As the Indignant Holder of Yoda's Lingerie, I felt compelled to
reply to Emu's challenge to do something with my possessions.
God help me.
Author: Chat Noir
Archive: M_A, if you really want it
Catagory: Humor/Parody
Rating: Uh, PG?
Warnings/Spoilers: no
Summary: A racy story involving some jedi and some frilly
undies
Feedback: Yeah or Nay both appreciated at Sithlawyer@aol.com
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, I do not wish
to offend.
Qui-Gon entered the quarters he shared with his padawan
wearily. The council meeting had been long and tedious and for
some reason that escaped the jedi master, his presence had been
requested for the duration of it. Slowly he made his way into
the small kitchen area, intent on obtaining a cup of tea and
hopefully a moment's peace. As Qui-Gon plodded into the kitchen
entryway, he stopped short. The tired man looked slowly around
the room. He believed he had walked into the center of a
hurricane. Counters, tabletops, appliances and chairs were
covered with stacks upon piles upon heaps of clothing. But it
was not just any clothing, mind you, but lingerie. Lacey,
silky, satiny, feathery and puffy garments covered every inch
of the small kitchen. And standing in the middle of it all was
Qui-Gon's apprentice, smiling happily, his arms up to their
elbows in a sudsy liquid filling the sink.
"Hello, Master," the grinning padawan greeted him as he
delicately wrung out a pair of tiny undies. "How did the budget
meeting go?"
"Long, Obi-Wan. And boring," he replied, stunned. "Obi-Wan?
What are you doing?"
"Oh, sorry about the mess, Master. I told Master Yoda I'd wash
his lingerie for him."
"You're washing his underwear? What on Coruscant for?" Qui-Gon
asked his apprentice, amazed.
"Well, he didn't have time and I didn't have any pressing
duties, what with you tied up in budget meetings all day, so I
offered to help."
"Really, Padawan, while I admire your generous nature, you
should guard against being taken advantage of," he advised his
pupil.
"Oh, Master Yoda's repaying me. He won tickets to the Sny
Snootles concert on a radio contest and he promised to take
me," Obi-Wan assured him.
"Very well, then," Qui-Gon grudgingly allowed. He gave up on
his quest for tea and decided instead on a relaxing bath. "I
shall be soaking in the tub for a while, Obi-Wan. Could you
please hold all my comm-calls?" he asked the padawan.
"Oh, um, actually, the bathroom's kind of a mess right now. I
hung up the first batch of lingerie to dry in there," Obi-Wan
hedged. Seeing his master's obvious displeasure, he decided on
a swift change of plans, one geared towards both relaxing
Qui-Gon and greatly improving his mood. Fighting back a wry
grin he seriously addressed the elder jedi. "Why don't you sit
down for a few moments, Master? I'll leave these to soak and
fetch the laundry from the bathroom. It should be dry by now
anyway. And then I can run our, I mean your, bath."
Grumbling an assent, Qui-Gon petulantly stomped into the other
room and threw himself into a recliner. He heard the sound of
rustling and running water emanating from the bathroom.
Several minutes later, he heard the woosh of a doorway and
glanced over towards the open portal to the lavatory. Standing
in the center of the door was Obi-Wan. Steam flowed out the
doorway behind him, wrapping around his bare legs and snaking
past his smooth, bare shoulders. He clutched a laundry basket
in front of him, obscuring Qui-Gon's view of his torso.
Negligently Obi-Wan tossed the basket to the floor with a
thump, slinging pieces of lace and gauze in a circle at his
feet. Qui-Gon's eyes protruded from his skull until he began to
resemble a species of hoot owl. He tried vainly to recover his
composure, but his voice faltered when he spoke. "Are you
wearing Yoda's negligee?" he asked, dumbfounded. He could not
help but stare at the bizarre sight in front of him. His
padawan had struck a pose in the doorway, dressed only in a
very short and very tight lacy frock.
"You like it?" Obi-Wan questioned him with a twinkling eye and
a leer.
"I am stunned, Padawan," Qui-Gon choked out, wondering if the
stress of the morning's activities had triggered some sort of
mental breakdown.
"Want to see what's under my bloomers?" Obi-Wan pressed,
approaching his shocked master.
Qui-Gon employed a jedi relaxation technique and was able to
stifle his laughter. He began to formulate a naughty plan. "I
think, Obi-Wan, that this situation requires the use of our toy
box," he suggested, revealing a truly evil grin.
"Ooh, yes!" agreed Obi-Wan gleefully. "Do get the toy box,
Qui-Gon."
As Obi-Wan waited hopefully, Qui-Gon headed into the bedroom
and began to make rummaging noises. Moments later, he returned
brandishing a small leather case. Obi-Wan's smile impossibly
grew larger. Just as Qui-Gon neared his eager apprentice, alarm
klaxons and siren bells began to ring and wail all over the
jedi temple.
"What?" yelled Obi-Wan over the din.
"Fire alarm, Padawan! Quickly, we must exit the building,"
Qui-Gon informed his apprentice, shoving Obi-Wan toward the
door.
"I can't go out there like this!" wailed Obi-Wan. "I'm wearing
Yoda's knickers!"
"Safety first, Obi-Wan!" shouted Qui-Gon as he propelled the
red faced young man into the hallway filled with racing jedi.
"Get moving!"
Before dashing out the door himself, Qui-Gon was careful to
retrieve the burned out matchsticks from where he had placed
them under the smoke detector in the bedroom.
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