The Only Thing to Fear…
Disclaimer: Buffy is the property of Joss Whedon. Star Wars is the property of George Lucas.
"Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering." Yoda
"So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance." Franklin Delano Roosevelt
A/N: Huge thanks to all my reviewers! If you have questions, feel free to ask, but keep in mind that a great majority of this story is going to be told in flashbacks. Flashbacks will be in italics on and with on Twisting the Hellmouth.
Chapter 2: Cold
Okay, it was official- Mygeeto totally sucked. First, Buffy had to navigate through an asteroid field to enter its frozen atmosphere- a task that she was proud to say she had accomplished with only two small dents on her starfighter. Then had come the blizzard. Yea, turns out, Mygeeto is like one big swirly mess of purple clouds and hails storms raging about twenty-four seven over jagged icicle mountains with nasty sharp crystallized edges. Not the most inviting place.
The icing on the cake, however, was that the cities- they were just as formidable as the stupid planet! Once Buffy had finally found a decently level track of snow to land on, within view of the skyline of one of Mygeeto's wealthy cities… something or other- the name was playing a little hard to get with Buffy- she had thrown open the ceiling to her cockpit and let in the rush of frigid air.
And OH MY GOD!! was it cold!! The Slayer, clothed only in her favorite ribbed black tank Padme had given her and the matching black pants and boots, began to shiver uncontrollably. She clutched her arms to her chest as though her life depended on it and frantically scrambled around in her cramped seat to find the small fleecy blanket she knew to be stuffed back there. Just when she thought her fingers would fall off from frostbite, she chanced upon it and quickly wrapped it around herself.
That was one of the nifty things about this dimension- their blankets could warm themselves. Kind of like an electric blanket, but without all the fuss of having the cord and stuff. It was way useful and if she ever made it back to Sunnydale, she was totally going to have to bring this with.
Hopping like a snow bunny toward the imposing black spired skyscrapers with the heated blanket wrapped tightly around her like a straight jacket, Buffy knew she maybe wasn't going to make the impression on Silo that she'd been hoping for. But at least she was going to make an impression.
Not like Ben would of though. He'd probably have known all about how horrible this crystallized excuse of a planet was and been all prepared with jackets and his favorite heavy duty brown cloak and…
"Buffy, I'm so sorry. Palpatine must have known more than we thought. That, or we hit too close to home with that last informant," Obi-Wan whispered helplessly behind her as she unlocked her apartment door. Which was more of a task than it ought to have been, what with all the stupid water in her eyes making the keypad for her combination look all blurry. AND what was that number anyway! It was so difficult to remember…
The only thing that wasn't difficult to remember, however, was that incessant voice in her head saying over and over again, 'leave tonight, you must… leave tonight, you must…' like a freaking parakeet!
"Shhh," Ben soothed, grabbing up her hands that for some reason had been pounding on the keypad instead of entering her combination. He gently clasped them in his own and pulled her around to face him, bringing their interlaced hands tight against his chest.
Buffy suddenly seemed to realize where she was- the familiar hallway both her and Ben shared as their apartments were located right beside each other's. And she realized, with a start, that Ben was openly showing affection- maybe not as sizzly as some of the stuff they'd done, but he was doing it out in the open. Anyone could turn the corner at that very moment and spot them! Ben could get kicked out of the Temple!!
"What are you doing!?" Buffy cried, prying her hands free as she did so.
Ben didn't resist her nor did he show the least bit of hurt as he quickly tapped in her number and opened the door for her, ushering her inside. "It's alright, Buffy. You don't have to be so upset. I won't leave you."
"You…" Buffy froze, just inside her apartment and turned back to Ben who was shutting the door carefully behind him and locking it. Dumbfounded, she finally managed to ask, "What?"
"I'm not going to leave you," he said slowly, "I'll quit the Jedi first."
New tears sprung to Buffy's eyes that had nothing to do with the eviction notice. "Ben, you shouldn't have to do that." She gave a little sniff and quickly wiped her eyes. "In fact, you know what? No. I can't ask you to leave the Jedi for me. I'm not that selfish. This is your life."
Obi-Wan grinned a little at her. "Actually, I wasn't going to leave it for you. Or, all for you at any rate," he quickly added, seeing the crushed look on her face. "I refuse to be a Jedi when we are forced to submit to the Chancellor as we've just been. For the Council to allow that…" he trailed off, shaking his head in obvious disgust.
