Title: ABH - The Hunted, Part 1 of ?
Author: Emmy
Rating: NC-17 overall, Part 1 is R (for language)
Archive: GeneralsGrrls & TempleLibrary
Disclaimer: George owns most everything but you
Notes: Darry proposed an Obi/Xani slash smut bunny to me. Being permanently afflicted with Chonic Ho Syndrome, I immediately turned it into a het fic with a questionable plot. Go me. So now it's General/"You". So thanks to Darry for the initial idea (yes, Darry, you'll read this and go "huh?"), thanks to the General for being infinitely do-able, and God bless Mary Sue.

"You are a difficult woman to track down."

"I like it that way."

"I have an assignment for you."

You blow the hair out of your eyes as you flip your head, staring intently at the blurry holographic image of your contact, Rallin, wishing now that you'd agreed to meet in person so you could at least see his eyes. "What is it?"

"A little surveillance," he says, scratching his chin and shrugging slowly. "A little kidnapping."

You roll your eyes slightly and think, not for the first time, that perhaps you should have gone into the assassin business instead of the rather muddy career you've carved out for yourself. Their work is so much more clear-cut than abduction, coercion, or any of the other numerous things you find yourself getting paid for. "Who's the target?"

"Army General," he says nonchalantly.

Your eyebrows pop up. This is certainly a change from the riff raff you usually chase around. "What?"

"Jedi General, in fact."

"Whoa," you say, putting your hands up. "No Jedi. No way."

He sighs and crosses his arms. "I thought you hated Jedi."

"I may not like them, but I'm certainly not stupid," you say.

"You disappoint me," he says. "I thought you'd at least be intrigued."

"Need I remind you that I used to be a Jedi?"

"That's exactly why I'm offering you this job."

"And they don't take too kindly to those of us who leave the Order. This General of yours certainly won't like being targeted by a supposed Dark Knight such as myself. They have radar for that shit, ya know."

He smiles. "I imagine that nobody likes be targeted by you."

"This is different," you say.

"How?"

"I don't kill Jedi. I just don't."

"Nobody is asking you to kill him. In fact, my client wants him very much alive."

"Listen, Rallin. I go after this Jedi and one of us ends up dead. That's just the way it is with them."

"Then you'd better just hope it isn't you," he says. "Because this job is paydirt for you, kid."

"And who the hell is this client of yours who wants a live Jedi?"

Rallin smiles, knowing he has you hooked. "Let's just say he's a higher up who doesn't wish to compromise his position or reputation by being associated with us."

"Another politician, eh?" you say cynically. Rallin's snort tells you that your guess is correct. "So what did this Jedi do to him? Expose the truth like the do-gooder he most certainly is?"

"All you need to do is track him down, knock him out good, and wrap him in a pretty bow for my client, got it?"

"Yeah, yeah. What's the pay?"

"Thirty thousand."

"Forty."

Rallin sighs. "I agreed to thirty."

"Liar. I want forty for a Jedi. What's his name."

"Uh…." Rallin looks down at a piece of paper. "Kenobi."

Your mouth drops open, your eyes growing wide. "Fuck."

"You knew him?"

"Shit, everyone knows him. Where the hell have you been?"

"No, I meant back then…when you were--"

"Yeah, he was a big name back then, too," you say dryly. "Better make it seventy-five, no a hundred."

"Now, wait a minute. I--"

"Don't try to fuck me over on this, Rallin. You want me to tackle a Jedi, *the* Jedi poster boy of all time…not to mention the bullshit heroic General aspect. I've done my share of high-level ops work and contract military shit that no one will ever confess to, and this case ranks right up there. So if your client won't cough up what this job is worth, he can stick it up--"

"Calm down. You know I wouldn't try to snake you on this deal."

"One-fifty."

"C'mon!"

"My price is just gonna keep going up, Rallin. And you know damn well I'm the only one close to capable of bringing Kenobi in. I want a hundred and fifty thousand, dead or alive. In fact, I want a bonus of fifty thousand if I bring him in alive." You try to hide your smile as you see Rallin's face scrunch up in such a manner that tells you the deal is cinched.

"Fine," he barks.

"Half now," you say. "And half - plus my bonus - when I bring him in."

"I'll send the data through now," Rallin mumbles.

"Always a pleasure doing business with you," you grin.

He gives you an annoyed look and then terminates the transmission.

You stare at the empty space where his holographic image was, thinking about what you've just gotten yourself into. "Shit," you mutter under your breath as your computer beeps at you. You turn to the screen and click on Rallin's message, scanning the data for any clue that would allow a Jedi General to be caught off-guard by a Temple dropout.

You sit in your hotel room, cleaning the handle of your light sabre. It was the only thing you took with you when you snuck out of the Temple in the middle of the night all those years ago, never to return again to the only place you ever knew as home. The sabre, and your ability to use it, are the only two solidly dependable aspects of your life. And for some strange reason, it suits you perfectly. The only regret you have is that the Jedi make you live your life in the shadows because of the simple decision you made to leave them. Growing up, you always believed that anyone who left the Temple was lured to the Dark Side. And now that you've lived on your own for seven years, you know that's the farthest thing from the truth.

Because if you really were lost to the Dark Side, you'd certainly be staying in fancier digs than this rat trap hotel.

