Title: Offspring
Author: snootiegirl99
Summary: If Anakin had had a female Master, would his life have taken a different path?
Disclaimer: I own none of these characters and make no money on the writing or publishing of this story. Disney owns everything Star Wars now.
Chapter 8
The Outlander was in full swing by the time the quartet hit the door. Tru and Ferus immediately made their way to the bar for drinks. Anakin scanned the crowd appreciating the mix of humans and aliens. Lots of distraction from one pregnant Master here. He adjusted his shirt across his shoulders once more. It was getting a little snug, but he didn't have much choice in the way of civilian attire. Darra had assured him, a little strongly, that it looked 'fine.' What she had actually said was 'damn fine,' which was basically the same, right?
She turned to him and said, "Let's dance!" He allowed her to pull him into the center of the crowd. He was oblivious to the stares of his fellow dancers, but she wasn't. She knew that she was currently dancing with the hottest guy in the whole place. Everyone wanted to be her. And she wasn't going to let anyone else get a piece of her action tonight. She had waited a long time for a chance like this.
Ferus and Tru met them with drinks, and they all threw back the shots. "Next round is on you, Skywalker," Ferus shouted over the ear-splitting music. Anakin nodded, not giving Ferus the satisfaction of rattling him over something so trivial. However, the growing ranks of people circling them on the floor was not trivial. Tru, Ferus, and Darra were being jostled from all sides by dancers who wanted to get closer to Anakin. Darra finally had to catch onto his hand to get the Togruta female that was pestering her to move just a little further that way to stop. Anakin twirled Darra with their hands over her head. Ha, she thought, take that!
Anakin was just starting to have fun. When the song ended, he made his way to the bar for the next round. As he leaned up on the rail, he suddenly felt a hand on his backside. He turned quickly to find the Togruta from the dance floor had followed him.
"Hello," she purred. "Haven't seen you in here before." She fingered her lekku and batted her long eyelashes at him. "What's your name, honey?"
"Oh, ah, hey, I'm Anakin," he stammered a reply. She was awfully forward, grabbing him like that. He didn't know what to think about it. "Yeah, I haven't been here before. I came with some friends." Totally lame, he thought.
"Well, would you like to leave with a new friend?" she asked him as she brushed her breasts up against him and smiled slowly.
Anakin was preparing a sharp retort when Darra appeared out of nowhere. "Back off, sweetie," she said as she placed one forefinger on the Togruta's shoulder. "He's with me." Darra settled onto the barstool next to Anakin and wrapped a possessive arm around his waist. Anakin was really amused now. What the Sith hell was happening?
"No need to get pushy. Just making new friends," the Togruta said as she turned and strutted away into the crowd.
Anakin looked from the Togruta's vanishing back to Darra sitting next to him and still touching him. "What just happened?" he asked her. She giggled and his anger started to rise.
"Oh, Anakin, you have no idea how cute you are, do you?" she asked him with slight exasperation. "She was hitting on you! Haven't you ever been hit on before?"
Anakin frowned a little. He didn't want to admit that he had little experience in clubs of this sort. He had attended any number of social functions attached to missions, but they were a lot more controlled than the current environment. Not that he hadn't had to put off some rather pushy diplomats in his time, but stang! This was a different caliber altogether.
He laughed it off, "Oh, I know that! I meant, what are you doing?" Now it was Darra's turn to be a little embarrassed. She resentfully pushed at him with both hands.
"Hey, next time, I'll just let her have you then. Far be it for me to help you out," she pouted and crossed her arms. His drink order arrived, and she threw back the nearest shot to cover her discomfort. "I'm going back out there," she said and jumped down off of the stool to wade back onto the dance floor.
Anakin followed her with the three remaining shots in his hands above his head, trying to avoid spilling them. By the time he got back to the other three, he saw Tru and Feris both had new dance partners. Darra looked a little lost. Anakin felt a little bad for how he had spoken to her. After he off-loaded the other two shots and drank his own, he joined her. Her face lit up as he started to rub up against her in the manner he had observed other dancers adopting.
They spent the next two songs dancing and laughing, twirling and swaying. When the next song turned out to be a ballad, Darra grabbed onto Anakin's waist before he could escape. She laid her cheek against his chest. His arms rested loosely on her upper arms. He was a little off-put again by her proximity. Plus, he was pretty sure that he was starting to smell from the sweat beading up everywhere on his overheated body.
She stirred against him, and he looked down into her eyes. They were a little glassy. She was apparently as unused to drink as he was-the difference being his size compared to hers. He gave her a wan smile; she gave him a fully inebriated one in return. Anakin started to look for Tru to ask what he should do with a drunk Darra. She started to sway heavily in his arms as he turned around in a circle. Where was Tru? Darra's laugh was sounding more shrill and desperate now. Anakin looked back down at her, perplexed at her behavior.
But he wasn't to be enlightened any time soon as she reached up and pulled him down in a sloppy kiss. Anakin was surprised. He had never imagined Darra acting like this. Was it the alcohol? Or was it something else? As gently as he could, he peeled her arms from around his neck and separated their lips. He held onto her hands and looked into her face.
"Darra?" he asked, the discomfort of what she had done written all over his face.
"Oh, Force," she replied, shame suffusing her face. "I'm sorry, Anakin."