"Oh," Buffy said. Okay, so maybe Benjy wasn't head over heels with her, but at least he cared, right? "So… what are we going to do now? Or, as a very wise and annoying demon named 'Sweet' once sang, 'Where do we go from here?"
Ben seated himself on the stool by her kitchen counter as he often did when they were talking in her apartment and said, "We'll simply have to find a place, sharing the rent of course."
"Of course."
"Because you know that I am…what did you just think? Ah yes, 'head over heels' with you, so it really shouldn't be a problem. And then we will continue with our leads. Palpatine will not get away so ea… UMPH!"
Buffy had tackled Obi-Wan, causing him to roughly hit the hard floor of her kitchen but he absorbed the fall and rolled with her until they were on the softer carpet of her living area. She assaulted him on the mouth then, viciously with her own allowing neither of them air- had they had the notion to breathe any time soon, which fortunately, they didn't- and Buffy was able to forget about Palpatine and the Council and her eminent homelessness and just focus on the way Ben's lips sent electrical shockwaves riveting down her spine. How she felt completely right in his arms, completely at home, just as he always made her feel.
Obi-Wan broke away first, pushing her away slightly until she began to moan in frustration and then he, very gently, rolled them over so that he lay on top of her, resting his full weight on his hands and knees as he hovered over her. He softly stroked her hair, which had come out of its ponytail in all the rolling and then leaned down and brushed a delicate kiss to her lips.
"What was that for?" Buffy asked breathlessly.
He tucked a loose tendril of her wispy blonde hair behind her ear before he leaned down again to pepper feathery light kisses down her jawbone mumbling almost inaudibly as he did so, "I could have asked you the same, but I try to refrain from asking questions to which I already know the answer."
"You know," Buffy sighed as he continued on down her neck, obviously enjoying the humming vibration of her vocal cords as that was where he chose to rest his mouth, "I have that whole mind-reading thing of yours all figured out."
"Do you?" he mumbled, his own breath tickling her throat.
"Yes, I know how to block you and how to let you listen."
Ben abruptly stopped his ministrations to her neck and pushed himself up. Buffy nearly hit herself over the head for foiling his obviously less than Jedi-standard intensions and got up as well, with a hand from Ben of course.
"Are you sure? We've been working on it, but I didn't sense you had any mastery of it yet…"
"Maybe I'm just that good," Buffy said while at the same time thinking, 'It's a good thing you have no idea how close I am to throwing you in my bedroom and having my way with you.' But she thought it as the subtext of her mental process, hiding the message behind her thoughts behind her words so that in the end, all she could assume Ben would pick up was, 'Maybe I'm just that good.'
Ben cocked his head to the side and regarded her carefully. "That," he said, "Was very good. If I hadn't known to look for it, I probably wouldn't have gotten anything."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "You mean you heard me? Like, REALLY heard what I was thinking?" And she could have sworn she'd nearly had it, too!
He smirked. "Something about your bedroom?"
But suddenly, the door flew open and Masters Windu and Yoda stepped and hovered, as the case may be, inside looking very grave.
"Sorry to interrupt, we are. But leave at once you must."
As soon as the door had flown open, not knowing what to expect, Ben had unconsciously moved slightly in front of Buffy, even though they both knew there was no need- she could take a hit better than he could- and from that position before her, he reached behind his back and grabbed her hand supportively.
Macey stepped forward and said, like it was a great burden he was getting off his chest or something, "Obi-Wan, we have let your…indiscretions slide. But the time has come for you to go your separate ways. It's too dangerous right now, for her and for you, as well as everyone in this Temple, to continue to investigate the Chancellor so overtly."
That same shadow of disgust Buffy had seen earlier, flashed across Ben's face as he slowly replied in a very cold tone she wasn't accustomed to, "So you would have us do nothing? You would have the Chancellor go about his business, AS THOUGH WE WEREN'T AWARE THAT HE'S THE SITH MASTER!!"
Everyone was speechless for a few seconds as the echo of Obi-Wan's voice resonated throughout the tight walls of the apartment room.
"Overtly, Master Windu said, Obi-Wan. Realize we do that guilty of something he is. Rush to conclusions, we will not. Investigate him, we must continue to," Yoda said quietly, staring very intently at Obi-Wan with a supreme look of calm masking his face and his voice.
