Summary: A run-of-the-mill weekend excursion on the pleasure planet of Corellia results in consequences far more dire than Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Ahsoka Tano anticipate when Obi-Wan ends up married to Asajj Ventress. Chapter Two: With Obi-Wan blissed out, and her Master incapacitated in his own way, Ahsoka takes matters into her own hands.
What Happens on Corellia
Chapter Two - A Slow, Glowing Dream
"It's very dangerous," Zan Arbor had told her, dangling the vial in front of Ventress. The assassin grasped it between two long, pointed fingernails before snatching it up - a less dexterous person would have fumbled it - and Zan Arbor narrowed her eyes. "It's also experimental, very hard to come by. That means you need to do it right the first time."
"Look, you keep making your pretty potions, and I'll do the real work," Ventress told her, matching the older woman's haughtiness with a sneer. She held it at eye-level. "Do I get them to drink it or what?"
"You can," Zan Arbor replied. "But it works just as well absorbed into the skin. I wouldn't go using it for perfume." She eyed Ventress briefly. "I mean, not that you would."
Ventress ignored the barb - never mind, Zan Arbor could have been her grandmother twice over. "What's it do?" she asked.
Zan Arbor smiled in self-satisfaction. "It's... well, it's *complicated*," she replied condescendingly, and Ventress glared. Her forte might be violence, but she was not stupid. "It's a mind-control device. In the most basic terms, the substance reacts to itself. When two or more people are exposed, it will create an attraction, almost an aphrodisiac." The scientist seemed terribly pleased with herself. "It lowers inhibitions, makes the subject completely attached to any other beings with the substance in their systems."
Ventress couldn't help thinking that they didn't need a drug to make Kenobi and Skywalker inordinately attached to each other, but, she supposed, with the added benefit of loss of inhibitions, it meant that they would be able to break through their Jedi restraint (or what little restraint Skywalker possessed). It meant there would be flagrant Code-breaking, and quite possibly public humiliation for The Team. It was brilliant in its stupidity, really. The Jedi would be so busy with PR that it would leave the doors wide open for the next phase of her Master's plan.
Ventress scowled deeply, Zan Arbor's warning echoing through her head. The group had been ushered out the doors and into the street, and she flung herself at the Togruta, growling. The little brat had seriously jeopardized her mission! If she got near Kenobi... but she could sense Kenobi behind her, approaching quickly, if unsteadily.
Skywalker flanked them both, giggling like an idiot. The girl still had her lightsaber out, but Ventress was no longer concerned with her. She turned to face Kenobi, who was looking at her with bleary interest. "Hello there," he said with a quirked smile.
"Way t'go, Snips," she distantly heard Skywalker grouse. "Now we gotta go somewhere else."
It seemed, Ventress suddenly realized as Kenobi took her arm, like a good idea. Touching him, that was. At first, it seemed right because she was pretty sure she wanted to rip him limb from limb with her bare hands, and you had to touch someone to do that, but then Ventress realized that Kenobi's fingers were soft and warm, gentle yet unerringly masculine, and suddenly, his touching her seemed to serve another purpose altogether.
"Oh, my," Obi-Wan breathed as their mouths connected. Ventress' hands scrabbled for purchase against the folds of Obi-Wan's robes, his hair, the sides of his face. She couldn't seem to get *close* enough to him, and it frustrated her.
A shudder went through him as her nails clawed his face in her haste to pull him to her, not unwilling, but dazed by these latest developments. "Stop ... moving," Ventress muttered. "Too ... far." To her left, she could hear Skywalker's charge making horrified squeaks, but paid them no mind. She had to have this. She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that it was merely the drug doing what it was designed to do, but it didn't seem to matter. Not to her, and certainly not to Kenobi, who had wrapped his arms around her waist tightly enough to knock the wind out of her.
"Maaaasssssttteeer," Skywalker was whining, and she felt him bump against her shoulder. She shoved him backwards with the Force, not wanting to risk taking her hands off Kenobi for a moment.
"Hmmm," Kenobi moaned into her mouth. "Ahsoka," Kenobi commanded, swiveling his head just enough so that he wasn't speaking directly to Ventress' tonsils, "pull.... ungh.... pull the speeder... around." The youngling began squeaking anew.