Of course, capturing Kenobi and turning him over to whoever wants him isn't exactly the path to the Light Side either. But if the Council hadn't blacklisted you and handed your photo and vital statistics over to every bounty hunter in the galaxy - a detail they pretend no one knows about - you wouldn't have to make a living this way.

You finish cleaning your weapon and set it down on the bed. Due to fortuitous timing, Kenobi is on shore leave for three days, and you have reviewed several options in your head, deciding that the most obvious method is the best. Very few leave the Temple of their own choice. And you are certain that Kenobi, along with every other Knight, received orders after your departure to haul you in by any means necessary.

All you have to do is get him to follow you. If Kenobi is half the Jedi you believe him to be, the minute he sets eyes on you he will know who you are and take the bait without a second thought.

Your greatest challenge now is to steel your shields and not give him any hint of your deliberate ploy.

~*~

Having easily ascertained where he is staying by asking a few simple questions to weak minded MP's, you sit in the bar of his hotel, staking out the sizeable area by choosing a corner table to give you the best vantage point. From the photos in the file Rallin sent, you could see that his appearance still matched your expectation, although your recollection of him was a vague memory since your paths never actually crossed at the Temple. You had studied the most current photo several times, making sure it was embedded in your mind. Although, with the help of the Force, you would immediately be able to sense his presence, you didn't want to use such a method that would alert him to your silent inquiry. You knew you had to be able to recognize him by virtue of sight alone and then shut down your thoughts as best you could.

You take another sip of your ale, ignoring the interested glances you receive from other men in the bar, while you keep your eyes on the door. You shift in your chair only slightly when you see him walk in. There's no way you could have missed that entrance, the live version of Kenobi proving that the photographs did him no justice at all. The Force resonates from him in bright waves all the way back to the far corner where you sit. For a moment you allow the warm sensation to sink under your skin, feeling a bit of nostalgia for the strength of the Force in its purest form. You find yourself a bit surprised by his energy, having convinced yourself for the past several years that only children possessed such a clean aura.

You immediately turn your attention to your glass as he turns his head slightly toward your direction. You shut down all Force senses and think about the "memories" you have created for yourself as a cover. He will undoubtedly have already detected a Force-sensitive presence in the room, and you need to keep your thoughts focused on benign events. Well, at least benign in comparison to your real plan. You fill your head with the stereotypical assumptions about a "fallen" Jedi, mainly the stories you were told as a young padawan. You feign an air of paranoia and pose yourself to brood as you stare at the ale in your glass. Then you look up at him quickly, and he turns away from you, having caught you glance for a mere moment before shifting his eyes.

"This seat taken?"

You sigh as the young - and far too bold - officer stands next to your table. You lean back in your chair and look up at him. "No."

He gives you a rather proud look and pulls the chair out.

"I said it wasn't taken. I didn't say you could sit there."

"Aw, c'mon," he says, obviously a few ales farther along than you are. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't be unaccompanied in a bar full of guys like us."

You laugh incredulously and fold your arms in front of you. "Nice try, fly boy. But I can take care of myself, thanks."

Of course, he sits down anyway, resting his forearms on the small table and leaning forward. "Trust me, I know this crowd," he says, gesturing to the men sitting nearby. "You're not gonna get a better offer tonight."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Okay, I tried being semi-polite. Now I'm just going to tell you to fuck off. So, you know, fuck off."

"Bitch," he says loudly as he scoots his chair back and stands up.

"Oh, you wound me," you say sarcastically.

"Captain," comes a sharp voice from across the room. You smile as the blood drains from the man's face at the sound of that voice. He turns slowly and audibly gulps as he sees Kenobi glaring at him from the bar.

Now you've gotten yourself in an interesting predicament. You've never actually had a target be a gentleman before.

But Kenobi doesn't move from his barstool, his glare being enough chastisement for the drunk, mouthy officer whose shoulders slump as he mutters an apology to you and walks back to his snickering buddies.

At least this gives you a good excuse to be taking notice of Kenobi. You look back to the bar to find him hunched over his drink, but casually looking over his shoulder in your direction without actually making eye contact with you.

Well, if this plan is going to work, there's no better time than the present to test it out. You stand up from your chair, keeping your back to the wall so your sabre is visible on your hip as you step aside to pull your jacket off the chair back. You stand still, not looking anywhere near him, and swing your jacket around, pushing your arms through the sleeves. Then you pull your long ponytail out of the jacket collar and reach into your pocket and throw some money on the table before walking slowly but deliberately toward the door, making sure to walk past him while remaining out of arm's length. You keep your focus on making it back to your hotel room as you feel his strong senses wrap around you, probing into your mind as you think about a current client who you regularly collect debts for.

You walk through the door of the bar out onto the sidewalk, shielding your eyes from the setting sun as you cross the street, dodging traffic along the way. You can still feel his Force presence around you as you keep walking back to your hotel, although you can tell that he is remaining a safe distance from you. This may work out easier than you thought it would. As long as you can get him into the front door of your hotel, you can tease him with more baited information to get him into your room. Once there, you shouldn't have too much trouble getting the upper hand…as long as he continues to think that he is the one with the upper hand.

Suddenly you feel him right behind you as you turn the corner down a much less crowded, and less desirable, street. The instant you feel his hand on your arm, you spin around, raising your elbow with a sharp jab toward his head. He blocks you easily and shoves you against the hard surface of the adjacent building.

