Summary: The sequel to my response to Knight Smeg's first line
challenge: "Qui-Gon, no one is going to believe we're
lovers."
Note: Hey, you all asked for this. It's not my fault. All
musical references are from my own 20th high school reunion.
Feedback: Well, sure. Otherwise, I'd just sit around and read
this to myself.
Disclaimer: I didn't do it. And even if I did, I didn't make a
dime.
"Obi-Wan."
"Hmmmm?"
"What are you doing?"
"I'm just doing my part as your trophy snugglebunny."
[wryly] "I would think you could do it without sticking your
hand down the front of my trousers. You're getting very, um,
tactile all of the sudden. Are you feeling all right?"
"I feel fine. I feel better than fine. I feel... you.
Hello-o-o, Big Boy."
[firmly] "That does it. No more rum punch for you. [sharp
breath] And stop rubbing on me like that."
[teasingly] "I though I was supposed to convince everyone that
you are a studly Master of Luv and that I can't get enough of
you."
"No, you were supposed to gaze adoringly up at me and
compliment me repeatedly on my sexual prowess."
[puzzled] "Haven't I been doing that?"
[wryly] "You told my old chess club buddies that the sight of
me naked once stampeded a herd of female banthas. That's not
exactly the image I was going for."
[soothingly] "I'll do better, I promise. How's this--I wander
over to that group of aging peroxide-blonde cheerleaders at the
refreshments table and casually work into the conversation that
the sight of you naked and 'in action' was the inspiration for
a new religion on Phallus Prime?
[consideringly] "Hmmm--I like that much better. But I meant
what I said before, Padawan. No more rum punch. Now please take
your hand off my ass."
[some time later]
[giggling] "Mission accomplished, Master. You are now
officially a sex god. And I--what is that! My eyes! My
eyes!"
"Oh, please, Obi-Wan. It's just the mirror ball."
[disapprovingly] "Did you disobey me and have more punch?"
[swaying] "Nope, my masterly master. I did not." [hiccup]
"However, one of the cheerleading blondes--who by the way,
thinks you're very hot--introduced me to something called a
tequila shooter. I had three. I can't tell you how at one with
the Force I feel right now." [gasp] "Oh! What is that
divine music?"
"It's the Bee Gees, although divine is something of an
overstatment."
[provocative shimmy] "Dance with me, my studly Master of Luv."
[sternly] "Absolutely not, Obi-Wan. You're drunk. I think you
need to lie down."
[whooping with delight] "Oh, Master! I thought you'd
never ask."
"I've changed my mind. I think I really would like to dance."
[smirking] "You are in such denial. But I'll take what I
can get."
[rustle of clothes, press of flesh]
"Ooh, Master. Is that a light saber in your pocket, or are you
just glad to see me?"
[ruefully] "You know, Mace tried to tell me that this was a bad
idea, but would I listen? [minor skirmish] "Damn it, Obi-Wan.
I'm the master. I get to lead."
[sultrily] "You can lead me anywhere you like, Master. Hic."
[a brief "Stayin' Alive" moment]
"Oh, no. It can't be!"
"What?"
"Over there. That looks like Eyrdre!"
"Who's Eyrdre?"
"She's the--Force! She's headed this way."
[several minutes later]
"Well, that sucked like a giant black hole. Who was that
creature?"
"That 'creature' was my date for the senior prom. She's never
really forgiven me for taking her home afterwards and leaving
her with nothing more than a kiss at the door. She was a nice
girl, but, well, you know. I don't think she's taking the sight
of me with a male date very well."
[nodding earnestly] "A hot little number who is half your age
and who looks up at you adoringly and compliments you
repeatedly on your sexual prowess. Hic."
[amusedly] "Well, that was the plan, anyway." [sigh] "This
isn't turning out to be as much fun as I had hoped it would be,
Padawan. Do you mind if we leave early?"
[hopefully] "And go back to the hotel, order from room service,
climb into bed, and screw our brains out?"
[contemplative pause]
[carefully] "Not that such an offer isn't tempting, my Padawan,
but it would be very wrong of me to take advantage of you in
your current condition."
[incredulous, slightly woozy stare]
"I'll bet you were an Eagle Scout, too, weren't you? Sheesh.
I've wanted you for years, Master. For years. And I've
loved you even longer. I'm just a little too well lit tonight
to pretend otherwise."
[no response]
"Oh. Oh, I see."
"No, my heart. I don't think you do."
[startled pause]
[rueful shrug]
[slow, triumphant smile]
"Not so fast, Obi-Wan. We should not rush into this."
"Oh, yes, we should. Hey, we could pretend it was prom night.
Only better."
[firmly] "No, Padawan. And I think it would be a good idea to
stay a little longer, after all."
[sigh] "Very well, Master. I bow to your--wait. Wait.
I'm having a moment of Force prescience. I see..."
[lengthy pause]
"What? You see what?"
[flatly] "Let's just say I hope you're up to four and a half
more hours of 'The Hustle'."
[snort]
[pause]
"You are joking. Right?"
"There is no jocularity. There is only the Force. Hic."
[amused resignation] "Very well, Obi-Wan. But I'd feel better
if we wait until they announce the superlatives. That will give
you time to sober up a little. [softly] Then, if you
still want this, my heart, we will go back to the
hotel."
[a "Grease" tribute and a disorganized superlatives
presentation later]
"Quite an accomplishment, Master--'Most Changed' and
"Alumnus Who Came ]From Furtherest Away'." [suggestively] "So.
Do you want to try for 'Alumnus Who Came...'?
"Alumnus who came what?"
[waggling eyebrows] "Again and again and again."
[evenly] "Careful, my Padawan. Your mouth may be writing checks
your body can't cash."
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