"This is *gross*," Ahsoka stage-whispered to Anakin, watching Master Kenobi and his would-be-assassin dry-hump against a light post. She waited for Anakin to agree with her, but when she glanced up, his face was plastered with a goofy, dreamy grin. "M-Master?" she asked tentatively.
Anakin clasped his hands across his chest. "Love is so ... beautiful," he sighed. Ahsoka resisted the urge to kick him in the head. And then she realized that it probably wouldn't do any more considerable damage than what was already there.
"This must have to do with whatever spilled on Ventress," Ahsoka deduced aloud. She peered at Anakin more closely. "Did you drink anything of Obi-Wan's?"
Anakin nodded absently, his eyes still on the show before them, on Ventress fumbling with his Master's tunic. 'That's a good idea,' Anakin's sun-dragon murmured to him.
"What the kriff are you doing?!" Ahsoka screamed as Anakin's outermost shirt landed on her head.
Anakin looked down at her, swaying slightly. "My dragon tol' me to," he said, quite matter-of-factly as he slid out of his inner tunic and let it drop to the ground.
Ahsoka was fairly sure this sort of thing wasn't covered in any training course. "Your... what?" she asked, quickly realizing that she was quite possibly the only sane one left.
Anakin blinked at her. "You... you know, your sun dragon," he said, as if she *should* know. "The... it... it tells you to do stuff."
Ahsoka frowned slightly, trying to ignore the animalistic noises coming from Obi-Wan and Ventress' direction. "You mean your *conscience*, Master?" she prompted.
"My what?" Anakin asked, running a hand over his bare chest. "No, no, tha... that is not. Not what I meant at all."
Ahsoka was in no mood to discuss technical definitions of conscience versus auditory hallucination. She had begun to put together the pieces of what had happened, and though she still wasn't sure *why*, she knew that this was Bad. "Master, we *have* to do something!"
He blinked blearily. "Oh... yes..." For a brief moment, Ahsoka thought her Master was going to be able to break through the fog and be helpful. "Snips. Snip, snip, Snips ..." He made a cutting motion with his fingers, pinching the end of one of her head-tails, and then dissolved into quiet, drunken laughter.
So much for that.
The group eventually piled into the speeder, Ventress practically straddling Obi-Wan in the backseat, and Anakin slinking into the passenger side next to Ahsoka. "You don't know where we're goin'," Anakin slurred in Ahsoka's ear as she grabbed up the keycard from her utility belt. Ahsoka blanched as his hot breath hit her cheek.
"Ugh. I'm driving back to Coruscant," Ahsoka announced, shoving the key into the slot with more force than necessary. "You and Master Kenobi have a date with the Healers, and I think everyone here's had enough excitement for one night."
Anakin eyed her, obviously trying to get his eyes to focus for more than three seconds. "You ... you're ... you're so *orange*," he breathed as she pulled onto the busy thoroughfare. "You look like ... you ... you look like a popsicle." Before she could stop him, his tongue darted out and raked up her cheek. She swerved, much to the loud complaints of the passengers in the back.
"Master!" she screeched. "Keep your tongue to yourself!" She was certain she was going to be repressing memories of this trip for years to come, at this rate.
"Oh yes, An...akin," Obi-Wan added from where he was buried between Ventress' breasts. "Do ... do keep everything ... where it should be ..."
Anakin ran a hand across his bare stomach. "You don't *taste* like a popsicle," he complained. "Fal...false advertising, Snipper."
Ahsoka swiped at her face with the back of her hand disgustedly. "I never claimed I was a popsicle!" she exclaimed. Her Master was about as useful as a youngling, and to make matters worse, there was a deadly assassin catching a ride back to the Temple with them ... a deadly assassin who was currently ... oh. OH. "Master Kenobi!" she screeched. "That, that's not appropriate!" she sputtered.
Anakin swiveled his head to assess the situation. "Awww, don't use your teeth!" he crowed. "Obi-Wan *hates* that." Ventress raised her head from its position near Obi-Wan's nether regions, eyes and teeth gleaming as she grinned.
"No promises."
"Can we have some remote level of decorum befitting a Jedi?!" Ahsoka yelled. The speeder interior grew quiet, almost contemplative. Anakin burped, covering his mouth to muffle the sound. 'Well, good,' Ahsoka thought. Maybe the rest of this strange experience was going to be muja-pie. All she had to do was get everyone back to Coruscant in one piece and-
"You forget, little girl," Ventress' sudden prompting interrupted her reverie and dashed her optimism at the same time. "You forget that I'm not a Jedi."
