Author's Note: Wow, it has been a long time. I very much doubt that I have any fanbase left for this story, but I just found a bunch of posts that I never posted back when I was more actively writing it…so….here you are. Thanks for sticking around!

"...oh..." I felt curiously numb, frozen.

"Oh!" Qui-Gon repeated, giving me what I supposed was the equivalent of a disgusted look. His lightsaber was already out and moving. "Get behind me, watch my back!"

"Yeah, okay!" I darted behind him, as the first few darts and bolts began to fly. I held my blaster tightly, too terrified to shot it, but unwilling to let it go. Qui-Gon made up for me, however, returning just as many shots of theirs as he could. A few tribesmen fell, but they were soon replaced by others. It seemed a whole warparty was out for our blood.

"This is what I meant by failed negotiations!" Qui-Gon panted, struggling to keep up with the velocity of the shots. "There are just too many—" he yelped, as a blaster bolt grazed his side.

I cringed behind, him, ducking as a few stray shots passed over us. "So what do we do now?"

Qui-Gon turned, slightly, then inclined his head to a rocky outcropping a little ways away. "Well—" He ducked, and sent a bolt backward to slay its shooter. "I..." The war party advanced closer in. "Hmm..."

I was beginning to fully panic now. "Ah-this is just great, just great, I get hit by a truck, wake up in wacko land, and my Jedi supervisor DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!" I shrieked as a smoldering dart landed near my feet.

Qui-Gon nodded to me. "Ah, but I do have a plan." He nodded once more, sending another blast back to its sender. "We're going to make a run for it, cover me!" He turned and ran toward the rocks, grabbing my wrist as he passed. "Come on!"

I squeaked and took off after him, bumping and tripping over the gravel. I think Qui-Gon's so-called 'plan' must have been to take shelter amongst the rocky outcrop, but suffice to say, we didn't get very far. Qui-Gon would probably say it was my fault, but unfortunately for him, that's a lie, and it is my understanding that liars go to hell.

Anyway, we didn't get very far, because right about then Qui-Gon got shot in the back of the leg. He had told me to watch his back, and so I was watching his back. He never said 'watch my back—and my legs.' I think it was his fault, for not being clear. But whatever. He got shot.

Qui-Gon went down like a felled log. In retrospect, I felt pretty bad, to be honest, because he gave the saddest, most pathetic little yelp and tripped as the bolt impacted. But at the time pity or blame was the farthest thing from my mind. I have this beautiful, deep-rooted streak of self-preservation, and it was sort of on overdrive at the moment. The one with the lightsaber had just crumbled like some form of stale graham cracker, and the warparty was closing in on me fast.

However, accident, it seems, can be the fool's savior. It wasn't a pretty move, but it saved both of our lives. I actually ran into Qui-Gon's crumpled form, tripped, and fell into one of the clumps of scraggly bushes that dotted the landscape so frequently.

I hit the dust pretty hard, and it knocked the wind out of me for a moment, giving me time to think. I could hear the whoops of the hunting party getting closer and closer, and managed to curl up closer to my bush. Perhaps if I hid under the bush, they might over look me... It was unlikely, but at this point, I just wanted a place to hide.

In an uncharacteristic wave of pity and compassion, I grabbed for Qui-Gon. "Under here, come on!"

Amazingly, he was still alive...well...perhaps not so much amazingly, since it was only a leg wound-but still! I was vaguely impressed. The Jedi glared at me, and then wiggled his body forward until we were both concealed under the thorny shrubbery.

The natives appeared to be really, really stupid. I could hear them yelling up a storm, and even felt the breeze as they rushed past on either side, but no one seemed to realize that our disappearance hadn't been exactly intentional. Clearly they suspected some form of witchcraft, and headed off toward the rocky outcropping screaming bloody murder to the sky. I resisted a little chuckle. Qui-Gon shot daggers at me.

Neither of us dared speak for a long moment. The war cries faded into the background, and the dust began to settle. I twanged a bit of the thorny branch back and forth to amuse myself while I waited for the all-clear.

Finally Qui-Gon spoke. His voice was a pained whisper. What a wimp.

"...Charm...you..." he closed his eyes, seemingly trying to compose himself. "...I told you to...watch my...back..."

I shrugged, flicking the branch at him from my position on the ground. "Yeah, I did, I was watching! You got shot. I saw..." I nodded, as if to reassure him of this.

