This has been a month or so in the works, and I'm truly ecstatic that it's finally finished and out of my head. Mucho appreciation to Jude Watson for her contributions to the "Star Wars" universe, some of which I have used here for my own purposes. Creative liberties aside, however, if you're not familiar with her work, I think you'll still be able to read and (hopefully) enjoy this. (Seriously, I sincerely hope it doesn't get passed over because you're not familiar with the EU; previous knowledge truly isn't necessary in this case.)
Summary: Obi-Wan has a problem; Anakin has a question; and Madam Nu just has the goods. Eventual Obi-Wan/Anakin. Rated M for silly porno vid descriptions (did I mention the creative liberties?).
The First Step to Acceptance
The tiny bell hanging from the top of the door clanged, signaling a visitor, but Jocasta Nu did not bother even glancing up. It was, she knew from the time, a regular customer.
"Master Kenobi," she greeted finally, when the slight man had reached the circulation desk. The Temple Archives were filled with various and sundry resources, information on pretty much anything one could deign to imagine wanting to know. But Obi-Wan Kenobi only ever stopped by for one particular reason these days.
"Hello," he said faintly, eyes darting about. Madam Nu was surprised that he could find anything to be nervous about, considering how often he'd been coming here to satisfy what she could only think of as a raging addiction, but she never openly questioned it. There were some things even she wished not to know.
"Back again, I see," she noted aloud, face turned downward to hide a small smile. She took the proffered stack of holovid cases that Obi-Wan fairly shoved onto the counter, taking her time checking them back into the Archives. Obi-Wan looked around again, as though he expected a bantha to jump out at him from behind one of the tall shelves at any moment. It was painfully obvious how embarrassed his little habit made him; and while she could understand somewhat the origins of his attachment to such a debauched hobby he had, after all, suffered the rather traumatic loss of his Master (and companion for years) as essentially his supplier, Madam Nu could not help but goad him just a little.
"How did you like 'Padawan Punishment 5'?" she asked casually, glancing up to see a look of stark panic flash across Obi-Wan's face.
The slight man very nearly took a step away from the counter as if he'd just been struck. "It was fine," he bit out, unable to look Madam Nu in the face. She finished checking in the holovids and set them in her return cart, to be sorted and reintegrated into the Archive shelves later, for future interested parties. Not that Obi-Wan wasn't easily her most frequent patron of the restricted access section, but still. At the very least, the skittish Master always brought everything back on time, she rationalized. In fact, it could be easily said that Obi-Wan Kenobi was ridiculously punctual, his visits as faithful as the chrono hanging above the return cart, ticking away the minutes.
"If it's all right with you, I'd like to look around a little," Obi-Wan muttered, still trying desperately not to make eye contact. Madam Nu nodded, making a sweeping gesture with her arm to indicate her permission, such that it was. The bearded man was halfway across the room when she decided she just couldn't resist any longer.
"Oh, Master Kenobi!" she called. "I implore you to consider the latest volume of 'Jedi Circle Jerk-o-Rama', and also 'Yes, Master #3'. We just got them in yesterday afternoon." Obi-Wan paled visibly, even from some distance, and quickly slunk into one of the holovid aisles. Madam Nu snickered to herself. Someday, she told herself, she would make an honest attempt to give the poor man a break.
But not today.
"I don't know about this, Anakin," Jedi Padawan Tru Veld intoned anxiously to his best friend. "I mean, what if Master Kenobi gets done with his errands early and catches us in his rooms?"
Sixteen-year-old Anakin Skywalker tossed Tru a grin over his shoulder. "He won't," he said confidently. "I saw the list that he made for himself. He'll be lucky to be back before evening meditation at that rate."
Tru still didn't look convinced. "But Anakin," he urged, "didn't you say he took your holopen away because Master Soma reported to him that you were disrupting your Interplanetary Politics class with it?"
Anakin snickered. "Interplanetary Politics is a class that needs to be disrupted. Master Soma should have thanked me for it." He palmed open his own Master's door and peered inside. The lack of lights cast a dim, late-afternoon glow on all of the furniture. "You worry too much, Tru."
"I know." Tru fidgeted. "But sometimes I think you're a little too reckless, too. Plus, don't you think your Master will be even angrier at you for taking your holopen back before he decides to let you have it on his own accord?"