"That's right," Anakin said, nodding excessively. "She's not a Jedi. She's a ... she's a bad guy."
His declaration was marred slightly by a wet hiccup, but he turned to glare at the offending woman anyway.
"Oh, Anakin," Obi-Wan sighed, then moaned as Ventress ran her hands down his chest. "Do... do not be so quick to judge. She's not, she isn't so... I *like* her..." The Jedi Master wrapped his arms around Ventress and pulled her closer. Ahsoka fought the urge to vomit. "I... I never want to be apart from her." His tone was hushed, reverent, even.
Anakin looked mutinous. "Well... well... why don't you jus' *marry* her, then!" he exclaimed, throwing himself back into his seat fully, arms crossed over his chest, lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout.
"That's against the Code," Ahsoka felt the need to remind everyone, wishing the traffic would thin slightly, wishing the speeder would go faster, wishing they could just get back to the ship already so they could go *home*.
Anakin's gaze took on a sudden clarity. "Not if you keep it a secret," he murmured with a strange smile.
Ahsoka's brow furrowed. "What?"
"Nothin'."
Obi-Wan let out a soft moan, kneeing the back of the driver's seat as Ventress' mouth attacked his neck. "We... we should," he groaned, raking his fingernails down her back. "Get... ohhh.... get married."
Ahsoka took a deep breath, struggling to find her calm Jedi center. It was growing increasingly difficult. "No," she said firmly. "I'm driving, and I say nobody in this speeder is getting married!"
"We *should*," Ventress agreed, climbing completely into Obi-Wan's lap and nibbling his ear. "We should never... ever... be apart.... again." Their movement was causing the speeder's center of gravity to shift, which meant Ahsoka was having a bit of trouble keeping it steady. To say nothing of the fact Anakin had leaned over and grabbed the controls.
"Look!" he said, "if you... if you're... gonna do it, do it!" He pointed the speeder towards a garishly lit chapel whose sign advertised no questions asked ceremonies. "Sometimes," he said sagely, "you gotta do what's... what's in your... your *heart*." He peered out the window intently, the expression comical given his current state. "There should be a chapel a few blocks up," he gestured, grabbing at the wheel again. "C'mon, Snips, take us there."
"We're *not* going to the kriffing chapel!" Ahsoka screamed, tugging on the wheel and making the speeder lurch dangerously to the side. Behind her, Obi-Wan hissed in pain. Ventress swore.
"See, I told you not to use your teeth," Anakin brayed.
Ahsoka wanted to go home. As soon as she realized that what she thought was going to happen was actually going to happen, and that her Master was too busy procuring a foul-smelling drink in an oversized novelty cup from a vendor outside the chapel to be of any use, she knew she had to take matters into her own hands.
"Master," she said, tugging on Anakin's belt - his tunics long-gone by this point, "give me your commlink."
Anakin stared at her in confusion. "My...." He shook his head and she grabbed the commlink from his belt. "Go 'way, popsicle," he told her firmly. "I gotta... I gotta..." He lurched over to Ventress, who was still clinging to Obi-Wan. "Hey," he hissed. "Hey, *you*."
She swiveled to face him, scowling deeply. "*What*, Skywalker?" she snarled, squeezing Obi-Wan's rear end for emphasis. "Stop interrupting."
Ahsoka half-watched, trying to find the frequency for the Jedi Temple as Anakin draped an arm around Ventress' shoulders. "Lissen," he told her, "Lissen. I... I don't, I don't *like* you. But... but... but I want... I want Obi-Wan to be *happy*, so... so if you make him *not* happy..." He narrowed his eyes menacingly - or what *would* have been menacingly if he wasn't holding what was essential a sippy-cup filled with alcohol and could have stood up for more than thirty seconds without swaying. "I will end you."
Ahsoka bit her lip and activated the comm. The not-smiling face of Mace Windu appeared, scrambled at first, but then simply, well, Ahsoka didn't think she'd ever seen him smiling. "Padawan Tano," he greeted with a short nod. "Enjoying your leave?"
