It was the fourth month of his exile and the third week of his new job. Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi found he was enjoying stripping, as long as he didn't think about it. What he enjoyed was the credits he was fast accumulating, and the food he was able to eat on a regular basis. The information he overheard was a bonus.
Maybe the Credit Union's takeover in a hostile acquisition, which had caused him to lose access to all his funding, was a gift of the Force. Not exactly welcomed, perhaps, but the Force worked in mysterious ways. Not only was it providing him a means of survival, it was providing valuable tips that would help him in his primary goal – protecting young Luke Skywalker.
Already, the Jedi Master had learned much. Unfortunately, first and foremost, he had learned that a certain female bounty hunter had taken it upon herself to watch him. Unfortunately, that meant she was at both shifts, every night. Staring. Smiling. And tipping very well.
The Jedi Master wished she wore a concealing mask, not just a partial face mask. It was quite unnerving to see the hungry look in her face; the face of a hunter faced with its prey.
There was nothing soft or feminine about her. Her lithe body was clad in moderately loose clothing that neither revealed or concealed her figure. The clothing allowed mobility without hindrance, yet foiled any accurate descriptions to any witnesses. Her hair was concealed within a tight cap, giving no hint of its color, texture or length.
It was a real downer. But he had to uphold his act. He could not give less than his best, no matter what he was doing.
Lately, Obi-Wan had an uneasy feeling that she was stalking him. It was the way she looked him over, top to bottom. Licking her lips as if in anticipation of her reward. It made Obi-Wan very uneasy, so he avoided visiting the Lars and young Luke.
She's got her eyes on you, Qui-Gon spoke in his mind one evening.
Duh – you just noticed? Obi-Wan thought back.
Touchy, are we? There was amusement in the thought.
No touching allowed! Obi-Wan was adamant on that. House rules.
Not to say Jedi training! Though there was that time….
I don't need to hear that, Qui-Gon! We both know celibacy was never required. Though you never hesitated to break any rule when you thought it…necessary.
Touche! Though entertaining young ladies was not exactly encouraged.
I do what I must to survive. You're the one who encouraged me! Obi-Wan kicked Qui-Gon out of his mind and swept onto stage for the second shift. He was very conscious of the bounty hunter. She was sitting at a table right next to the stage, eyes intently fixed on him. He could sense she was preparing for action. Soon. He ended his turn, as always, by whipping out his lightsaber as the lights dimmed around him.
In its glow, he saw the bounty hunter get to her feet. He gave a start as she clamped one gauntleted hand on ...
… his arm and hauled him into a seat at her table. She slid the hand on his arm up to his shoulder, traced the curve of his neck up to his chin and tilted his head back to stare deeply into his surprised blue-grey eyes. Obi-Wan bit his lip and tried to look innocent, not like a wanted fugitive with something to hide.
Not that he could hide anything, working as a stripper. It tended to be a very revealing line of work. He tried to avoid looking down in confirmation.
"Hey handsome, let me buy you a drink," she purred. It was the purr of a Denebian Devilcat, full of menace and deep threats. This bounty hunter was determined to get her man, coiled and ready to make her move.
"Uh, no, thank you," Obi-Wan declined with the utmost politeness. If she were planning to blast him, he would need all his wits about him. Besides, until she actually did try to blast him, there was no reason not to be polite. More than anything, Obi-Wan hated rudeness.
It had been four months since the titanic duel that had ripped apart Master and former Padawan, leaving Obi-Wan striving to stay afloat in the heaving sea that was now the galaxy, as the Empire ripped apart the Republic like a behemoth tearing apart a ship. That ship of friendship had sunk, never to rise again.
Four months, and the Jedi Master was still huffy about Anakin's rudeness, not to mention his betrayal, there on Mustafar. He could have fought Obi-Wan, burst into flames, even proclaimed his hate for Obi-Wan, without having to be so rude about it.
Would it have hurt him to scream, "Sorry, but I hate you?"
But, noooooooo, Anakin just had to scream, "I hate you," like a child.