"Who are you?" he demands gruffly, his eyes piercing as he holds you against the wall.

Being used to this sort of treatment in your line of work, you recover quickly, using his self-assurance to your advantage, swiftly grabbing the switchblade from your belt and shoving the handle against his groin. "You get your fuckin' hands off me, or I'll send your dick back to your wife C.O.D." you hiss angrily.

He blinks with a bit of surprise, your tone aggressive enough to throw him off base.

"Are you deaf?" you shout.

He immediately releases your arms and steps back from you. "Why do you carry a lightsabre?" he snaps.

"Fuck off," you say, swinging your hair over your shoulder as you turn your body away from him and walk down the sidewalk, still glancing over your shoulder to keep a watch on him.

"I'm not your enemy," he calls out to you.

The statement causes you to freeze in your tracks. You turn around quickly and glare at him, your anger honest this time.

He steps toward you slowly. "You're a Jedi."

You purse your lips together, deciding quickly that this tactic could work. "Was."

"I'm a Jedi," he offers, his eyes and expression displaying kindness.

"Later," you huff, turning on your heel and walking quickly away from him.

"Not so fast," he says, lunging forward to grab your arm.

You swivel on your leg to kick him, but he knocks you down, holding you there with the Force. You look up at him, and his generous expression is gone, replaced by the classic, stern Jedi visage. "Bastard," you hiss.

"If you wanted to stay hidden, you shouldn't be out cavorting in bars," he chides. "It's funny, really," he says, placing his hands on his hips. "Suddenly you stumble across my path - interrupting a perfectly good shore leave, mind you - while many people have gone to great lengths and expense for the past several years looking for you."

You struggle against his Force hold, remarkably stronger than your own. "Yeah, I think I met a few of them," you say. "Too bad they all ended up dead. But, that's why the Council hires unscrupulous bounty hunters. That way, there's no need for them to mourn the inevitable deaths of common dregs."

Kenobi gives you an icy look. "It will be an honor to finally turn you in."

"You don't know the first thing about me. And I pity the ease with which you hand me over."

"I know all I need to know," he says coldly, reaching down and yanking you to your feet.

In that fraction of a second when his Force hold breaks, you make your move, hurling your fist toward him with the momentum of your rising body, landing a swift punch to his jaw and jumping away from him as he grunts and steps backwards. You fly as fast as your feet will carry you out into the street traffic, using your honed senses to avoid the oncoming assorted vehicles.

Under normal circumstances, no one would have a chance of catching you, but right now you push yourself harder than you ever did, your only advantage being your detailed study of the town's layout before you began this job.

You don't need to look over your shoulder to know that he isn't far behind you, and you can only hope that several months on a warship will have taken a bit of a toll on Kenobi's speed and agility.

Recalling a sizeable freighter shipyard a few blocks from the downtown area, you cut quickly across each street, only hoping that he will not try to enlist local authorities to aid him in the chase.

::Stop running:: his voice suddenly echoes in your head. ::I promise leniency for you if you just cooperate::

::Like hell:: you retort angrily.

::I give you my word:: he replies.

::Your word doesn't mean shit to me, Kenobi::

::So you know me as well::

::How could I not?:: you reply vaguely enough so as not to reveal your own mission.

::Then you know my word is good::

::Your word doesn't mean shit to the Council either:: you snap, your legs moving even faster as the shipyard comes into view. You are relieved when you sense him fall a few paces back, you being lucky enough to clear the last street before the rush of traffic.

You cut behind the large building in front, giving yourself a bit of cover from his sight. You run between a row of smaller buildings and then find your way into a warehouse, climbing quickly up a steep stairwell and positioning yourself on a catwalk with a clear view of the door. Your lungs heave in your chest, and you quickly remove your jacket, your tank top underneath soaked with sweat. You remove your sabre from your belt and wipe the perspiration from your forehead with the back of your hand as you fight to calm your breathing.

You keep your eyes on the door, anticipating his imminent entrance. And then the slightest tremor in the Force causes you to spring to your feet, turning quickly and igniting your sabre as he advances toward you. The attack doesn't entirely catch you off-guard, but you are surprised nevertheless, thinking you had come through the only unlocked entrance to the building.

He swings his weapon with fury and amazing precision as you defend his blows but make no attempt to go on the offensive. Despite being forced to retreat closer and closer to the wall, the feel of his blade crackling and sizzling against yours sends a keen exhilaration through you. You have used your weapon on many occasions since you left the Temple, but never in a battle with a fellow warrior. Although your moves are a bit rusty, your body remembers what to do, and you give silent thanks for keeping up with your practice over the years, even if your training was with thin air.

His eyes are bright as he goes after you with unrelenting aggression, deep grunts and growls shooting from his lungs with each swift blow that you land against his blade.

::You are weak:: he says in your head. ::Don't be stupid. You can't win this::

::Then you'll have to kill me because I´m not going back there to let them do just that:: you reply. Sensing the wall close to your back, you take a deep breath and go for broke, launching upwards and flipping over his head, landing on the other side of him and then leaping off the catwalk and down to the floor below.

He follows close behind you, but you have enough time to make an attack, harnessing your anger and funneling it at him as you fight him off with rapid strikes, the scent of ozone filling the air as your blades spark and hiss.