Ahsoka sighed. This was going to get ugly. "I'm sorry to report that our trip to Corellia has become ... complicated," she reported.
Windu's eyebrow quirked. "Complicated?" he repeated, looking bemused.
"We ran into some trouble," Ahsoka said vaguely, "And ... well ..."
"Padawan Tano, the Council cannot help you if it doesn't know how it's supposed to help," Windu said, the tone just short of barking.
Ahsoka took a breath and then released it, willing herself not to start squeaking. "Master Kenobi and Skywalker ran into Asajj Ventress," she finally blurted. "They were both drunk, and I'm pretty sure they all got poisoned with something."
Windu's face grew darker, if it were possible. "Where are they now, Ahsoka?" he coaxed, his voice full of barely-concealed irritation.
"They're ..." Ahsoka gulped. She knew it wasn't her fault, but she was still involved, and the situation was so *embarrassing*. "They're ... they're getting married!" she forced out.
Windu let out a chuckle. "Married?" he asked incredulously. There was a pause. "I think Mundi just won the betting pool," he muttered to himself.
Ahsoka blinked. "Master?"
"Where are they now, Ahsoka?"
"They're at the chapel in downtown Corellia," Ahsoka replied, feeling relieved that Windu wasn't dismissing her concerns outright the way Anakin had been doing all evening. "We all are. They made me drive them."
"What occurred during the encounter with Ventress?" Windu prompted. "Did she get away?"
Ahsoka bit her lip. "Um, Master Windu," she coughed, "it ... she ..."
"Tano, for kriff's sake, spit it out!" Windu roared.
"Master Kenobi is getting married to Asajj!" Ahsoka sobbed.
There was a long, horrible silence. "That's not amusing," Windu warned, leaning forward. Ahsoka struggled to keep from hyperventilating - she'd never had to speak to Master Windu alone before, and his intimidating manner combined with the stressful situation was making her want to cry.
"It's not," she agreed, swallowing heavily. "Here, uh, see for yourself." She angled the com so the camera could pick up the goings-on in the chapel. Obi-Wan and Ventress were at the alter, clutching and pawing at each other. Anakin was standing on the other side of Obi-Wan, stroking the older man's beard.
"I'm *so* happy for you, Mas'er," Anakin was slurring. "So, so, so happy... an' I'm jus'... I'm jus' glad I'm a *part* of this..." Obi-Wan was ignoring him in favor of exchanging sloppy kisses with Ventress.
"I've... never felt so ful...filled," Obi-Wan gushed to the magistrate, pressing a kiss against the side of Ventress' head.
Ahsoka closed her eyes and turned the com back to herself. "See?" she asked, feeling a heaviness settle in her chest. Behind her, Anakin groped at himself, hands fumbling as he ran them over his bare chest.
"Heey, Master Windu," he waved, and Ahsoka had to physically restrain herself from walking the short distance and drop-kicking him. Her Master pinched his right nipple. "Look, Massur, my shirt has a hole for my nipples!"
"Motherfucking crackers," Ahsoka heard Windu grumble, and winced. He gave Ahsoka a very impressive glower. "Try and keep them from getting in any *more* trouble," he instructed her. "A liaison from the Council will be there by morning."
"Why's my shirt... I can't get... my shirt off..." Anakin clawed at his chest, and Ahsoka heaved a sigh of relief. A few more hours, and she wouldn't have to deal with any of this anymore. She shouldn't have had to deal with it in the first place, she told herself firmly. Her Master should have taken care of her, kept her safe, like he promised. But he was trying to remove a shirt he wasn't wearing, and Obi-Wan had gotten married to a woman who tried to kill him on a routine basis. She got a sinking feeling *this* was the real Kenobi-and-Skywalker.
"Thank you, Master Windu," she said hurriedly as Anakin stumbled towards her. "I've... I have to go." Anakin was slurring something about celebrating Obi-Wan's nuptials - something Obi-Wan and Ventress seemed to agree with, if their impassioned moaning was any indication. "Master," Ahsoka said carefully, "Master?"
Anakin looked at her, but seemed very confused. "Why... why are you here?" he asked thickly. "I can't... if you... Everythin'... everyone I love... dies... you should, you - you need to stay away from me."
Ahsoka felt a strange ache spread through her, a discomfort she couldn't name."Master, you should probably sit down."