He gave me another look of disgust, and shifted, rolling onto his back with a gasp of pain. For a moment, he lay there panting, apparently trying to regain that elusive composure. Then he spoke again. "Are they gone?"

"I think so. Maaaaan, you must have made them really, really mad."

He ignored that, and chewed his lip for a moment. "So, some of them had blasters apparently." I think he was more talking to himself than to me. "so perhaps they have other technology..." His bright blue eyes roved across the scrappy desert for a moment, finally resting with haunting certainty on me. "Charm."

I swallowed, his intense gaze made me uneasy. I knew it. I was about to be used as some form of a twisted Quiggy pawn, like Anakin in Episode 1. "Um, yeah?"

He nodded toward the direction where the men had come. "They'll be back soon, so you're going to need to hurry. I think once they realize we didn't magically transport ourselves to the rocks, they'll come back and do a double sweep. I know I hit some of them, there should be bodies." The Jedi took a breath. "I need you to crawl over to the bodies-mind that you keep your head down-and find me a comlink. Then we can contact my Master and he'll come...take care of things."

I laughed humorlessly. The pain and heat was obviously getting to the poor boy. I snapped the branch at him again. "Heh! You're kidding, right!"

He just stared at me. "No."

Again, I laughed. "Um, no?"

"No..."

"By no, to my question of no, you mean yes, you are kidding, right?"

"No."

"I can't."

"Why?"

I stalled. "...well, heh, see, darling, I have this blood phobia..."

"Phobia?"

"Phobia, it means, like, fear..."

"I know what it means!"

"Well, I kind of do this whole...passy-out thing, when I see blood, so your whole, um, 'crawl amid the corpses' thing isn't going to work out so well."

"Not going to work out so well!" He glared at me incredulously. "Do you want to die or not!"

I squeaked, and crouched further into the bush. "...not particularly..."

"Then get out there!"

My heart was skipping like my cracked Episode 2 Soundtrack CD. "But-don't you think you should go instead? I don't know how to work a comlink! I can't even get my cell phone to work half the time! In fact-what am I talking about-I don't even have a cell phone!"

He smirked and motioned to his leg. "I would go get it, but you got me shot, do you recall?"

I glared at him. "Qui-Gon, I don't even know what a comlink looks like! I'm not from Star Wars world, remember!"

He gave me another odd look. "Are you on spice?" The boy shook his head wearily. "Look, please, just do as I tell you. Or we both die. Just crawl out there. I'll give you directions from there."

I clung to my bush. He couldn't make me. Desperation made gave me strength; panic filled my sugar-water veins with strange purpose. "No-no-no-no-no—"

"Charm, please." He nodded toward the bodies. "It's unpleasant, I know, but it could save our lives. Just go have a look...you're being irrational..."

"Your face is irrational!" I retorted, shocking myself with my own wit. "anyway, I'm telling you, I don't know what a comlink looks like–"

"Go." He waved his hand at me, and narrowed his eyes. "And don't lie to me."

"Oh, yeah, ha! Like that's gonna happe–" I stopped midstream. I suddenly wanted very badly to go crawl around those bodies and find a comlink. Something good was going to happen if I did, and something very bad would happen if I didn't. And sure, I didn't know what a comlink looked like, exactly, but I had seen the movies, hadn't I? Oh yeah, I had. And, oh, my calendar back at home had a picture of Qui-Gon talking into his to Obi-Wan, wow, at this point Obi-Wan wasn't even born yet, was he? Nope, not yet, but in the picture Qui-Gon's comlink was kinda grey-lookin' and it was shiny, and didn't I read about an interview with Lucas saying Qui-Gon's comlink was actually a women's razor they had tweaked to look like a comlink, haha, a women's razor, I wonder if Liam shaved with it—ooooh, Liam----

I stopped. Strangely enough, I was in the middle of the battleground, digging through a dead tribe member's pack. I blinked. How had this come about? I shook my head to clear it, and glanced back toward Qui-Gon. He was looking pleased with himself.

No way.

I looked around desperately for something to throw at him. He hadn't. He couldn't. Ohhh, man, if he had mind-tricked me, I was going to have to break his face, attractive as it may be. My fingers closed around a small metal device, and I wound my arm up to hurl it at him. Qui-Gon began to motion wildly at me. Perhaps he guessed my intentions. I smiled. Oh no, Quigs, you're going down.