::Your hatred weakens you even more:: he asserts with a cocky tone. ::The Dark Side has drained your true strength:: he continues as he blocks your attack. ::You are nothing but its slave::

"Shut the fuck up!" you finally shout out loud. "You don't know a fuckin' thing about me," you growl breathlessly as you focus all your strength and fighting passion as you force him back toward the wall, realizing somewhere in the back of your mind that you're helping him tire you out, but the adrenaline racing through your veins is causing a delicious high like you haven't felt in years.

His bright green eyes lock to yours as both of your bodies move in response to each other's attacks, the battle balancing for a few moments equally between you. You hear his breath rumbling in his lungs and see his face and neck glistening with sweat, showing the same signs of exertion as you are. Although deep down you know that he can easily defeat you, at the moment you feel perfectly matched, and you use his strength to inspire your own, causing your confidence to well up inside you.

And then you catch his slight smirk as he swings low and twists his blade around yours, launching your weapon out of your hand. You gasp and hear it land with a loud clank against the floor several feet away from you. You stare at him angrily as he stands mere inches from you. You can feel the heat radiating from his body and his heavy exhalations against your damp skin, the wet ends of his hair sticking to his forehead. And then he disengages his sabre.

You expect something…some winning gesture on his part…something. But he simply stands there as you do, feet spread apart, knees slightly bent, arms out to the side in a defensive stance. You stare at each other, receiving no signals and making no moves. And then your senses pick up an odd, intense vibration that draws out your perceptions as if time is just barely slowing down.

You are not certain who moves first, but you could swear the tandem motion begins as a singular movement. Before you can even register it, your lips meet with furious hunger, his hands sliding through your wet hair, the loose ponytail quickly coming undone. You growl into each other's mouths as your tongues fight for control. You reach up and rip his shirt open, his body hot and wet as you lean into his bare skin, pulling his head down into your kiss as you push him back against the wall.

You grind your hips into his, feeling the hard length poking into your abdomen as your damp trousers hang off your hips, exposing the skin between the hem of your tank and your waist band. His hand tightens on the slick, bare skin of the small of your back, pulling you closer as he rubs against you.

You lower you hands quickly, acting on pure instinct as you run them down his damp chest and stomach, enjoying the feel of his muscular frame. You break from his kiss as he groans, descending to your knees and rapidly unfastening his pants, yanking them down to his knees. You moan approvingly as you eye his large, engorged penis before grabbing his hips and sucking his length into your mouth.

He groans loudly as his hips snap forward and his hand tangles in your hair. You take him to the back of your throat, pressing your tongue against his length as you suck him hard, the vibration of your moan buzzing against his erection and causing him to groan louder.

You encourage the thrusting of his hips, squeezing his firm ass in your hands as you feel both of his hands now on your head, his fingers moving in circular motions around your ears as his feral growls echo off the walls.

And suddenly you feel yourself shoved backward, your back hitting the hard floor beneath you. You grunt as the air is knocked out of your lungs and again when his solid body lands on top of you, his shirt open and his trousers still around his knees.

He kisses you hard, crushing your lips against your teeth as his tongue delves in, sinking deeper and demanding your submission. One of his hands finds its way under your top, caressing smoothly over your breast. You moan and arch up as his thumb enthusiastically plays at your nipple.

He nips at your bottom lip with his teeth and then shoves your tank top up to your neck, sucking your nipple into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. Your fingernails dig into his back as you cry out, his damp chest pressing into your abdomen, your skin sticking together as he desperately tastes your flesh.

The sharp need grows furiously as his fingers slide down to your waistband, swiftly unfastening your pants. He pulls them down until the tops of your boots stop his progress. He leans up on his arms for a moment, his eyes scanning your body. Your shirt is still pushed above your breasts and your pants are gathered at your calves. You spread your bent knees apart as you gaze hungrily at his glistening body, his eyes wild and leaving little doubt as to his intentions. He remains motionless on his hands and knees, his cock jutting out from his body, twitching slightly as he licks his lips while his eyes continue to travel over you.

And then he leans down swiftly, extending his tongue and sliding it across your clit, slipping it along your center in long strokes he moves his entire body by pushing up and down on his arms. You claw at the floor, crying out and sliding your ankles toward your rear as they remain bound together by your pants, spreading yourself wider to him as his tongue slides deeper along your clitoris.

The intense pleasure leaves you writhing helpless on the floor, his tongue hot and wet against your hungry nerves and your cries echoing throughout the empty building.

You growl in protest as he suddenly sits up, his lungs panting as he reaches to your ankles and yanks your boots off, your pants soon following. He grabs your hips and somehow you rise to his kneeling body, wrapping your legs around his waist as you descend on him, his head falling back with a loud groan as his hard penis sinks inside you.

His hips thrust quickly as he pulls you down along his length. You clutch at his shoulders as you ride him hard, angling your hips to feel the hard pressure against your clitoris. You attempt to move faster, needing more from him than the angle allows.

In one swift movement you are on your back again, his hands on either side of your head as he rolls his hips and pumps faster, moving one arm to slide under your back, lifting your body slightly to angle your hips down, causing his cock to massage your clitoris with each deep thrust inside you.

You force yourself to keep your eyes open to watch him, his mouth hanging open and his loud grunts picking up speed in time with his thrusts. Then his arms slides out from under you and his fingers slip between your bodies, stroking your clitoris rapidly as his torso stretches high above you, his flexing muscles gleaming in the light shining in through the high windows.