Anakin blinked. He seemed to realize his response was beyond the scope of the conversation, and looked vaguely apologetic. "Awww," he slurred, his eyelids heavy. "You won't leave me, will ya, Snipsss." He gulped a little. "You won't ... leave ... me ... you won't leave ..."
"Master," Ahsoka said cautiously. She reached out to grab his wrist. "Master, come on, come with me, please ..."
"You won't leave. You'll never leave. You're stuck with me forever. Forev-" Those were his last words before he emptied the impressive contents of his stomach on his Padawan's head.
All of Ahsoka's Jedi restraint flew out the window. She wanted to scream her horror and disgust, but couldn't make any noise. She stared up in disbelief as Anakin wiped his mouth with his gloved hand. "Mmm, feel better now," he murmured, stumbling backwards. Ahsoka clenched her fists, shaking, wanting very much to punch her intoxicated Master right in the jaw.
"We're going," she said instead, tightly, gritting her teeth, untying the scarf she'd worn around her waist to use as a towel. "We're going. NOW." She turned to Ventress and Obi-Wan, who were clinging tightly to one another and making their way over to them. "We're going," she repeated. "Get in the speeder. All of you."
To Ahsoka's surprise, nobody argued with her, although Obi-Wan and Ventress made their desire to go to a hotel to... consummate... their marriage well-known. The young Togruta was no longer in the mood to fight with any of them, so she acquiesced. The sooner everyone was in a confined, lockable space, she thought, the better.
Once in the speeder, Obi-Wan and Ventress wasted no time in shedding most of their clothing. The small craft filled with the smell of sweat and something else Ahsoka didn't immediately recognize, but her Master did. "Smells like sex in here," he mumbled, resting his head against the window.
Ahsoka groaned, willing herself not to turn around, and then blanching as she caught sight of the festivities with an accidental glance into the rearview mirror. Ventress growled something in between sucking face with Obi-Wan, which made her Master snicker. "What?" Ahsoka asked, irritated that there was anything even remotely amusing about this to anyone.
"What she said," Anakin snorted. "That means 'more tongue' in Huttese."
Ahsoka's nose crinkled as she focused on the road. "How romantic." She used the speeder's built-in navigation system to drive them to the nearest motel. Jedi didn't carry much in the way of spare change, but Ahsoka knew that Master Kenobi kept a quantifiable amount of emergency credits by the Council for ... not this, she was pretty sure, but she didn't feel too bad about making him foot the bill for it, given the circumstances. She used the Force to part Obi-Wan's credit chip from him, and she wasn't even remotely surprised that he didn't notice, so engrossed in Ventress' breasts as he was.
"We're here," she said, throwing the speeder into 'park' hard enough to slam Anakin's head against the dashboard. She wasn't even sorry. In fact, he deserved it. They all did. "Put clothes on. Get out. Let me do the talking."
Getting the three "adults" out of the speeder and into the motel's lobby was another chore. Obi-Wan and Ventress were luridly groping each other, and it was clear Anakin's grip on reality - and consciousness - was failing. The small Rodian at the front counter seemed very reluctant to provide a room to three intoxicated beings and a youngling, but when he saw the Jedi emblem on the credit chip, suddenly the best room in the motel became available.
The two-room suite was upstairs. Ahsoka herded the intrepid crew into the small lift that would bypass having to climb, not trusting any of her accompanying party to utilize even basic motor skills. Obi-Wan and Ventress, naturally, absconded into the first suite, the fabric of Ventress' wrap getting caught in the door as it shut. After some squawking and fumbling, they had remedied this.
The door slid open to the second room, equipped like its partner with only one large bed. Ahsoka wondered how this was going to work; Jedi were generally nonchalant about things like nudity and privacy, but it was her first occasion really having to consider sleeping arrangements with her very male Master, and especially with him in his current state ... she shook her head to clear it. "I'm going to take a quick shower," she announced to said Master, who was staring in awe at his hands.
"They're so big," he said, holding them up wondrously. "They ... can touch everything except for ... themselves ..."
"That's very nice, " Ahsoka said blandly. She hesitated in front of the refresher door, worrying at the notion of Anakin being unattended in this state. "Will you be okay for a few minutes? I just want to wash the puke off of my head."
"You didn't taste like popsicles," Anakin frowned, as if it were Ahsoka's fault.