"Obi-Wan doesn't really mean that he's going to keep it for as long as he says," Anakin said airily, waving his hand. "He even forgets what he doles out for punishment most of the time. Trust me, Tru," Anakin assured his best friend, "I'm actually doing him a favor by retrieving it myself."
"If you say so," the Teevan replied. Nonetheless, he followed Anakin inside Obi-Wan's private quarters, blinking as overhead lamps clicked on. He watched as Anakin immediately began scrounging around, pulling drawers open and checking in crevices for his confiscated pen. Tru hung back; he was nervous as it was just being in a Jedi Master's private rooms. He wasn't about to desecrate them besides.
Anakin, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem whatsoever; he began to fling clothing about haphazardly from Obi-Wan's small bureau, the discarded articles landing heavily on the bed. "Not here," he muttered, and then said something under his breath in Huttese that Tru couldn't quite understand verbatim, but that he got the gist of nonetheless.
Grumpily, Anakin dropped to his knees and lifted up the warm coverlet hanging neatly over the edge of Obi-Wan's bed. "A-ha, now we're getting somewhere," he crowed triumphantly, pulling out a small cardboard box. The flaps were arranged so that the contents were not readily visible, and Anakin fiddled with them impatiently. "What do we have here." He stopped and stared inside dumbfoundedly.
"What is it? What's wrong, Anakin?" Tru's eyes were as wide as saucers.
"I I'm not sure." Tru tottered over to take in Anakin's discovery with his own eyes.
"Are those porno vids?" Tru squeaked. The attribution of them to Anakin's Maser was left unspoken.
"I yeah," Anakin muttered. And they were; about eight of them, all with ridiculous titles and provocative cover images. He picked up a copy of 'Jedi Master Bator' and snickered. "Screw the holopen, let's check these out."
"Anakin, no. Anakin, I think that might be a really bad idea " Tru gasped, but trailed after him anyways, back into the living room area of Obi-Wan's apartment. He wringed his hands nervously, glancing at the door every few seconds. "Anakin, if he catches us, you'll be in so muc-"
"Quiet," Anakin ordered as seductive music filtered from his Master's holorecorder. The porno vid's title flashed on the screen, and Tru covered his mouth.
It was not difficult to tell that the subject matter was being fetishized, and that the two main performers, such that they were, were not actually Jedi. It was also obvious that casting decisions were largely influenced by one's largeness. "Do you see that?" Anakin giggled.
Tru peeked out from between his fingers. "How can you not?" he asked.
"No." Anakin waved his hand impatiently. "His Padawan braid. It's totally clipped on." It was a gaudy affair, and secretly Anakin wondered with more than a little curiosity about his Master's own 'largeness' if Obi-Wan really got off on things like this.
The storyline, sparse as it was, was not difficult to follow. "You've been a very bad Padawan today," the 'Master' of the pair was saying, already stripped and ostentatiously posed to give maximum attention to his endowment.
The slighter 'Padawan' prostrated himself in a way that was hardly conducive to seeming repentant. "I couldn't help myself, Master," he said, his hand snaking down to touch himself lewdly. "Your cock was just so inviting and delicious."
"Oh my " Tru trailed off, still cupping his hand over his mouth. Anakin just snorted, eyes still fixed on the screen.
The 'Master' picked up a rather formidable-looking instrument, smacking it against his palm while the 'Padawan' gazed at him lewdly, still masturbating. "Do you think you deserve this, Padawan?" the larger man said, in between fleshy smacks of dildo meeting hand. "Do you think-" smack "that you deserve-" smack "to be my " smack "slut?"
"This is so awful," Tru gasped. "I think I'd rather die than have Master Gaul say that to me."
"Yeah, really," Anakin murmured, still smirking at the dirty holovid as the scene played out. In truth, if Obi-Wan ever uttered a word like that, he'd probably die laughing.
"Do you like this, slut?" the 'Master' demanded, his 'apprentice' now bent over his lap, legs spread obscenely wide. "Tell me you like this."
"I love it, Master," the younger man said, moaning lewdly as his ass was viciously attacked by the dildo, which Anakin was sure was at least as long as his arm. That was apparently incentive for the 'Master' to go more quickly, and his 'apprentice' jerked spasmodically against his lap. "Oh, please, Master, please!" he cried, in what was perhaps his best go at acting so far.