Your body tremors and you cry out as the tension snaps, jerking your body up to his as you come hard, rolling your hips frantically upwards to ride each wave of your orgasm. A loud, long groan spills out of his lungs as his hips thrust faster, and then he grunts a curse, his body visibly shuddering and his face clenching up as you feel his heat erupt inside you. His hips continue to thrust forward into you as you ride out your orgasm, his body finally collapsing on top of yours.

You lay there for what seems like several minutes, his hot breath panting against your shoulder, your damp bodies entangled as though you are ardent lovers. As your rational senses return to you, you suddenly realize the opportunity presenting itself to you. If there were ever a more perfect time to finish your job, it would be now.

But instead, you shove his body off of you, scrambling as though your life depended on it, never looking at him as you hurriedly dress yourself.

"Wait," he says, his voice hoarse and exhausted.

You reach out desperately with the Force, locating your sabre and calling it to your hand.

And then you run, perhaps even faster than when he was pursuing you, never looking back as you clear the building and escape from him without a second thought.

You slam the door as you storm into your hotel room, you lungs painful from the over exertion and your legs shaking from exhaustion and adrenaline. You march into the small bathroom, turn on the shower, and start ripping off your sweat and dirt-stained clothing as you give yourself a disapproving look in the mirror. You step into the shower and wash away the scent of battle and sex, thinking about the unbelievable last few hours.

"You fucked up good this time," you mumble to yourself as you scrub your hair. The fact is, you have gotten soft over the past couple of years, chasing down two-bit thieves and corporate crooks. You haven't even had a military contract for almost a year. You haven't had to be really careful and sharp for a long time, and you realize that you got too cocky, your Jedi training effective against those with no Force wielding capability. But you overestimated yourself in taking on Kenobi. You could have gotten yourself killed.

"Instead you got a pretty damn good fuck out of it," you sigh with a chiding laugh. Then you pound your fist against the wall, angry with yourself for turning all girl on him. Of course, he turned all boy on you. "What the hell happened there?" you suddenly laugh out loud. Although you don't make a habit of sleeping with your targets, you have been known to do so on occasion when it fit into your plans...and you certainly have never slept with a target you weren't attracted to. But never have you actually stripped down in the heat of battle.

"Well, that's one for the record books," you mumble as you turn off the water and step out of the shower, grabbing a towel to wrap around your hair and another to dry off with.

You sit down on the bed and think. Since you passed up your one good opportunity to knock him out cold after having freaked out from the combat-turned-shagfest scenario, you need a new plan. You still have two days left of his shore leave, so the sooner you act, the more time you'll have to deliver Kenobi to your mysterious client. Your mind toys with the possibility of another naked romp, but given that he's already on to you as a fugitive Jedi, that kind of tactic is a little far-fetched.

"Damn shame," you sigh. You haven't had a man that good in a long time. Long, long time.

Of course, you know you're not exactly a slouch in the figurative bedroom. So you assume, after the token Jedi brooding, Kenobi is probably going to be sound asleep before too long.

You get up from the bed and dress yourself, and then stand in front of the mirror and look into your own eyes. You need to focus and stay sharp this time, not letting Kenobi use any of those chips on your shoulder to throw you off-balance like he did before.

~*~

You walk swiftly through the dark, deserted streets to Kenobi's hotel. It's now going on 2:00 in the morning, and, unfortunately, there's still a fairly sizeable crowd in the hotel bar. Luckily, they all seem far too intent on out-drinking each other. You pause near the bar's entrance, quickly scanning the room with your Force sense and finding no sign of Kenobi. The hotel clerk pays you no mind as you walk to the elevator, and you hope that your cloaking skills are just as effective on Kenobi. You never used the skill very often as a Jedi, only developing it into one of your greatest assets once you became a free agent.

You tug on the thick strap of the large black duffel bag you carry on your shoulder as the elevator rises. This is it. You need to grab him and get him to your ship in the next two hours if your Plan B is going to work. The hard part being the grabbing, of course. And you have no intention of killing him. Not only are you not an assassin, but it's bad enough being on the lam from the Temple for simply fleeing the coop. Facing murder charges isn't on your list of things to do, especially not for off'ing their favorite hero. And as much as all the Jedi would like to believe it, killing is not in your nature. A few bounty hunters have met the business end of your sabre, but none of them would have thought twice about delivering you to the Temple in tiny pieces.

The elevator doors open and you walk quickly down the hall, turning a corner and finding his room. Now the fun begins. You quietly lay your bag on the floor and crouch down, unzipping it and pulling out what you need to begin this game. You put on black leather gloves and carefully remove the small bottle of "blackout juice," a tincture of a highly concentrated herb that can knock a large man unconscious with a whiff of its noxious fumes. Luckily the whiff has to be taken at very close range, so it's an effective weapon when kept at arm's length.

Doing just that, you sprinkle the liquid on a cloth, keeping your arms outstretched as you do so. You cap the bottle and then grab your blaster, set it on stun and then stand before the door. You take a breath to center yourself and then concentrate on the door lock.

You hear the locking mechanism click. Now comes the hard part. If you've judged this correctly, Kenobi's bed should be several feet in front of you when you open that door. But first you have to open the door and hope that the noise and the light from the hallway don't disturb him before you can get a shot at him.