Ahsoka sighed and grabbed Anakin's flesh wrist. "And I'm sorry about that, Sky Guy," she told him, "I really am. But right now I need to wash your puke off my head." He blinked at her, his eyes half-lidded and glassy, and he looked very much like he was going to be sick again. "Great," she muttered. "Come on." Pulling him forward, she decided that she would have to trust he would be too interested in the bottom of the toilet bowl to peek in at her while she washed.
The 'fresher was larger than the one in the Padawan dorms, but it was still too small to comfortably accommodate two beings. Still, she didn't want to leave Anakin alone, and she was feeling very sticky and smelly. Not to mention that the running of the shower would cover the sound of the raucous... whatever... going on in the next room. Master Obi-Wan, she had quickly realized, could be *loud* when he wanted to be. "Okay, Master," she said, lowering him to the floor in front of the toilet. "Just don't flush while I'm in there, alright?"
"'Kay," he said blearily. Ahsoka wanted to add that he wasn't allowed to retch anymore, either, but realized that it was inevitable.
The water was hot, refreshing, blissful. Ahsoka tilted her head back, allowing herself to luxuriate in it. Grabbing a loofah, she located a bar of complimentary soap in a ridge in the shower door, still in its wrapper, and tore it open. She began scrubbing at her head-tails first, realizing that the smell of vomit probably wasn't that bad, but happy to be getting clean anyways. She closed her eyes as the water pulsed over her, the sound rhythmic, almost hypnotic. It had been a long night. Maybe it'd be okay if she just ... drifted off ... just for a ... moment ...
"Aaahh! Master, I asked you not to flush!" she screamed as the water turned unexpectedly icy. She pulled open the curtain, still keeping her important bits carefully concealed. "You're such a jerk," she cried, glaring at Anakin, who was, as usual, not taking her even remotely seriously.
"Heh," he giggled, "Your head is all foamy." He propped his elbow on the rim of the toilet bowl and rested his head on his hand, and it would have been cutely inquisitive, Ahsoka thought, if he didn't have a string of vomit running down his chin. "You... you don't even have hair!" Anakin added, as if he'd just come to understand the very nature of the universe.
Ahsoka closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "Don't. Do that. Again." She wished she were controlled enough in the Force to give her Master a sleep suggestion. When this was over, she'd have to bring it up. With someone other than Anakin or Obi-Wan. Maybe Master Windu would take pity on her...
"M'not a youngling, *youngling*," Anakin replied, his elbow slipping and sending him head-first towards the floor.
"Could have fooled me," Ahsoka snapped back. A sudden wave of fatigue washed over her. She tugged the shower curtain closed without another word, finishing her shower with perfunctory quickness, rather than relaxing the way she had been. "Can you hand me a towel?" she asked, extending a hand between the wall and the curtain. She made grabbing motions to indicate haste. Eventually, soft, white cloth was thrust into her hand. "Thank you," she said curtly, and began drying herself off. Anakin hummed to himself - well, to someone, anyway - his eyes half-closed as he swayed a little in place. He looked like an oversized youngling, and Ahsoka found herself taking vague pity on him for it.
"Come on, Sky Guy," she said, begrudgingly extending a hand. Anakin took it. "Oof," Ahsoka gasped, not expecting quite so much heft. Her Master was all gangly limbs and unruly hair - it didn't seem possible that he was that heavy. Then again, he wasn't exactly helping her out here.
It was as if each of his limbs had developed a very separate and distinct consciousness, none of which was interested in working with any of the others. "Are you... what..." He seemed to be having trouble figuring out what Ahsoka was trying to do - namely, get him into bed with a minimum of effort - and was making an impressive effort to go in the exact opposite direction of where she was guiding him. "Obi-Wan..." Anakin whispered thickly, bowing his head, as if in mourning.
"Bed time, Master." Ahsoka attempted once more to push her Master towards the bed and, hopefully, sleep she was surprised hadn't come yet.
Anakin tumbled onto the bed, finally, and she pulled off his boots. "When you sober up," she informed him sternly, "we're going to have a *long talk*." The only response she got was a soft snuffling from Anakin and a shout of ecstasy from the other room. "I want to go home," she said to herself softly, draping a blanket over him and settling herself on the floor, preparing for a long, sleepless night.