Written for a Challenge on another website: some character assassination follows

Your challenge is to write a scene where Obi-Wan is rescued by Anakin. It can be any time frame, any incident, be it serious or humorous


"Save me, Obi-Wan Kenobi." A hand came up and ruffled through his hair as soft lips tickled the back of his neck.

Said Obi-Wan Kenobi froze. Sabe was on the prowl again; her prey, one Obi-Wan Kenobi. It had been like this every meeting between them ever since their ship had been stranded on Tatooine a few years ago, back when he was still Padawan Kenobi cooped up with four bored young handmaidens.

He now classified social occasions with predatory females the same as he classified flying – best to be avoided if possible and endured if not.

"Sabe?" He turned and bowed over her hand, ever the polite and oh-so-quaking-in-his-boots Jedi. Enemies bent on killing one were a nuisance, but single-minded, flirtatious women with an obsession on bedding a Jedi for the experience – well, he shuddered – were far more dangerous.

And, sadly, a bit of temptation as well. He was a man, after all, and it was flattering – and terrifying – all at once, to be stalked like a jackibird by a sandpanther.

It was an occupational hazard of a Jedi's life; Qui-Gon had warned him of this potential danger once he'd reached puberty. He'd passed on the same lecture to Anakin not that long ago – the skinny little boy he'd taken as his padawan was now an awkward and growing adolescent with equally awkward hormones racing through him.

At this Senate reception, especially, Obi-Wan did not have the option of running away, not with the eyes of the Chancellor, not to mention the Jedi Council, upon him.

Feigning fearlessness, Obi-Wan straightened to his full height, almost managing to meet Sabe's eyes without having to look up.

"Will you save this fair maiden from utter boredom?"

He almost snorted. Fair maiden – not if he had to make an educated guess.

It was bad enough where her eyes were fixed – not on his, certainly – but he stifled a yelp when her hand went there as well.

The music started and Obi-Wan grabbed the opportunity to grab Sabe's hand away from where it had no business being.

"A Jedi is always," he gulped and bravely added, though he knew their definition of what he was about to say was entirely different, "at your service. May I have this dance?"

Obi-Wan offered his arm.

"Mix and mingle, your duty for tonight," Yoda had reminded him. He'd like to set Yoda up with Sabe and see how the little green troll liked that.

Shaking that horrible picture out of his head, Obi-Wan tried to hide his alarm when he realized this dance was a slow, couple dance, one requiring body contact. Luckily, such contact was limited to the hands.

The Jedi placed one hand on her waist while clasping her left hand with his right. Before he could take one step, he had to immediately grab her right hand and reposition it properly - up and forward – to get it where it belonged: on his waist not his behind.

This type of dance, as well, required that the male partner – or at least one of the dancers – take the lead and the other partner follow. All Jedi were taught to dance as many cultures used dance in ceremonies. No, even with the first step he knew the problem wasn't that he wasn't leading properly.

It was that Sabe wasn't following properly.

He stepped forward – and so did she.

His alarm deepened when the space between them – was no longer. Sabe pressed right up against him and between nibbles on his ear asked archly, "Is that all you're offering – your arm?"

Oh, oh. He took a step back.

"Forgive me; I forgot the dance requires, er, no body contact except the hands."

"There are other ways to 'dance' Obi-Wan and some of them require," she grinned, moving her hips sinuously against him as she again moved forward, "full body contact."

Again she moved forward; again he stepped back. Despite the situation, he almost wanted to grin – perhaps they'd be responsible for a whole new dance step – advance, retreat, advance, retreat.

If Qui-Gon were only alive – all he'd have to do was show up and all the females' attention would immediately snap to him, leaving Obi-Wan alone. Unfortunately, Qui-Gon was dead. Obi-Wan wouldn't be saved by his master.

In many cultures, dancing was part of the mating ritual; two partners feeling each other out – Obi-Wan mentally smacked himself in the head – he did not want those kind of thoughts right now, cultural or not.

This was dancing. Social dancing. Not a mating ritual.

He turned his attention back to Sabe. No, he sighed, it was not merely a social ritual to her, not when she was nearly drooling.

He was Jedi Knight for several years now – brave, strong and patient. Cool and calm under pressure. Socially adept and – he jumped when her hand slipped from its intended placement to pinch him.

He wanted to escape. Now! He didn't care one whit about the social rules of dancing or social etiquette – or even the Jedi Code – not with Sabe's hand – argh!

One's attention was supposed to be firmly planted on one's dance partner.

A Jedi was supposed to be calm.

A Jedi was supposed to be able to focus on the moment despite distractions - the nibbles at his neck, the suggestions whispered between the nibbles, the – Obi-Wan looked around desperately for a diversion.

Yoda only smiled at him and nodded. Mace Windu: the man was busy with his own female – and almost smiling. Ki-Adi-Mundi was staring into his drink while Adi Gallia was deep in conversation with the Chancellor.

That left – Obi-Wan looked around desperately.

Anakin! Save me, please!

From dancing? You're doing okay – you're not stepping on her toes!

That might work! Obi-Wan squarely planted one foot on hers and smiled in false apology.

Sabe only growled back. "Oh, Kenobi, I like it rough…" and her left hand escaped his grip to tug on his ear.

Didn't work – please, Padawan.

His padawan was laughing at him! His master needed help and the padawan was laughing.

She's drunk. He was begging – heck, he was lying – but he didn't want to cause a scene and that was the only way he'd escape if he wasn't rescued first.

I'll reduce your punishment for your latest infraction if you do the good Jedi padawan thing and help your master….

Wheedling, begging and pleading were finally working, for Anakin's eyes brightened. The boy had an idea.

Thank the Force for his padawan! Anakin whispered something to the Senator he was speaking with. The man looked, nodded and followed Anakin with avid eyes as he went to Obi-Wan's side; looking the Jedi up and down in approval.

Forgive me, Master?

For what?


This.

With a bright blush, Anakin leaned forward and said quietly, "He likes men, Mistress Sabe. There's a certain someone he already expressed interest in and at Obi-Wan's request, I found out that interest is returned."

Obi-Wan was mortified, but the tactic was effective, he had to admit.

Sabe's hands dropped to her sides. "What a waste," she murmured, deep regret in her eyes.

He was saved!

Sabe looked at Anakin and smiled. "So Padawan – how old are you?"

Obi-Wan had no time to spare for his padawan's predicament – the boy would have to extricate himself from this one because –

Anakin had only saved him from Sabe.

He had been saved once.…

However…

…The Senator was staring at him – and apparently liking what he imagined he saw, for he was - licking his lips, Force help him.

"So, Master Kenobi." The man sauntered over to him, and leaned close – close enough to blow into his ear. "Your boy there says…."

Obi-Wan blushed furiously. No one was going to touch his … he was going to kill Anakin. Teenagers! Lightsabers were not erotica. They were – weapons. One didn't caress – he blushed even harder.

Oh, dear Force. Flying, predatory females – and now politicians. He was swearing off them all. Anakin had saved him from Sabe, but at what cost?

As he was swept off to dance in the Senator's arms, Obi-Wan knew just one thing about the rest of the evening: He had a very bad feeling about this.

.