The seemingly indefatigable 'Master' was winded, finally. "You want more, slut?" he huffed, and Anakin wondered how the 'Padawan' was going to sit for a week. "Tell me how much more you want."
"I want it all, Master. Oh, Master oh, please!" Tru coughed, his face bright red, and Anakin giggled and stood, moving to turn it off. The 'Padawan' was in mid-plea for the 'Master to "impale me with your hard lightsaber" when the holovid popped out of the recorder.
Tru shook his head. "I can't believe Master Obi-Wan owns that. I can't believe he watches it! It's so not him," he trailed off.
Anakin fiddled with the case. "I guess you never really know someone until you 'know' them," he shrugged. He checked the small chrono that he kept in his utility belt; there was still a good half hour or so before Obi-Wan would return, he guessed. "C'mon," he said, beckoning to Tru. "We still have time to go search for my holopen again."
It was almost a day later to the minute when Obi-Wan found himself pawing through the same box, seeking some afternoon delight. He hadn't had a moment's peace since yesterday, when Anakin had essentially pounced on him, wheedling to know where his confiscated holopen was. Fading that, the boy had simply been acting weird, even by Anakin's standards.
First, there had been the fact that Anakin couldn't stop smiling at him; not at all innocently either. It was as if he had just heard something wonderfully scathing and was fighting a losing battle to keep it to himself. It had unnerved Obi-Wan completely by dinnertime. "Is there something on your mind, Anakin?" he'd asked, food halfway into his mouth.
"No, Master." That was the other thing; his apprentice kept speaking in hushed, throaty tones, a couple of octaves deeper than his usual tenor. Obi-Wan wondered if he had a cold. He made a mental note to ask Anakin about it later.
'Later.' He allowed himself a small smile of his own. His Padawan would not be back for quite a while, Obi-Wan having sent Anakin to Tru Veld's place to study. Obi-Wan had done his research carefully: Anakin had three exams coming up. He would be at Tru's for most of the evening, leaving him to his own devices.
Obi-Wan felt a stab of guilt at how manipulative this seemed when he thought about it in such a manner; sneaking around on his own Padawan, for Force's sake. In his head, a small voice chastised him for his dishonesty. It sounded like a cross between his own and Master Yoda, which was sort of odd in its own right.
But an even smaller voice, which sounded like Anakin's, worked to assuage his fear that he wasn't doing this for his Padawan's benefit at all. "It's okay, Master," his apprentice chided him brightly. "I would spend the day masturbating if I could, too."
He winced, ignoring all forms of inner monologue for the moment. His private quarters were quiet for the moment, he reaffirmed to himself. Ergo, he would simply take stock of that small, rare pleasure.
Opening the box was always somewhat of a ritual for him. Obi-Wan had found the thing in Qui-Gon's closet during his own move into his late Master's chambers. It was standard and nondescript, and while Obi-Wan had not actually intended to use it to, essentially, smuggle porn, he'd found that it was actually a rather ingenious way to do so.
The box flaps were not folded the way he usually left them, however, which caught him off-guard. Surely, he thought, if Anakin had found his stash, he would never have heard the end of it. His apprentice technically had the ability to apply logic and stealth to every day situations, of course, but he was all too used to Anakin's leap-before-looking approach to life. Also, he decided ruefully, this was hardly a situation that would require any extended periods of thought that would prolong the inevitable confession that he had found said stash unless the boy was horrified enough by the idea that his Master was so depraved in the first place.
No, he decided firmly. Anakin did not know that his Master had kept a steady supply of Jedi-fetish sex holovids in a plain brown box underneath his bed for years; he did not have any reason to suspect otherwise.
Obi-Wan Kenobi was, in fact, in very deep denial.
"Oh, no. You did something, didn't you?" Tru asked with dread, recognizing all too well the shit-eating grin on Anakin's face. "Anakin, c'mon, I really can't afford to have Master Gaul angry at me again."
Anakin's mischievous smirk widened. "Why, Tru," he drawled. "Whatever makes you think that?"
Tru regarded him warily. "Call it a hunch," he said, but fell into step with his best friend nonetheless. "Where are we going?" he queried, once he realized that they were heading in the opposite direction of the dorms, or Anakin's Master's place.
Anakin strode so briskly that Tru had to jog a little to keep up. "We're headed to the library," he finally explained.
Tru panted. "Do you have a paper or something to do?"
