Author's Notes: Thanks to Kim for letting me use her. *smile*
DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
“So you going to the party tonight, Kim?” you ask as you quickly grab a tissue before sneezing like a truck driver thanks to the cold from hell that won’t go away.
“And miss the chance to capture Mace Windu on film shakin’ his groovethang? Not a chance!” Kim replies from the other side of the low wall that separates your desks in the Hot Jedi office. “And bless you, by the way.”
“Thanks,” you say through your sniffles. “The readers of Hot Jedi will be most grateful to you for this noble sacrifice on your part.”
“Ha, ha!” Kim chuckles evilly. “I have my camera at the ready,” she says jumping from her chair and pointing it at you…only to have the batteries fall out and plunk to the floor. “Uh…that wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Better fix that before the party,” you say. Then you suddenly hear a rattling noise above your head and look up. “What was that?”
“What?”
“Oh…nothing. Just thought I heard something.”
Kim sits back down and begins typing her feature on Mace. “So you’re going tonight, right?”
“Yeah…if this cold doesn’t do me in,” you say.
“Drugs,” she says.
“Definitely,” you say.
“I just have to find something to wear,” Kim says. “You know how these parties go.”
“I know,” you say with a chuckle.
“I’m thinking of something really Sithly,” Kim says.
“Good plan,” you say. “I think I’m gonna be a smut queen.”
“Woo-hoo!”
You laugh and then hear the strange noise again. “There it is. Did you hear it?”
“Yeah, I did,” she says looking up. “Sounds like it’s coming from the air vent.”
“Hmmm… Well, old building, you know,” you say.
“Yeah,” Kim says. The two of you go back to your projects. A few moments later a louder rattle is heard, and all of a sudden, the vent door comes crashing down on Kim’s desk. She yelps and jumps up as it flips to the floor.
You pop up, “Geez, are you OK?”
“Yeah, it’s not that heavy. Just loud,” she says.
“Let me call upstairs and have somebody call a maintenance guy,” you say. You pick up the receiver and dial Kayla’s extension. “Hi, Kayla, it seems that the building is falling apart down here. The air vent door thingy just about knocked Kim unconscious. No, everything else is AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!” You scream at the top of your lungs and jump up in a panic as something heavy, gooey, and tentacled lands on your head. You are aware of Kim screaming right along with you as you throw the phone down and grab whatever it is and rip it off your head and fling it to the floor. The thing, quite alive, skitters around by your feet, and you hop out of its way as you make little squealing noises.
“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING?” Kim yells as she grabs you buy the arm and pulls you back from the creature.
“I don’t know! I don’t know!” The thing stops for a moment, and the two of you stop. Then it darts forward and wraps it tentacles around both of your ankles.
“Oh God, it’s gonna kill us!” Kim cries.
You stomp on the center of the creature and it gushes to the floor…but then reforms and withdraws its tentacles and scurries under your desk. “Get a knife,” you yell as you pull Kim into the kitchenette and rummage through the drawers. You hear the pounding of multiple feet descending the stairs. You and Kim each grab a knife and run back into the office area, only to come face-to-face with two battle-ready Jedi, sabers ignited.
“Oh…my…God,” Kim says under her breath.
“Don’t thud,” you whisper back.
Kim only responds with a tiny squeaking noise.
“What is it? We heard your screams,” Qui-Gon says.
“It’s…it’s a…a THING!” you reply. “It fell outta the vent,” you say pointing up with a shaky hand, “and onto my head,” you whimper. You reach your hand up and touch your hair, which is sticky. “Eeeww!” you cry in disgust.
“What did it look like,” Obi-Wan asks.
“It looks like an alien!” Kim says.
“Kim, everything is an alien around here,” Kayla says as she steps forward.
“No,” Kim says. “An alien. Like in Aliens! You know, Ripley and little Newt!”
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan give each other perplexed looks.
You take a step forward. “It was gross. This gelatinous, skinny octopus-type thing that crept around on the floor and grabbed our legs before I stomped on it, and it took off under my desk.”
“There it is!” Kim screams as she lunges after it with her knife. You take off quickly after her, but are almost immediately stopped by a strong arm around your waist pulling you back. You look over and see that Qui-Gon is restraining Kim the same way Obi-Wan is restraining you. And then you see Kayla kneeling on top of a desk looking around madly at the floor.
“It is harmless,” Qui-Gon said, disengaging his saber. Obi-Wan does the same and then grabs the knife from you as you wriggle out of his grasp. Out of nowhere, a skinny tentacle suddenly slithers around your ankle, and you yelp. You stomp it again with your other foot, and it disappears under another desk.