Suddenly, the makeshift missel in my hand beeped. I stared at it questioningly. Shiny rocks didn't beep. Ooooh, yes, this must have been the sought after comlink. I continued to make as if to throw it, just to watch Jinn panic. Little twit, mindtricking me—

"Charm! Stop messing around and listen...you're going to need to change the frequency of the link, and punch in my Master's code–can you do that?"

"Okay, what now?" I stopped tormenting him long enough to a look at the device. "how do I change the frequency?"

"Push the triangular button until there's a channel with no static..."

"What button?" I studied it.

"The one shaped like a triangle."

"I don't see it."

He sighed, I heard it, even from the distance. "Every comlink has one. It's a little button on the side shaped like a triangle."

"Nope."

I could hear the frustration in his voice. "Charm, it's there!"

"No, it isn't there. There is no triangular button on this thing." I paused. "There's a entry pad, and a diamond-shaped one on the side you're talking about, but there are no triangles anywhere."

"The diamond-shaped one! That's what I was talking about!"

"Triangles and diamonds are very different, Qui-Gon." I lectured. "Apparently Geometry was not chief on the Temple training agenda, no?"

"Just press the button until there's a channel with no static."

"The kite-shaped button?"

"...whichever one we've just been talking about..."

I pushed the button until there was a satisfactory channel to use. "Next?"

"Put in the code, please. My Master's code for his link is 06071952."

I typed as quickly as I could, beginning to get jittery, as if I'd eaten too much rock candy. I was about to speak with Dooku. The Count Dooku. Oh, good times indeed.

The number clicked through, and I felt like bouncing. I don't suppose it would be too good an idea, with all the secrecy and creeping around and stuff, but I was that excited! Dooku was my hero. He was all...bitter, and dark and angsty. That was hot. Well, not exactly, but-

"Master Dooku, here." The dark velvet voice suddenly broke through the frantic prattle of my thoughts. And my mind went utterly and completely blank in that eternal moment.

There was a long pause over the link while I tried to regain my breath and think of something to say. Something hot, and intelligent, I thought. I wanted to impress him. It was Count Dooku, he was a good guy to be chummy with. But even when I had decided to settle with 'hello,' my lips wouldn't cooperate with me. Hmm. This was a problem I had never had before.

The tone was dry, unamused. "Hello? Who is this?" A heavy sigh. "Is this some sort of joke?" He must have been able to hear my breathing through the connection. I could tell he was about to hang up, and a little blip of impulsiveness I finally replied.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeiiiiiiii! Count Dook!" My word choice might have been a little better, in retrospect.

I could hear utter incredulousness in his voice now. "What!"

"DookyDookDookDook-" I was singing. Again, I might have been a bit more sophisticated.

"Who is this!"

"Oh!" I stopped, trying to come back to myself. I was out-of-control again. Sith, but he had a very sexy voice. "My name's Charm! I already know yours, it's Count Master Dooku, but sometimes we call you Yan, and stuff, because no one in fanfiction really knows your first name! Dude, do you have a first name? Or is it kinda like, that singer'Cher,' or you know, 'Bono' with just one name? Anyway-I'm a big fan of your work, totally dig it."

I think somewhere in Star Wars world history, I broke a record of some kind. Master Dooku had been rendered speechless.

I plunged on heedlessly. "-so, I'm really looking forward to meeting you and stuff, oh, and could I have your autograph, and one for my friends Jurious and Kynstar too? They're Dook fans too. But yeah, thanks! And if you don't have paper with you, you can always just sign my-"

"How did you get this number!" he sputtered out. I could almost feel his blood pressure rising, even over the connection. It was probably my intimidating aura of hotness affecting him. I got that a lot. It was always hard to be the beautiful one.

"Oh, Qui-Gon gave it to me, no worries!" I assured him, laughing a little. I could vaguely see in the background of my Dooku-induced bliss, Qui-Gon lying under the bush making all sorts of gestures at me. Funny little boy. "He got shot, by the way. He might be cute but he's pretty dumb. Just so you know ahead of time, he'll probably blame the whole getting-shot-thing on me, you know, with him being a constant and perpetual liar."

"Qui-Gon's injured!"