"But without Buf…" Mace stared to say.
"No," Ben said firmly. "He wants her off of this for a reason. He must be able to sense her unease. He knows she can feel his power. We need her on this." At the word, 'need,' Obi-Wan squeezed her hand and Buffy knew it was more than the mission that needed her. She squeezed back.
"Need her to investigate the Chancellor, we do not. Clouded by your affections, you are, Obi-Wan," Yoda said this very slowly, and behind his unreal calm, Buffy could perceive an intense sadness taking root.
Ben must have sensed it as well, because just like that, his whole demeanor changed. He released her hand, letting his own fall limply to his side as his shoulders slumped over in defeat.
Gently, Mace added, "Search past your feelings and see for yourself that Buffy has been compromised." He shifted his stern gaze to her and said in a tone that almost managed to pass for concern, "It's not that we don't appreciate everything you've done."
Ben scraped the palm of his hand up his temples and into his hairline in a frustrated manner before he gave a heavy sigh and said flatly, "I do understand, Masters. But..." His voice broke slightly and he turned to look at her. Buffy almost stepped backward in shock. She had never seen him so torn.
A man with two masters…
His pain reflected in her own greener eyes, she laid a hand as comforting as she was able to provide on his shoulder and then let it slide as she stepped forward and said firmly, "It's alright, everyone. I understand too. The only way you can catch this guy is by letting me go. And who knows? Maybe if he's too wrapped up tracking me, he'll be too busy to notice who ever you send." She turned around and whispered to Ben, "You need to be here, doing what you do best." She started into her bedroom, ready to pack her things but then threw over her shoulder, "And you better find me when all this is over or Sith Masters will be the least of the Jedi's problems!"
He solemnly nodded, but to which message, she had no idea- for there had been two.
The thought beneath her words and the thoughts with her words were muddled, purposefully so, but the subverted message had gone something like this, 'Following Palpy is all fine and well…dandy, but someone, namely me, has to check out what the monkey man said. Preferably alone because that definitely had to be the trigger to opening Palpy's can of tattle-telling and the more he thinks I'm cut off the better. That, or we go plan B and he really does follow me in which case everything's peachy since we'll definitely see each other that way.' And as she turned and threw over her shoulder her last comment, she clearly subverted her thought directly interlacing it with the words so that she was sure he heard her think, 'And I'm not going to say I love you. I'm pretty sure you already know it goes way deeper than that, so please don't worry about me. Worry about Anakin and Qui-Gon and tracking Palpy, but never worry about me. I'm the Slayer.'
And then she was closing the door. Leaning heavily with her back against it as she waited for all of them to leave. Waited to be alone, to leave the planet and to embrace the cold…
A cold so numbing, she was pretty sure she'd never be able to feel her face again. Which might be a good thing considering it probably resembled a grapefruit at this stage of frostbite. Not that she had much experience with frostbite, or really bad snow storms- living in California for most of her life as it was- but she was pretty sure she didn't want a mirror at that moment as she stepped through the tall, dark green and purple stain-glassed automatic doors and up to what looked to be a reception desk manned by an diminutive little woman with wild, frizzy hair and a simple brown professional looking dress.
"May I help you?" She asked in flawless English.
Buffy sighed in relief, both from the warmness of the building and from the fact that Mygeeto humanoids apparently preferred English just like humanoids on Coruscant and Tatooine. "Yea, hi. My name is Joan Arc and I'm here to request a meeting with your boss, a Mr. Silas Cain? If he's in, that is. And doesn't mind meeting with someone from Coruscant, with a really big business proposition."
She smiled, like she'd no doubt been taught to and said politely, "If you'll just wait over there," she gestured to a row of seats, resembling floating disks along a glacially blue and white wall, "I'll see what Mr. Cain's personal secretary can do for you."
"Huge proposition," Buffy added unnecessarily and quickly went to seat herself, rearranging the blanket around her so it formed a sort of poncho that served to hide Tiggy's lightsaber from view.
The receptionist disconnected her transmission to Cain's secretary and hailed Buffy back. "Alright, Miss. Take the elevator up to the top floor and go all the way down the main corridor. You'll see the sign."