You fold the cloth in your hand to keep the fumes at bay and then place your hand on the doorknob, your blaster held upright in the other hand. You turn the knob slowly and then steady yourself. Your best option is a quick ambush. You stretch out with your senses to verify that there is no movement inside the room, and then you make your move.

You bolt through the door, your eyes unable to see clearly in the dark, but his Force signature resonating from the bed. As the door slams shut behind you, you hear him sit up. And then you fire, the blue energy wave of your blaster illuminating the room and then all falls dark again. You sense a direct hit and then hear a dull thud on the floor.

Your Force sense leading you, you jump to the bed, straddling his body and grabbing his hair. You then shove the cloth over his face, and as the stench of the herb reaches his nose, his eyes fly open, the smell sharp enough to revive him from the stun. Although his body cannot move, you feel him summon the Force around him. You shove the cloth hard up into his nose and then hear him choke. An instant later his entire body relaxes under you, and after a quick mind probe you verify that he is unconscious.

Leaving the cloth on his face for insurance, you climb quickly off the bed and to the door, pulling your bag inside, locking the door, and turning on the light. The first thing you grab is the most important. It's a Force-inhibitor, pilfered from the body of a dead bounty hunter who tried to use it on you a few years back, no doubt given to him by the Council itself. You place the collar around Kenobi's neck, feeling the dead zone spread around him as you snap the lock. Now you just have to remember not to get too close to that thing yourself.

You remove the cloth from his face, running quickly into the bathroom and flushing it down the toilet. Then you tape his mouth and bind his wrists, happy that he is a prepared on-call General and mostly clothed so you won't have to bother with dressing him. And besides, another look at that body of his would most certainly slow you down.

Finding his boots, you shove them onto his legs. Then you look down to see his lightsabre laying on the floor next to the bed. That must have been the thud you heard, and you realize you were a split second away from him having the upper hand. You bend down to pick it up and place his weapon in your bag, the thought of some insipid street urchin brandishing Obi-Wan Kenobi's light sabre convincing you that you need to at least keep it for yourself.

You turn and stand up quickly when you sense him rousing from unconsciousness. His eyelashes flutter as he blinks his eyes, turning his head to the side. His eyes pop wide open when he sees you.

"Lots of surprises for you today, Kenobi," you say dryly.

His eyes narrow on you as he realizes that he's bound and gagged. You sense him trying to reach the Force and see a tremor shake his body when he realizes he cannot.

"You can thank your Council for that," you say. "It's a bitch, aint it? Like someone has ripped out your heart and pulled the world from beneath your feet."

He tries to speak, but it only comes out at a muffled sound, and you don't bother using your skill to figure out what he's thinking because you can pretty much imagine what kind of words he'd have for you.

You reach down and pick up the phone, dialing the number to the taxi service that you memorized earlier. "Yeah, I need a cab. Mirrack Hotel. Tell him to park a little ways down from the door, it's important. Yeah, my boyfriend is a little drunk, and I don't want his troops talkin', if you know what I mean. Great. Thanks." You hang up and then grab your blaster, setting the range for low stun.

He makes another noise as you raise the gun at him, and then you shoot, his eyes clenching shut as the energy wave hits him and then his face relaxes. It's enough to keep him barely conscious, just enough so that his eyes blink and he grunts like a drunk. This routine has worked on everyone, and you're confident it will work on him, too.

You untie his wrists and lug him up to a sitting position, reaching out your arm and summoning his jacket to you, and you put it on him. The Force-inhibiting collar is still visible on his neck, but at close to three o'clock in the morning, no one will notice or care.

You swing your bag over your shoulder and then wind your arm around his waist. Using the Force, you help him stand and then walk him to the door. You concentrate on cloaking the two of you, willing the door to open and then stepping out into the hallway.

~*~

"Nice try," you say, leaning back in your chair as you switch over the controls of your small ship to autopilot. "But I've had much uglier creatures try to stare me down into guilt and fear." You waggle your eyebrows. "Much uglier."

Kenobi sighs, giving you that same dead stare as he sits strapped to the navigator's chair, the tape still over his mouth and the collar around his neck.

"And no, I don't know who paid for this. I don't know where you're gonna end up. If I did know, I still wouldn't tell you. And frankly, I don't care." You swivel in your chair toward him as he gives you a peculiar, disbelieving raised eyebrow. "Oh please," you drawl. "You think I'm gonna give up two hundred grand for a good fuck?"

His eyes flap open a little wider.

"You were good, but not *that* good," you say, stretching out your legs and crossing your feet on the co-pilot chair next to you. Then you look back at him. "Tell you what. Because you were nice enough to fuck me and not kill me, I'll take that tape off your mouth." You stand up and lean over to him, peeling off the very corner of the tape. "But if you start giving me lectures, I shut you up again." With that, you rip the tape off his face, his eyes watering and a soft grunt rumbling in his throat. "Well, you don't need to shave now, I guess."

"How long were you tracking me?" he asks, his voice scratchy.

"Water?"

He looks at you a bit confused. "Please," he says, almost as a hesitant question.

You grab a canteen from the storage unit next to you. "Not long," you say, standing again and putting the canteen to his lips and raising it slowly as he drinks. "Couple days."