“Harmless my ass!” Kayla yells.
You spin around and grab Obi-Wan by his tunic and growl in his face, “Kill it, Kenobi!”
“We are not going to kill it,” he says calmly. “It means you no harm.”
“It jumped on my head and wrapped its gooey tentacles around my face,” you say through your teeth.
“It is a harmless creature. And we form a symbiant circle with all living creatures, no matter what their species,” he says patronizingly. “This creature, in particular, is attracted to positive life energy. I think it simply likes you.”
You smack him on the chest. “Listen here, Gandhi! That thing is bug squat either way you want to look at it. Either you kill it, or I get my knife back.”
“Why don’t we do this,” Qui-Gon says, “we’ll capture it and take it out of the building.”
“No. No way,” Kayla says, still taking refuge on the higher ground of the desk. “Dead. I want it dead.”
Qui-Gon walks over to her and puts his hand on her cheek. “We’ll take it home with us,” he says.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Obi-Wan warns.
“I meant to the Temple in general, not to our quarters, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon says.
“OK, first of all the Temple is only a block away,” you say. “Second of all, this entire planet is a giant city so what the hell is an icky alien goo creature doing here, and how the hell did it get in our vent?” You hear a loud thunk and turn to see another gooey creature slithering down the wall.
“Another one!” Kim points emphatically.
“Oh, this is perfect!” Kayla yells. “Jelly creatures all over my building!”
“Ladies, just calm down for a moment,” Obi-Wan says. “This is nothing to get excited about.”
“Oh, be a man and just kill the disgusting things,” you say.
He gives you that razor-sharp look, “They may be disgusting to you, but they have a right to live just as any other living thing does.”
“Not in my building, they don’t,” Kayla says.
“And,” Obi-Wan adds, “being a man has nothing to do with killing!”
With a slurpy swooshing noise, the two creatures slide across the floor and wrap their tentacles around Obi-Wan’s ankle. You jump back with a repulsed groan. “Great, they’re your friends now,” you say. You squirm your face as you watch the two creatures pulse quickly on his leg. “What the hell are they doing?”
“They’re humping his leg!” Kim howls hysterically.
Obi-Wan shakes his leg to try to shoo the creatures and give you a very dirty look as you laugh at him.
“Yes Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon chuckles. “They seem to like you.”
“A little peanut butter with your jelly sandwich?” you say innocently and then erupt into laughter as everyone else does…everyone except Obi-Wan.
With a flurry of movement, Obi-Wan forcefully kicks up his leg, and the creatures fly up in the air. A flash of hot blue light assaults your eyes as his saber ignites, and the two creatures are turned into four crispy critters and bounce dead on the floor. He disengages his weapon, turns to you, and growls, “Happy now?”
You flash him a perfect smile. “Quite.”
Kayla jumps down from the desk and hurries over to Obi-Wan. She throws her arms around his neck and kisses him on the cheek. “My hero,” she purrs and then gives an unforgiving sideways glance to Qui-Gon, who, upon seeing this exchange, strides over to the air vent and peers inside.
“Everything looks fine in here,” Qui-Gon says. “I don’t see anything. But just to be sure, let’s seal off this basement until you can have a specialist come in to inspect it,” he says with full authority. “Now, everyone upstairs, please.”
You turn to Obi-Wan as you hear him quietly smirk at Qui-Gon’s take charge response to Kayla’s affection. You catch his silly grin, but his face quickly changes to a serious frown once he realizes you’re looking at him.
“Oh, give me a break, Obi-Wan Baloney” you sigh as you walk past him and up the stairs.
“You really shouldn’t scream like that unless it’s deadly serious,” Obi-Wan says as he closes the door to the basement stairs.
“Bite me,” you say as you keep walking ahead of him.
“This is not a joke,” he says.
You spin around and say, “I’m going to say this one more time. A friggin’ alien octopus landed on my head while I was minding my own business.” You pat your head again to find the gelatinous goo still soaking your hair. “Aw shit.” You look at your hand and try to find someplace to wipe it…and opt for Obi-Wan’s robe.
“Hey!” he exclaims as you smear him with it.
“Why are you being such a jerk about this?” you ask. “What would you do if something jumped out of the wall and landed on you? Cuddle with it? You would think you’d be a little more understanding where your friends are concerned instead of with some blobby alien thing covered with gummy K-Y Jelly.”
