Anakin, I'm Only Dancing

CHAPTER 2: Discovering David

Our heroes are stationed on the dance floor, looking out for a so called "David Bowie." Bright lights flashed off their sculpted hair and finely curved cheek bones. Mick acutely ignored Obi-Wan's light touching of his ass, and Obi-Wan ignored the fact that an obese Twi-lek lady in nothing but a tabard was massaging his own ass cheek.

Kenobi was truly a slave to his new love of Mick, his heart filled with intoxication in every gaze, he could hardly tear away his stare to look for this Bowie character, such intoxication as this he couldn't find words for! It wasn't a though in his mind, it was a pure desire in his hard pelvic zone.

"I see im over there!" Mick's voluptuous large lips parted to say these words and Obi-Wan let out a glittery gasp that was very unlike him.

Mick was looking past some bouncing nub-nub creatures, around the neck of a Quermian, and there was the golden-fox of a God! The electricity bolt of red—striking down the man's face, over his sapphire eye, and pointing down, down, to a tight fitted outfit of space-chic. Mick's excitement showed throughout his body, and he sauntered over to David, discovering him at last.

"You make me hard when you dance like that." Mick the robot said quite seriously as soon as he was against David Bowie.

"And why are you here?"

"I was sent to find you."

David looked around nervously, "By whom?"

"This big group o' freaky creatures, there was a midgy green 'un-"

"Yoda." Piped Kenobi.

"-An' a freaky bird with fat danglin' offa her head-"

"Staas Ali."

"And a baldfox-"

"Mace Windu."

"And this 'un here." Mick jerked his sex thumb at Obi-Wan.

Obi didn't introduce himself.

Bowie turned his mismatched sex eyes on Kenobi.

Obi still didn't introduce himself.

They stared at eachother. Lust was in the air. David's lightning bolt wiggled and flashed.

"Oh my god, what was that?" Obi-Wan yelled.

"That was my lightning bolt, child. May I ask your name?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Bowie just stared at him some more. "Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Yes."

"Yes." Bowie turned back to Mick. "How did you come to be in this time, old friend?"

"Pahaps, you'd like to sit down for a drink, it's a long story."

Bowie nodded his head toward the bar.

"No, no, some where quiet," said Mick, "Let's go ta my flat."

Obi-Wan stared at him, confusion concealed behind his Jedi mask; he must be talking about Anakin's apartment.

"Wait, wait, wait." David leaned into Mick Jagger's face until they were nose to nose, "What are you trying at Mick. I won't take this sheit of yours."

The serious tone of David's voice made Obi-Wan's chest prickle, and Mick swelled up out of his body.

"David, I'm not pullin' anything!" He sounded quite incompetent, "You need to come with me."

David pulled backward more and more as Mick spoke, denying him, pulling a cape around his body and getting ready to leave Mick very, very, far behind.

"Mick, I don't need to know why you are here. I am here for the sensuous music, you are obviously here for the same old reasons as always, or if you are not up to your cock-games, than you are here to imprison me with your order of aliens. I leave you." He said this all with a cold stoic quality that left Mick dumbfounded.

"No," Obi-Wan said coolly, adopting his Jedi posture, "what Mick means is, we need to talk about some things, so you aren't hunted down. And it is best if we talk of them in quiet. You have my word, we won't take any action that could in any way harm you until we discuss this matter thoroughly."

Mick looked from the Masterful Obi-Wan to David, who was locked in a staredown.
"Come to Mick's flat." Obi hinted only slightly on force persuasion.

Amazingly... Amazingly... Bowie blinked first.

Mick's jaw dropped. This was unheard of! Ol' Davey boy was never... ever defeated in stare-downs. Mick's eyes slid over to the bearded wonder. That was a good name for him, Mick decided. Maybe there was more to the bearded wonder than meets the eye.

It seemed that Bowie recognized his conquering. He nodded his head in acquiescence. "Lead the way, O Bearded One."

Obi-Wan cocked a thick and luscious eyebrow, but said nothing about the nickname. Instead he turned to Mick. "Do you even know where your flat is?" He tried to keep his voice unreadable, if not cold, but couldn't help his eyes flicking downward to Mick's beautiful pants-monster (that was obviously restrained far too tightly. Maybe I can help the poor creature, Obi thought with a mental smirk).

"Ah... That'd be a problem, wouldn't it? Nah, we could always hop on up to some bird's nest, shag her, then kick her out for our meetin'." He was suddenly the recipient of two disdainful looks.

Obi shook his head. "That won't be necessary. I know the way. Follow me."