Buffy didn't point out the fact that from the moment she'd arrived in this dimension, there hadn't been a single thing she'd been able to read (she'd only chanced upon the right building because it was the biggest of the black spires and the sign above the stain-glassed doors had a little illustration of a supernova-like scene which she took to be their subtle symbol for an energy company) and quickly thanked the woman and walked to the elevator.
It was very sleek looking, not at all like some of the campus ones she'd used with Willow- they'd made frequent jokes about the irony of the Slayer dying from the elevator's jaws as opposed to that of her more traditional foe, the vampire- and Buffy quickly scanned the button pad for the highest floor. Like English, numbers seemed to be a unifying factor in this Galaxy, as they had been on Earth and she quickly punched the largest, the elevator rocketing up like a Saturn V as soon as she did so.
Unsteadily making her way out of the elevator, which she sort of doubted a machine that feisty could legally be termed as such, she found there was really only one large forest-green painted hallway to walk down. After stumbling along it for a ways, passing many tightly sealed, unmarked doors, she found one that was not only marked, but marked in a big way as two matching bronze colored human statues guarded it on either side and above it, a large sign read off something official looking.
"Hello, you must be Joan." The much prettier secretary greeted immediately as Buffy entered the elaborately decorated waiting room.
Buffy nodded absently, still taking in the rich paintings on the walls- most of which were focused on bleary crystallized mountains and dark, magnificently spiraling dark skyscrapers. It didn't take a genius to figure out where the painter had gathered his muses.
The secretary, in a voice straining to capture her attention, said, "Mr. Cain will be with you shortly, he just has to finish up the conference call he's on."
"Oh, of course." Buffy said, edging toward the large closed doors she assumed led to Cain's office as she pretended to inspect down the row of paintings. It wasn't hard, the secretary went back to pursuing her holographic catalog as soon as she'd announced Buffy…err, Joan's arrival.
Going as close as she dared to the doors, Buffy strained with her hearing to fixate on the other side of the thick dark-green glassed material. She could just make out the blurred voice of someone saying heatedly, "What do… mean…here? I… don't…stand. Well, he…etter." And then she heard nothing for a moment before the secretary called, "You can go in now, Ms. Arc."
The thick doors suddenly slid open to reveal a lavish office decorated in shades of deep forest green, like the glass doors and the expansive hallway had been, with pictures similar to those in the waiting area only larger and obviously more expensive. At the far end of the large room, across what seemed an acre of plush, hunter green carpet that looked soft and full enough to sleep on, sat an impressive desk, made entirely, or so it would seem, out of white crystal. Seated behind the desk was a large man, large in that he really was, in every dimension of the word, large.
He was barrel-chested and tall, with a gut that would have made Santa envious and had mousy, salt and pepper shaded hair clipped closely to his square-jawed skull. As he stood to welcome her in, she noticed that he was clothed in a snug, velvety black full-length cloak, fastened all the way from his neck to his toes- which she fervently hoped wasn't because he enjoyed playing commando in his personal office or anything.
He looked to be about Qui-Gon's age, but lacked the older Jedi's cultured voice and wizened stare when he narrowed his eyes- as grey and cold as the weather outside- on her and said sarcastically, "How nice to meet you, Ms. Arc." Okay, not with the good. And right off the bat too! Why did he have to be all judgy? She hadn't even gotten a chance to lay out her brilliant undercover scheme and already with the suspicion! "I understand you're here about a business proposition for Cain Enterprises?"
Well, if he wanted to toy with her a bit, then she'd just have to play along and see how much she could drag out before it came to fists. Not that it would be a problem. Big she could deal with…
Until a shadow stepped out from what she had at first mistaken for a closet door behind the glacial desk. The shadow glided just to the edge of the artificial light so that all she could make out for sure was that it was a human, maybe, and very lean. And kind of giving off a lot of creepy vibes according to her Spidey tingles.
"Oh, forgive me," Mr. Cain said pleasantly, all traces of misgiving gone with the arrival of the shadow. "This, is Mr. Quinn, my associate. Naturally, I'm sure he'll be interested in what you have to say as well."
The man, such as he was, stepped into the light and said in a liquidly velvet-smooth voice, "Ska-rey Quinn, Ms. Summers. A pleasure, I'm sure."
Buffy's stomach tightened. This wasn't her investigation. This wasn't even her mission anymore.
This was a trap, and one she had willingly walked right into.