Obi-Wan stares at you for a moment, tight-lipped, and then his eyes shift above you, presumably at Qui-Gon. Then he looks back you again. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” he says, although it sounds more like reluctance than honesty.
“So then I suppose I don’t need to tell them how you killed those all the time in your younger practice days…and still do when the mood strikes you,” Qui-Gon says.
Obi-Wan’s face crumples up in irritation as you snigger at him. He grabs the back of his neck and winces as he moves his head back and forth.
“What’s wrong? Injured patting yourself on the back for the peace, love, and joy award?” you ask.
“I’ll have you know I had to sleep on a rock during our last mission,” he says.
“Don’t you have those little healer people at the Temple to take care of stuff like that?” you ask.
You hear Qui-Gon chuckle behind you, and Obi-Wan says, “Yes, Master, she has a way with words.”
“So you’ve told me, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon says.
You sneeze in response.
Qui-Gon chuckles quietly and then turns to face Kayla. “Obi-Wan and I should be off. But we will see you this evening.” He turns toward you and Kim, “And you as well.”
“Sure thing,” Kim says. “Don’t forget Mace!”
“He would never let that happen,” Qui-Gon says.
“Tell him we’re looking forward to seeing him,” you say.
“Yeah, we’ve got special outfits picked out just for him,” Kim says.
“That’s right,” you answer.
“Hmmm,” Obi-Wan says as he walks around you. “The last time I checked he didn’t have a fetish for women in flannel pajamas, but that could have changed by now.”
You put your hands on your hips. “You underestimate me to an embarrassing extent.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, really,” you say.
He turns his head over his shoulder to look back at you with a brat grin and an arrogant look that says he’s got the entire galaxy figured out. “We’ll see,” he says as he follows Qui-Gon toward the door.
“We certainly will,” you say. Then you say a little louder, “No one should ever, ever, throw down a gauntlet to me.”
“We know,” Kayla and Kim say simultaneously.
“I can’t do it,” you say as you slump down to the floor of the JH smut closet, surrounded by a dizzying array of costumes, accessories, and any other possible paraphernalia that any decent smut girl would want. It’s not the attire that’s the problem. It’s the pounding in your head from the Sith germs that are making you think twice about this party.
“Get up, you’ll wrinkle your dress,” Kayla says.
You climb slowly to your feet in order to avoid the inevitable head rush that occurs when you move faster than a slug. “I feel like shit,” you say.
“Take something,” Kayla says as she grabs her outfit for the evening.
“I will,” you say.
She starts to walk past you and then stops. “Wait a minute.” She leads you to the mirror. “Stay there.”
“No problem,” you say. You look at your reflection. The dress is velvet and brocade, walking the line between deep scarlet and burgundy. The bodice is tightened just so, and the skirt of the dress has several layers of different lengths that cascade out at the hips providing the right sway when you walk and revealing the right amount of leg in certain places. A small billow of fabric encircles each shoulder and possesses the proper slippage factor for that appropriate tease of bare flesh coveted by any self-respecting smut queen. The look is somewhat Elizabethan…only tarty. Black stockings cover your legs, the top of the stockings and garter belts visible from certain proper angles when you walk. Your black shoes look more Ava Gardner than royal costume variety, but she was a queen in her own right…and better to emulate a smut goddess for a smut party than some virginal royal.
“You need these,” Kayla says as she slings several necklaces over your head. They are of varying colors and lengths, all accentuating every curve of your flesh. “And these,” she says as she starts clipping thin curls to your own hair, close to your natural color but with a little more shimmer and sparkle…some with glitter, some suggesting the color of your dress but not matching it. The effect is subtle but completes the look.
You take a long look at yourself again. You look positively decadent. “Kayla, you’re a genius,” you say through your stuffy nose.
“I know. Take something,” she says.
“Will do,” you say as you strut off down the hall in search for meds.
An hour later, you are incessantly bouncing up and down on your bed working off that Dayquil buzz. You have that groggy, wired feeling that will only make this party all the more interesting. You can hear the beginnings of the party downstairs, but any good smut queen knows it’s better to be fashionably late.
You flop back on the bed and drift off into a haze until you hear a loud squeal followed by male laughter. The Jedi’s have arrived. You shoot straight up and then wobble from the head rush. You grab your cute little tiara, pin it firmly to your hair, and say to the mirror, “We’ll see who’s the smart ass now, Kenobi.” And then, as tradition dictates, you stick out your tongue at your reflection, saunter out of your room, and down the stairs.