Anakin made a noise in the back of his throat. "Consider it a reconnaissance mission," he said cheerily.
Tru looked even more bewildered. "In the library?"
Anakin nodded. "For that is where the true test of our skill lies," he said sagely. They reached the front doors of the Archives.
Tru stopped suddenly as Anakin's hand found the doorknob. "Why are we here really?" he asked. "Tell me, Anakin. I deserve to know what I'm about to get nailed for."
"'Ye of little faith," Anakin grumbled, and then brightened, clapping a hand to his friend's shoulder. "Not to worry, Tru," he said. "What our Masters don't know won't hurt us."
"Anakin!"
"Okay, okay." He held up his hands in defeat. "Obi-Wan took the holovids back."
Tru groaned. "Not those again." He raised an eyebrow. "You still haven't answered my question."
"We're going to find them again," Anakin said matter-of-factly.
"What? Why? We already know what's on them. What's the point of that?" Sometimes often Tru didn't understand how Anakin's brain worked. Or really, if it functioned at all.
Anakin, however, seemed perfectly confident. "We've only actually seen one of them," he explained patiently. "Don't you want to know what else is there?"
"Not really," Tru answered honestly. He'd been trying to repress memories of 'Jedi Master Bator' ever since they'd unwittingly stumbled upon it.
But Anakin was nonplussed. "Well, I do. You don't have to go if you don't want to, of course." The imploring look that he gave Tru said otherwise, though.
"No," he sighed, giving in. "You may as well not get into trouble alone."
"Attaboy," Anakin said, beaming. They entered the first set of double doors leading into the Archives. "Just follow my lead," he whispered loudly, and then, in a 'normal' voice: "hello, Madam Nu! How are you this fine afternoon?"
"Really smooth," Tru snorted. Anakin elbowed him.
Madam Nu looked surprised to see them. "And you as well," she finally replied. "What are you boys here for?"
"Research," Anakin giggled, just as Tru piped in with, "study group." "We're doing research for a group presentation, is the thing," Anakin said hurriedly. "Lots of research. So yeah, we'd better go start the, uh, the research, I mean." He fairly pulled Tru behind the first of many tall shelves. "That was close," he breathed.
"Yeah." Tru considered pointing out how a youngling would have picked up on Anakin's suspicious nature, but decided against it. "So where to, now?" he replied instead.
"I guess wherever they keep the holos," Anakin mused. "I wonder if they hide the ones Obi-Wan was watching."
"We could always ask someone who works here," Tru giggled.
"Yeah, that would go over well. 'Excuse me, could you tell us where we can find the Padawan fetish porno?'" Tru guffawed, choking a little. Then he was suddenly very still, his gaze fixed raptly in front of him.
"What?" Anakin said, still snickering. "Can't you just imagine the old bat's face when oh. Hey there, Olin," he sneered. "Fancy seeing you here."
Ferus Olin stood a few feet away, pushing a large cart of books and other Archive materials, assumably waiting to be reshelved. The apprentice of Master Siri Tachi, Ferus was the embodiment of everything Anakin hated in a Padawan: pompous, arrogant, and Anakin gave an involuntary shiver at the thought rigidly rule-abiding.
Ferus looked as at place in the expansive library as Anakin felt out of it. "Hello, Tru, Anakin," he nodded, somewhat stiffly.
Anakin just gave a derisive snort, but Tru attempted polite conversation. "What'cha doing in here, Ferus?" he asked kindly, long used to the tension between Ferus and his best friend.
The older boy, who could have passed for Anakin's brother if the situation called for it, with his two-year seniority and small height advantage, nodded at his cart. "I volunteer here twice a week, shelving and doing whichever administrative tasks that Madam Nu happens to cook up." Ferus grinned a little. "It's terribly exciting, as I'm sure you can imagine."
"Thrilling," Tru piped up amiably. The look on Anakin's face was easy to decipher, even without a Force connection, however: Ferus would find working in a library to be exciting.
"What are you two in here for?" The smile on Ferus' face flickered slightly. "I don't recall seeing Anakin ever prowling these parts," he said ruefully.
Anakin scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded. Tru sighed inwardly, holding his hands up in a universal peace offering/plea. The last thing he needed was to have to help Madam Nu pull them off of each other.
Ferus seemed to sense Tru's discomfort and quickly muttered an apology. "I only meant it as a joke," he said hastily.