"No, I'm sorry," he said to her. "I didn't know . . ."
She shook her head violently and cut him off, "No, no, there's no reason you would. I'm going to go to the 'fresher. Please let me go, Anakin" She was pleading with him.
He released her immediately, and she fled from him. He stood still amid the swirling motion of life around him. Then he hung his head and clenched his fists, feeling his anger building and yet trying to hold onto it as his Master wished. Vape it! What had happened? This night out on his own was becoming a rousing disaster. And he just couldn't figure out why. Was it something he said or did? When he was with his Master, she never acted the way Darra had.
The thought of his Master, so far away, suddenly made him feel even more at loose ends. What was he doing here? He was going to be a father. He was going to be a Jedi. And he definitely was not interested in kissing Darra. She was his friend. If he was going to kiss anyone, it was going to be . . .
Anakin brought his thoughts up short. That way lies no salvation. Kiss Obi-Wan? His Master? No, he wouldn't contemplate such an act. He didn't need Olin to tell him how far outside the Code that would be. Obi-Wan would never be a party to such a thing either. Would she? No! he scolded himself, scowling more deeply.
His eyes finally landed on Tru and his new lady friend. Sidling up to Tru, Anakin pulled him apart from the girl. "Darra went to the 'fresher. Can you go check on her? I'm heading back to the Temple. I'm not feeling well." It wasn't entirely a lie. He felt pretty crappy in a lot of ways.
"Ok, Anakin, no problem. She gets like this a lot. Drinks, ends up in the 'fresher, crying, for hours. She'll be all right once the alcohol works through her system a little." Tru gave him a sympathetic smile. Anakin wondered if he had seen Darra kiss him.
"Okay. Thanks, man. I'll talk to you," Anakin said noncommittally. He was suddenly fixated on what he didn't want to fixate on: Obi-Wan and her lips. Her soft lips. And her creamy skin. And how her hair would work loose from the twist on the back of her head and just brush against her cheeks before she tucked it behind her ear.
Stang, he thought. Where is all of this coming from? But his foremost thought was to get home to his own bedroom. He felt overwhelmingly tired.
By the time Anakin arrived back at his quarters, his sweatiness was starting to really bother him. Guess I'll hit the 'fresher before bed then, he decided. But when he walked into the room, he was arrested by the image presented to him by the mirror. He searched his face to figure out what had happened this evening. The women at the bar, Darra . . . was he attractive? He had never really thought about it. He spent so little time looking at himself and so much time looking at . . . Obi-Wan. Now she was beautiful.
At that thought, Anakin felt something spike inside of him. A trill of nerves shot from his stomach down into his groin. Was that the booze, he wondered. He shook his head to clear it, undressed and climbed under the hot water. Wash it all away, Skywalker. Tomorrow's a new day.
But he was surprised to find that his cock had no intention of letting anything go for that long. Half-hard already, the hot water splashing on his skin just heightened the sensations already coursing through him. He closed his eyes and tried not to picture what his subconscious had been serving up all night. Obi-Wan. He missed her. That was nothing new. She was his closest friend. But this arousal was almost completely foreign to him.
Not foreign entirely. There had been fumblings with some girls. Not Darra, but other girls. Darra was more like one of the guys in their group. Anakin had never seen her as more than a buddy. She had obviously been thinking otherwise. The thought of his rejection of her went a little way toward dampening his ardor. He would talk to her about it. Smooth it over-somehow. Since there was no way to fix it right now, he decided to return to more, pleasurable, thoughts.
He ran his soapy hands down his torso and imagined what it would feel like if they were someone else's hands. All smooth and slippery across his skin. And as his hands approached his lower abdomen, he bumped into the head of his now fully-engorged member. Well, he thought, I guess that settles that argument. Wrapping his hands around himself, he began a languorous pace up and down the shaft. He could take his time since no one would be interrupting him tonight.
Bracing himself against the wall of the 'fresher with the other hands, he let his head fall forward under the spray of water. His legs spread out to brace himself. It was always tricky losing control and trying not to fall in the slippery shower stall. A low moan escaped him as he began to explore these new feelings about his Master. What would it feel like to have her kiss him? To feel the skin of her body pressed against his? In his fantasy, it felt very arousing, but he knew that the real thing might be different. He had known her for eleven years. She had raised him, for Force's sake. And although he had never seen her as his mother-he had had a mother he remembered-she hadn't been an object of sexual fantasy before either.
Despite these misgivings, Anakin was still aroused enough to bring himself to completion, groaning into the water. He quickly washed himself again and stepped out of the stall. Toweling himself off roughly, he walked to his bedroom, pulled on a pair of sleep pants, and stretched out on his bed. He laid that way for a while, looking at the bare ceiling with his eyes but not really seeing it. He was replaying countless memories of himself and his Master. Training, arguing, laughing, eating, surviving. All of the intense emotions; all of the flashes of passion. There was definitely enough of that to spare between the two of them.
But sexual passion? He wasn't sure. Would Obi-Wan ever entertain such a notion, child or not? Did he want to entertain it as more than a nice image after a night of drinking and rubbing against sweaty, sexually-charged strangers? He wasn't sure. He was tired. He rolled over and let sleep take him.