Mick cocked a beautifully unplucked eyebrow, shooting Kenobi a curious glance as they walked through the raised doorway. "An' how do you know the way when I don' even remembah what it looks like?"

Obi-Wan suddenly stopped, so that Mick almost ran into him. Of course he didn't, he was far too quick, but it was close. He watched in trepidation, almost fear (but not because Mick Jagger fears no man, woman or beast. Unless it was a combination of the three, like David Bowie. No man, woman or beast didn't fear David Bowie. But that's aside the point, Mick wasn't afraid) as Obi's smile grew and grew, until it was a positively sadistic leer. He was about to protest about the sudden halt, but was cut off.

"Yes... The apartment. I'm sure you'll have quite a fantastic time looking about. You might discover something you never knew about yourself."

"Wha'are y'on about?" Christ, the Bearded Wonder was starting to creep him out a little.

"No, never mind. You'll see when we get there." As they arrived at the parking garage, Obi-Wan turned to Bowie, about to point out his super-fine Jedi star cruiser- but WAIT! Bowie was GONE! Oh, shit. Now what were they supposed to do? Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose and turned to Mick.

Jagger let a small smile flit over his features, but straightened his face before BW could see him. He had a feeling that wouldn't be a great thing to do. "Ah, well, now ya done it. We ain't gonna see 'im anytime soon." He folded his arms and leaned onto one leg, his sly, foxy little hip jutting out.

"And if you know so much about him, how did you not notice him escape?"
"Don' you put this all on me, it ain't like you used your fuckin' bobby cuffs to keep 'im, didja?"

Obi-Wan looked up. I lost you at 'you used your.'"

"I said, 'It is not like you used your fucking police man handcuffs to secure our prisoner, did you?'" Mick restated in a pompous voice.

Obi-Wan glared. A glare that would have made Anakin either come in his pants or piss himself, depending on the time of the month. However, Mick was unaffected. Shame, he'd have liked to see a reaction, one way or the other. "I wouldn't, would I? We said we weren't going to arrest him."

Mick had forgotten that. He huffed and said, "Well, it ain't no use arguin' now, wa's over's over."

"You seem to misunderstand, Mister Jagger, we can't just leave because he walked away when our backs were turned. That is not how the Jedi operate. Will he be anywhere in the immediate vicinity?"

"Of course not, ya fuckin' wanker. He'll be all the way back to Amsterdam by now."
Kenobi raised his eyebrow. "Amsterdam? And where would this-"

"Figure o' speech." Mick lied. He wasn't going to explain Amsterdam to this wound up prude if he didn't already know.

"Ah. Of course. Anyways, let's just return to your flat, we can plan further from there." Obi knew that if he didn't search around, he'd get Hell from Yoda and the rest of those nerds, but he honestly didn't give a shit at the moment. All he wanted to do was take this deviant little minx back to the apartment and beat him into submission. His zipper monster attempted escape at the mere thought.

The ride home was tense and irritable. Mick was, surprisingly enough, a drama queen and he was still ticked about Whiskers trying to pin everything on him. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan was too horny to be patient.

They docked at the apartment complex and trotted down the halls to the apartment. Obi-Wan pulled out his keychain (it had a bearded smiley-face as one of the danglies) and popped his key into the door.

"An' how d'ya have my key?"

Obi-Wan just smiled. He pushed open the door.

Mick was speechless. He would never drop his manly guard and admit it, but the apartment was beautiful. Muscular men adorned the walls, framed in beauty. Plush carpets attempted to massage his toes through his boots. Furniture was spread out tastefully, practically screaming 'I take it up the ass!' He looked over to the stereo, and pressed the 'on' switch. The Supremes blasted from all directions. STOP! In the naaame of looooveee... he hurriedly shut it off, lest his image be tarnished by their entrancing lyrics. Mick turned to his furry compatriot. "I know this ain't my apartment."

"Oh, but it is." Obi-Wan turned smartly and waltzed into the kitchen. The Jedi smiled to himself, what fun this would be. Now, how to explain to Mick that he was a robot? Before or after sex? He opened the fridge and leant over to get some goat's milk. He closed the fridge and turned, only to find a knife at his throat and a finger to his lips.

Bowie shook his head silently, his locks swaying in a nonexistent but nonetheless flattering breeze.