Obi-Wan would have liked to have reminded him how politeness always paid off, but had decided to let him learn his own lesson on how lack of manners erupted in one's face. Let his bursting into flames be the last lesson that he would teach Anakin.
Surfacing from those disturbing memories of the past to the disturbing context of the present, the Jedi reached into the Force. Thus distracted, he failed to respond as the bounty hunter made her next move.
"Gawww, ack," he mumbled as his lips were smushed by hot lips as she plastered herself against him, pinning him against the chair. His hands flailed helplessly in the air as he tried to grab some air. Even more disturbing than his inability to breathe; her gauntleted hand was reaching for his lightsaber. This was just wrong. No one should interfere with a man's tools.
Calling on the Force with all his energy, Obi-Wan sprang into the air. The bounty hunter was quick, though, and she snagged his ankle and slammed him back into the seat he had just vacated.
Gaw, more rudeness, he thought bitterly. To make it worse, she had pinned him to the chair and was planting another one on him. Without so much as a by your leave, or pretty please may I.
Obi-Wan managed to wrest his face away from hers and take a deep breath, but she captured his face again and planted more wet kisses on him.
Obi-Wan, Jedi Master, began to panic. He was not trained to combat this kind of threat. The Jedi Order had never contemplated such a threat to a Jedi and come up with countermeasures. Obi-Wan was on his own. The Jedi Master was resisting her frontal attack with everything he had.
Hey, Jedi, getting' some action? Qui-Gon's chuckles beat in his ears. You haven't seen much action since Mustafar, certainly nothing like this. By the Force, she really wants your lightsaber.
I…I beg your pardon! The beleaguered Jedi Master gasped desperately, again surfacing from a kiss.
Use your lightsaber, Qui-Gon suggested helpfully.
Qui-Gon! I can't believe you're trying to tell me to, oh! Obi-Wan gasped in horror, only to turn bright red with mortification. Qui-Gon meant his lightsaber, not his, ah, lightsaber. This job was corrupting him. Yoda would not be pleased if he knew.
The little Master would be quite severe with Obi-Wan. "Your lightsaber, for defense only. Not entertainment. Not to impress young females."
Remind Qui-Gon, not me, Obi-Wan thought bitterly, even as he fought bitterly to keep his lightsaber out of the bounty hunter's grasp. And his lips; they were bruising. She was plastering him with kisses.
Obi-Wan didn't really want to use his lightsaber in full sight of all the patrons, even sitting in the dim corner as he was. His skill with it would almost certainly give him away, as only a fully trained Jedi in touch with the Force could wield one with any skill. Unfortunately, right now he was more in touch with this female than the Force, much to his dismay. He needed a weapon, but not a Jedi's weapon.
Could he talk himself out of this situation? Was his skill with words as strong as his skill with his lightsaber? He had to try. If he could free his mouth enough to get words out. If her tongue - ah, she had let his mouth escape as she nibbled her way up to his earlobes. He had had no idea that a tongue could be so potent a weapon prior to this, not having used his in such a manner.
"Ah, ma'am, if you don't mind, please inform me why you are so intent on bruising my face?"
The bounty hunter pulled back and stared coolly into his puzzled and embarrassed eyes. She held his gaze for a long moment, then slid off his lap and gave a sudden snort of laughter. Without a word, she turned and walked jauntily out of the bar.
Obi-Wan Kenobi had very good ears, so he heard what she muttered into a commlink.
"He's not a Jedi, that's for sure. No reflexes, no attempt to even use his lightsaber in defense, was flustered and unable to defend himself. Must have stolen or found that lightsaber somewhere. No way he could be a Jedi. Waste of my time."
Obi-Wan smiled. A gust of wind had come in with the bounty hunters exit just as he was thinking, good, I wasn't exposed, but as the cool breeze brushed against him he looked down, only to blush again. His identity may not have been exposed, but, the same couldn't be said for, ah, him. He pulled his cloak tightly around him in concealment. Now, and only now, he had no fear of exposure.
