

Qui-Gon couldn't hide the grin on his face. "I expect you to be in the main rooms for breakfast in 10 minutes. "

"No... " Obi-Wan protested weakly.

When he finally convinced his head that the rooms in Jedi Temples rarely spun, he tentatively got out of bed and tried to stand. He threw some robes on, the thought of how the Sith he had undressed before going to bed giving him a splitting headache, and shuffled into the main room, where his Master already sat at the table, drinking tea.

Obi-Wan suppressed the urge to strangle his Master for looking so composed, and for sipping his tea so loudly it made Obi-Wan's head want to explode.

"Slept well?" his Master asked.

A low growl escaped Obi-Wan's throat. He took a seat, wincing when fire bolts shot through his head at lightspeed.

"I think we should talk about yesterday evening." Qui-Gon started without preparation.

"Yeste... Yesterday evening?" Obi-Wan swallowed soundly. What the Sith had happened yesterday evening?

"I think... there was a bar... I know there was alcohol, but as for the rest... For all I know we engaged in ... Tiderian Mud Wrestling." He looked up and hesitated, "Did we?"

Qui-Gon shook his head, "No, we didn't." but maybe that would be a thought for next time they wanted amusement.

Obi-Wan grinned, despite his headache, "Pity. Well, what did we do then?" Qui-Gon contemplated the question. What had they done? A few images flashed in front of his eyes: a wet, dripping Padawan, husky eyes boring into his, a velvet voice, some very unruly thoughts, and exposed body parts...

"Nothing, Padawan. We didn't do a thing."

Obi-Wan looked puzzled, then disappointed. "So the evening was a failure. Again?"

"Not exactly a failure. At least I discovered you had quite a nice singing voice."

Obi-Wan blushed with embarrassment. "I sang? Oh please, tell me I didn't!"

"Next time, Padawan, we should not obey Mace Windu. We should stay in our quarters."

Obi-Wan contemplated this for a moment, then nodded. "My thoughts exactly, Master!"

And then I'm gonna tear this calm facade down. Obi-Wan added in thoughts.

And then I'm gonna rip your clothes off. Qui-Gon thought to himself.

FIN