"I never suspected it," he says. "I thought you were the unlucky one who crossed my path."

"I was trained by the best," you grin, taking a sip of water.

"You must be good to have survived this long on your own."

"That's right," you say, pointing the canteen at him. "On my own. No Master. No Sith Lord. No Dark Side. Just me."

"And a lot of criminal behavior, I see."

You roll your eyes. "Girl's gotta make a living somehow. Would you feel better if I were a whore or a barmaid? There aren't a lot of career opportunities for dropout Jedi, you know."

"Yes, only attacking and abducting, perhaps murdering, other Jedi," he says, his voice still smooth and calm.

"Listen," you say sharply. "I'm not an assassin. I only kill somebody if I have to. To defend myself. Just like you."

"So only attacking and abducting then," he says. "That's much better. I shall remember to thank you when this is over."

"Listen, Kenobi, this is business. Granted, my heart doesn't bleed for the Jedi and vice versa, but--"

"You're wrong," he says.

"Excuse me?"

"A lot of people hurt when you left."

You cross your arms in front of you. "And how the hell would know? You didn't know me."

"It's just a fact," he says. "It's not everyday that a padawan flees. You hurt people. People who cared a great deal for you."

"Oh yeah? Well, people hurt me, too. So now we're even. They should get the hell over it and leave me alone," you say. "But instead of letting me make my own choice, they want my head."

"They do not."

"Then why are they sending bounty hunters to kill me?"

"They would never instruct that you be killed. You have no idea what--"

"Shut up," you say. "All they did when we were growing up was teach us about the monsters that fallen Jedi turned into. It was propaganda to keep us in line. I chose a different path, and you have no right to question me about things you don't understand."

"So why did you choose a different path?"

"Enough," you say. "I know your game. Hit me with some guilty conscience. Relate to me. Build a connection. And then once I break down and confess my sins to you, maybe you'll get lucky and get to fuck me again."

"No."

"No?"

"No. It was an....interesting experience, but not one I'd want to repeat. Certainly not now that we've had the chance to talk," he says. "Probably one of my worst mistakes, in fact."

"Can't argue with you there," you snap, slamming the cap back on the canteen and sitting down in your chair.

"And besides..." he says.

"Shut up."

"...you'd never be able to make much money as a whore," he adds matter-of-factly.

You sigh with a seething smile and lean your head back on the chair, shaking your head slowly. You know he's trying to piss you off, get you agitated so you make a mistake. You won't give him the pleasure. Instead, it seems that a nap is in order.

"Can I have more water?"

You open one eye and look at him. "No."

"That quixxun herb left a horrible taste in my mouth."

You close your eyes and settle into your chair. "Not as bad as the one you left in mine."

~*~

You are startled by the incessant beeping of your data pad. You swing your legs off the co-pilot chair and reach into your jacket pocket, giving Kenobi a quick glance. He is watching with that same stoic look.

You turn your eyes down to your data pad and see that you have an urgent message from Rallin. As you read his message, your hands begin to shake. "Fuck," you growl.

"What is it?"

"Shut up!" You look back at the data pad again and stare at his words in disbelief: 'Abort mission immediately. Client has canceled contract with strict instructions to abort.' You rub your forehead.

"You've been ordered to abort," he says.

You turn your head, staring at him angrily.

"Lucky guess," he says. "You look terrible. Here you are with me packaged up and ready to deliver. I figured it had to be something like that to get you so shaken up." His expression looks rather proud.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to kill you then," you retort.

"No, you said yourself that you're not a killer," he says with a cocky, amused look on his face.

You jump to your feet and punch that smart ass look right off his face.

"Did you behave this way often at the Temple?" Kenobi snaps, moving his jaw around to make sure you didn't break anything. "Although I suppose it's true what they say about the Dark Side playing to the lowest common denominator."

"It's called survival, Kenobi," you say in a surprisingly measured tone. "You of all people should know what it's like out there in the big, bad galaxy."

"That I do."

"Then your famous Jedi compassion should give you some indication about my life and what I have to do to survive," you say, turning from him to put your data pad in your pocket.

"That doesn't give you an excuse for behaving like a criminal."

You turn back around toward him. "I'm a woman playing in a man's game because living on the fringes is the only way a blacklisted former Jedi can survive. Instead of whoring myself to criminals, I hunt them. I may be crass and impulsive to your perfect Jedi sensibilities, but I make no apologies for who I am or the for the choices I have made."

"I am not a criminal," he says.

"What?"

"You said that instead of whoring yourself to criminals, you hunt them. I am not a criminal."

You raise your eyebrows. "Maybe you are."

"But you never asked, did you?" he says. "You don't even know who hired you to kidnap me. You didn't give any thought to their motives and can convince yourself that your conscience is clear because you wouldn't be the one pulling any trigger on my head." He pauses for a moment and then continues, "Of course, none of that matters now since you no longer have a client. So all you are left with is a rather serious kidnapping charge hanging over your head."

You fold your arms in front of you, glancing at the Force inhibiting collar around his neck. "I never said I didn't have a client."

"But your mission has been aborted."

You smile slightly. "As you recall, you're the one who suggested that my mission had been aborted. I never said that. In fact," you say, turning around and sitting in your chair, "we've simply had a change of plans. I was supposed to dump you on Tatooine. Now we're going to Corellia."