Anakin's eyes were narrowed as though he wanted to say something more. Tru quickly cut in, however. "We were just looking for the nature holovids. Um, specifically ones relating to bantha-mating habits." Anakin snorted rather indiscreetly.
Ferus' nose crinkled. "Sort of an unsavory subject matter," he commented idly.
Tru's eyes widened in agreement. "I know," he said, trying to immerse himself fully in the lie to make it seem more plausible. "They're so smelly. But my Wildlife Preservation class has this big paper due, and Anakin said he'd help 'cause he's got an interest in, ah, mounting styles." Anakin made a choking noise.
If Ferus suspected anything, he didn't make it obvious. "I see," he said slowly, then gestured outward and slightly to his right. "All the holovids are kept in the East Wing," he explained. "They're broken up by category, and there's a whole section on wildlife. I'm not sure if there's anything specifically on bantha sex," he said, frowning at Anakin, "but there you go."
"Wow, thanks, Ferus," Tru gushed. He hurried by the older boy, eager to get away from his and Anakin's withering glances and silent feud.
The holovids were simple enough to find, the different sections clearly labeled. "I wonder what they call the porn," Anakin murmured as they browsed the aisles. "'Humanoid mating habits', maybe," he continued, and Tru snickered.
A half hour or so later, however, and they were ready to concede defeat. "I'm starting to think it wouldn't be such a bad idea to ask Olin where they keep the good stuff," Anakin grumbled. "A loser like him has probably watched every volume they have."
Tru thought about pointing out that Anakin's Master seemed like a connoisseur himself, but sighed instead and glanced around aimlessly.
"That's a great angle, pretending he's doing good deed by helping Madam Nu out when he's really hey, what's that?" Tru looked to where Anakin was pointing, a nondescript door that he wouldn't have even noticed it if Anakin hadn't brought it to his attention. That seemed to be the point, judging by the small sign posted near the top: 'Masters-Only Area'.
"That's it," Anakin breathed excitedly. "That's gotta be it." He looked around furtively, trying to decide whether they were being watched. Then, to Tru's horror, he waved his hand over the door panel and slid inside.
Tru half-expected there to be an alarm, or for Anakin to be escorted from the hidden room by a stern-faced Madam Nu. "Anakin, what'd you find?" he hissed, morbidly curious even in spite of himself. "Anything?"
"I'll say," came Anakin's impressed whisper. "There is like, piles of wanking material in here." Tru could hear scuffling. "Man, you should see the size of this guy's -"
"Anakin, please, hurry," Tru begged, glancing around anxiously. "We're going to get caught, I just know it."
"Relax," Anakin murmured absently, busy studying a holovid case with three naked and extremely well-endowed men on the cover. He was about to add something when he heard a small gasp, and then an overly-placating tone. "Hey, Ferus again! How are you?"
"Poo-doo," Anakin muttered under his breath. Just a moment ago, he'd been reluctant to leave, and now, suddenly, he was trapped. He sighed and listened to Tru trying to babble his way out of what he was sure was one of Ferus' I-like-to-pretend-I'm-already-a-Master glares.
"Where's Anakin?" he heard the older boy ask. He squeezed as far into the corner of the small room as possible, praying to a fellow miscreant of any denomination that Ferus wasn't astute enough to notice that the door was ajar.
Tru was also working hard to keep Ferus' attention diverted elsewhere. "He went to 'fresher," the Teevan explained, a little too quickly.
Anakin could practically see Ferus crossing his arms. "The 'fresher on this floor is out of service," he told Tru. "It has been for a couple of weeks."
"I know, he had to run upstairs," Tru said breathlessly. "It just hit him all of the sudden. Chili surprise. I hope he made it," he hedged, sounding suspiciously desperate.
Ferus wasn't having any of it, though. "I see," he muttered, and the squeaking of his cart indicated that he was drawing closer to the door. "If you'll excuse me," he told Tru, "I need to get in here."
Anakin could hear his friend shuffling in front of the door providing his only cover, the Teevan using his body as a blockade. "It says Masters-Only, though!" Tru exclaimed. "You're not a Master yet, Ferus."