"Yeah, I actually saved his life. I guess you two owe me what you call a life debt!" I chuckled obviously.

"Just tell me what happened to my Padawan." He growled through the link. "Is he alright?"

"He won't shut up, or keep the force to himself, so I'm sure he'll live." I glanced toward Qui-Gon and stuck my tongue out at him. I was still miffed about the mind trick.

Dooku's voice was somewhat disdainful. "And just who are you, again?"

"Charm." I could feel my face growing red. There was a lengthy pause over the connection. I frowned. "Charm from Washington, DC." I chewed my lip. "I work in a coffee shop. Um, do you like coffee?"

Qui-Gon's voice cut through mine. "Master, if you can hear me, please ignore Charm! I've been injured and can't quite move, but trace my coordinates from the comlink signal, and please find us. We don't have a lot of time to work with!"

Dooku was silent a moment, and I heard a beep as he traced us. "Right-tell Qui-Gon I shall be there shortly, if that's not too much for you." He murmured distractedly.

I glowered at the comlink, as if somehow my angry eyes could shoot through the metal and make him feel guilty about being short with me. "Hey, listen punk, you think I can't handle telling Quiggy something then you have another thing coming, why don't you just stick that little attitude into your lightsaber and SMOKE IT!"

Dooku said nothing. I don't think he could think of anything to say. I had really showed him, I think.

"Charm!" Qui-Gon yelled suddenly.

I spun. "Oh, what is it now!" A little zip of something went over my head, and I screamed. "Qui-Gon, you jerk-my gosh-did you just throw..." I paused mid-rant, terror suddenly drying out my words. "...oh..." I swallowed. "...fuzzy." The war party had found us again.

Through a cloud of dust, I could see big floppy animals that looked like some horrible deer/horse/camel cross charging towards us. Splendid of splendidness! This time, they had mounts! As the thundering of hooves rose in my ears, and I felt the desperate desire to flee for my life and leave Qui to his stompy doom.

Just when I had decided to run for it, Qui-Gon moved. It was times like these I was glad I was with a Jedi.

Instead of hiding, Qui-Gon hardly flinched, pushing himself up valiantly and igniting his saber. The creatures the tribesmen were riding screeched in alarm at the sudden beam of glowing light from out of nowhere. I didn't see where he was going with the whole lightsaber waving bit, until the panicked animals broke formation. Woo! Qui and Charm, one; angry mob of tribesmen and weird looking horse-things, zero! I scurried over to hide behind Qui-Gon, as it seemed the safest place to be.

He sensed me, and spoke, his voice shaking. "Charm-please pay attention to me, your life depends on it-" I could of rolled my eyes. No duh I would pay attention. He was really dumb sometimes. I mean-what else was I going to be paying attention to, it's not like–oh, he was still talking. "-I can't last long, here, just place your back against mine, and..." The pieces began to click.

"You're going to use me as your kick stand!"

"Charm, or I'll fall over, and you can't fight!" he squeaked, watching the natives regroup.

"I resent that generalization!"

"But, you can't!"

"I am rubber, you are glue, what ever you say bounces off of me and sticks to--"

"Just-ah!" his leg went out, and I darted forward to catch him. A human shield isn't very good if it's not standing up straight.

"Qui-Gon!" I whined to him, clinging to his limp form. "Protect me!"

"Charm!" He seemed almost angry now. I found that pretty amusing, to be honest. I would have taunted him if it hadn't been for the whole mortal peril situation. "Were you even listening to me in the slightest! I can't stand. Just let me lean against you, I can block shots from this direction, and you can use your blaster to cover the other side. Do you understand?"

"Um, yeah, don't worry Qui-Gon, I'll protect you from the scary horses."

"What are you even talking about?"

The tribe had gotten their rides under control, and seemed to be reforming for another charge. I felt myself beginning to panic. "Um, I'm talking about...ah..." The horse-creatures reared up, and a couple of them made scary snorty noises. Yeah, they were definitely about to charge. Hmm. Change of tactics time. "Qui-Gon, your plan sucks!" I screamed, leaping away from him and into the open. "I'm running for it! Every woman for herself time!" I took off with several huge leaps. I hadn't really gotten but five foot from Qui-Gon when I heard the ominous hiss of darts-yes-darts, plural, flying at me. Um, whoops.

I don't even really remember hitting the ground.