Frozen, Obi-Wan assesed the situation. How did Bowie get here? How did he know where 'here' is? Where did he get a switchblade, they weren't even invented yet! Why did he come here, if he knew Obi was hostile? How did he find the time to change his clothes? Obi's locomotive of contemplation was derailed as he raked his eyes over the man's slim figure, swathed in black satin. Completely swathed in black satin- except his man boots. Shiny black something clung to his calves. Obi could see every detail of the man's body. The only thing that hadn't changed on the man was his lightning. Even his hair had gone from red to blonde. Shit, how am I going to compete with this? Mick won't even glance at me with this heathen around!

Bowie stepped around behind him, leaving the knife where it was. He slipped up close behind the Jedi, the shorter man could feel his satiny cold radiating against his back skin. Suddenly a long-fingered hand was between his legs, and he had to restrain himself from squeaking like a certain scarred Padawan as he was goosed out of his mind.

"Now move, my dear Jedi."

Obi dropped the milk on the counter as he walked stiff and bandy-legged through the door. How did Bowie know he was a Jedi?

"Get the salt, Mick."

"Whaaa?" Mick became startled from his comfortable nook of exotic fur and large headphones in which he listened to some "Moulin Rouge" soundtrack...god only knows what it was, but he liked it! Especially the man's voice who said, "We can be HEROES!!!!" He stood up abruptly, lanky legs all aquiver, "Davi, watch'ya doin here??"

Bowie hissed.

"Okay, the salt, the salt." Mick was running, he stripped off his T-shirt to cool off, and pranced for the salt again.

"And a fork." Came Bowie's satanic voice.

Obi-Wan's tongue tasted a whimper. His neck felt cold metal. What was happening to him?

He whimpered slightly louder, an "A" sound, "Shut up." Bowie hissed in his ear.
"Shut your wanker mouth."

"Here's the salt, Bowie. And a fork." Mick placed them in Bowie's bony outstretched hand, the violating one. "Now, David, I think you need to calm down," said Mick.

David shoved a handful of salt in Obi's throat, gagging, it scraped of Tatooine sand paper.
"You know nothing of calm O beastly one." David Bowie snarled.

Obi-Wan doubled over with stomach cramps. It took every ounce of the Force not to let the salt do its job. Once the nausea subsided slightly, he forced himself to straighten up.

The knife was gone from his throat- Bowie was standing next to Jagger, watching him with a curious expression. Obi eyed the two of them warily, sizing up his threat. Bowie wasn't letting on just how good he was; Obi could see that. He was going to be a problem.

And Mick- was it really that easy for him to betray Obi-Wan? His heart sunk horribly. He had hoped that his lust for Mick was at least somewhat mutual. Apparently he was wrong.

Obi-Wan decided he needed to know more about their tactics. "What is the fork for?" He rasped.

Bowie lifted it to eye level, watching it twirl between pale, spidery fingers. "Well, Jedi, normally one would have emptied his stomach by now, and I was planning on feeding it to you again. I suppose I'll have to think of something else, no?" His eyes met Obi's, saying far too clearly that he could continue with this plan without breaking a sweat if he so desired. Shit.

"So it seems..." Obi replied. He had to restrain himself from stepping back, running, getting as far away from this lightning-bolt madman as possible. He mentally slapped himself. Jedi thought no such nonsense.

Mick, of course, chose the perfect time to enter the conversation. "Now wait heah, Davey Boay, he wouldn'a done anythin' so bad t'ya. There's no need fo' any'a that."

Obi's heart soared as Bowie turned his narrowed eyes on Mick. He hissed through his teeth upon hearing the name. "Must I ask you again not to call me" He closed his eyes in pain "'Davey Boy?' Unless, of course, you would like me to return to calling you Minnie." As in Mickey Mouse and Minnie Mouse

Mick raised his hands in defeat. "Right, sorry, mate. Was just sayin' there's no need fo' any o' that at the moment. I was plannin' to-" he glanced at Obi-Wan mischievously "show 'im the light, so to speak." He grinned and winked roguishly at Bowie.

The satiny man considered this, turning his ever-changing eyes on Kenobi. Obi-Wan, on the other hand was getting tired of all these emotions flipping around in his head. Betrayal, lust, fear, hope, anger, anticipation, confusion, hurt, sadness, missing of the Anakin, anxiety, angst, enamourality, disdain, excitement, adrenaline, jealousy, paranoia, distrust, not to mention his hands were itching to whip out his light saber and have done with this. However, he thought it better not to blow his cover yet.

"Perhaps..." Bowie raised his hand to his chin in thought. He sauntered over to Obi-Wan and entwined his fingers in sandy locks. He lifted a piece, examining it in the light. "I may be able to work with this."