Ferus, to his credit, still sounded remarkably patient. "Madam Nu makes an exception for her Archive volunteers," he explained. "Now really, Tru, I need to shelve a couple of things in there, so if you don't mind "
Anakin bit his lip. He had to do something, and quickly! He glared at the older boy through the door, picturing with Jedi training-enhanced accuracy his smug face, his pristinely-pressed tunics, and even the trademark gold streak in his Padawan braid. He thought of the cart Ferus had been pushing, and suddenly, he had an idea. His focus shifted fully to the cart, recalling every detail, from the scuff marks on the wheels to the book on the second shelf with the taped cover.
The indignant squawk from Ferus' mouth as the cart pitched backwards suddenly, backing into a shelf repeatedly before taking off seemingly on its own accord was gratifying. "What in the blazes!" Ferus yelled, hurrying after it.
"Don't worry, Ferus, I'll help you chase it down!" Tru called after him. Anakin heard his friend's retreating footsteps against the thin, commercial carpeting and sighed with relief. That was close.
He knew he didn't have a whole lot of time to carry out his task, either. Ferus may have been a prat, but he wasn't stupid. Quickly, Anakin selected about four or five pornovids, popping them out of their cases and fitting them into his satchel. Then he slipped back out the door from whence he came, leaving it ajar behind him.
When Tru found him again at last, he was in the nature vids, which were exactly where Ferus told him they'd be. "That was kind of a dirty trick, Anakin," Tru chastised him, but peered curiously at him. "Now what are you doing?"
Anakin fitted 'Love With A Lightsaber' into a box marked 'Gundarks 101' then placed what Tru saw was the case's correct holovid over it, shutting it with a snap. "Research," he grinned. "Come on," he motioned, gathering up a small pile of nature movies. "Let's just hope Madam Nu's going blind in her old age."
Obi-Wan strode leisurely back to his quarters. It had been a satisfying day; the Council's lengthy visit with various members of the Senate had been surprisingly eventful and most pleasant. He hummed a little to himself, fingering his apprentice's holopen in the pocket of his cloak. He would give it back to Anakin tonight, he decided graciously.
He palmed open his apartment door, a little surprised to see the lights on. He knew Anakin stopped by on his own accord, but he had not been previously told that this would happen tonight. "Anakin?" he called, his Padawan nowhere in the immediate vicinity. He stepped further into the room, and made the mistake of glancing at the holorecorder.
He gasped. Somehow, someway, 'Jedi Master Bator' was on the screen. "Do you want this, slut? Tell me how much you want this." Obi-Wan hurried forward to shut it off; then he heard something that made his blood run cold.
"I want it, Master." Anakin's voice was seductive, throaty over that of the faux-Padawan's on the screen. "I want it all." And, Obi-Wan was mutually horrified and fascinated to see, his apprentice was similarly very, very naked.
Some two hours or so later, Anakin lay sprawled alongside his Master on the couch, the both of them extremely sated. "I never knew you had four rounds in you, Master," Anakin said hazily, licking his lips.
Obi-Wan sighed and ruffled his hair affectionately, in spite of himself. "It's not something I make a habit of," he told the boy as sternly as he could. "When your allegiance is to the Force, first and foremost, you do not need such base depravities."
"Yeah, yeah. But they're nice to have around anyway," Anakin said airily. "And you're the one who had them under your bed in the first place."
Obi-Wan made a choking noise in the back of his throat, but decided not to continue this strain of conversation. Instead, his gaze fixed on the holovid case as Anakin moved to put another movie in. "Funny, this doesn't appear to be 'Dance of the Banthas' to me," he commented, gratified in some small way to see Anakin flush sheepishly.
The actual holovid's title screen followed by one citing the credits. "Xan-Man Productions," Anakin read, and suddenly, Obi-Wan had a very bad feeling about this.
His gut instinct was only confirmed a few minutes later. "Padawan, you fought well in the last battle," the dark-haired man whom he recognized immediately as Qui-Gon Jinn's estranged former apprentice was saying to the stocky blond boy in the same frame. "But I think your Master sustained some injuries to his nether regions. Be a good apprentice and help me check."
"Yes, Master." The familiar strains of seductive music filtered in the background. Obi-Wan got up and shut it off, suddenly sure that he would never be able to watch porn again.
"Come on, it was just getting good," Anakin protested. He flung himself across the couch lewdly, obviously trying to convince his Master to turn it back on. When he saw that it wasn't working, he pouted and looked around. "Hey," he said suddenly, "can I have my holopen back now?"