"So why were you so angry?" he asks in a disbelieving tone.

"Because I'm low on fuel, will have to pay for an extra day's charter fee on this ship, and I have another job I need to start tomorrow," you reply calmly as you check your coordinates and fuel supply.

"Look me in the eye and tell me that."

You turn your head and raise an eyebrow at him. "I don't have to prove anything to you."

"Then I call your bluff. Your mission has been aborted, and you don't know what to do now."

You stand up, walk over to him, bend down, and stare him in the eyes until your noses are almost touching. The corner of your mouth perks up when he leans his head back slightly as you invade his space. Your eyes remained locked to his as you say, "I'm low on fuel, will have to pay an extra day's charter fee on this ship, and I have another job I need to start tomorrow." You smile a little bigger as his eyelids blink twice, the rest of his face remaining stoic. You touch your nose to his, his eyes growing slightly wider as you do so, and then you rise up, turn, and walk back to your chair. Lying through your teeth was the first important civilian skill you needed to learn. And without his Force ability, Kenobi's intuition is severely limited.

He remains perfectly silent as you sense his mind sifting through possible escape plans.

"Damn, Kenobi, your mind is like a sieve without your shields," you say distractedly as you continue to check your instruments.

"You do realize," he says, "that when my men discover that I am missing, they'll be sweeping the entire galaxy for me and checking every ship that left that port."

"Yes, but who is going to miss you until shore leave is over?" You finally turn toward him again. "I don't doubt that you inspire great devotion among your troops, but the fact is that they have another entire day of drinking and fucking ahead of them, and I've known enough military personnel to assume that their C.O. is the last thing on their minds right now."

You smile as Kenobi gives you a cold, hard stare, and then you stand up. "I'm going to get something to eat. Want anything?"

"No," he says curtly.

"Suit yourself," you say, stepping out of the cockpit and into the back of the small cruiser. You stand against the back wall and then crouch down, leaning your head against the cool exterior of a storage bin and racking your brain for a way out of this situation. At least Corellia is a good destination. You know it like the back of your hand, not to mention the fact that you can hunt down Rallin and kick his ass for hanging you out to dry.

~*~

"Xanatos."

"Huh?" you say, looking up from your snack of dehydrated something or other as you lean back in your chair.

"Xanatos must be behind this."

You roll your eyes. "Yep. Xanatos and his cohorts, the Boogie Man and the three-eyed Marsniffilus Monster."

"Who else would have the kind of money to hire you. You said it was two hundred thousand credits."

"Oh gods, Kenobi! Xanatos gets blamed for everything from skinned knees to resurrecting the Sith." You hold your hands in the air. "When will you people let that die? Anyone with half a wit knows that his infamous legend is far too overdone to be anything close to the truth."

"I would ask that you use half a wit and recall how he turned on my Master. On all of us, in fact."

"Oh, I get it," you say, your eyes lighting up. "Now I know why you hate me so much."

"I don't hate," he says primly. "Not you, not anyone."

"Yeah, whatever," you say. "So you think that by dragging me in - another fallen one, so to speak - that you somehow make amends for all the shit that Xanatos has done over the years."

"Absolutely not."

You laugh. "So that's why they've been so intent on hunting me down. They thought I was going to run around blowing shit up and whacking people left and right. I must say," you chuckle, "I'm flattered that anyone would think that Xanatos would team up with little ol' me."

Kenobi glares at you. "All I am saying is that it's possible that he's behind this."

"Guess what, Kenobi. I. Don't. Care."

"But if you were to help me figure out who was behind this, then--"

"Spare me," you say, holding a hand up to stop him.

"If you were to help me apprehend the person behind this plan, a person who most likely would have hired somebody else had you refused, I can assure you that the Council would be very grateful for your efforts and--"

"The Council can shove it up their collective ass," you say, smiling at his offended expression. "Yeah, Kenobi, it's fun to say that. You should try it sometime. And besides, you'll find out soon enough who the mastermind is once I turn you over."

"Do you have no respect in you at all?" he says. "Do have no regard for the many years you spent in the Temple? Have you become so callous that you have no conscious about selling out the Jedi to highest bidder?"

You dart up out of your chair and step across the short space to him. You grab his hair and yank his head back. "Let's get something straight here. Being a Jedi meant everything to me, and I gave them my life as everyone does. And then they fucked me over. So if you want to talk about respect and regard, I suggest that you take a good hard look at the hypocrites and criminals in that hallowed Temple of yours."

"What happened?"

You release his hair and step back, glaring at him before turning around.

"Tell me what happened. I could help you."

Your turn to face him. "I don't want your help. I'm glad I'm out. My life may not be noble and heroic, but it's mine. I've put the past behind me, and I have no interest in ever going back."

"You may not want my help, but you need my help. The only way you are going to get out of this with your life is to cooperate with me," he says.

"Bullshit," you say, pulling out your blaster and setting it on stun.

"Don't," he says.

"I've heard enough of out of you."

"I won't say another word. I promise," he says.

"Again, bullshit," you say, raising your blaster and shooting him unconscious.

~*~

You take a deep breath as you descend through the clouds, flying over a sparsely populated area. As you expected, you received no inquiries when you entered Corellian airspace on this side of the planet. There's a reason that smugglers and pirates love this rock.

You pick a scraggly looking valley between two reasonably sized towns, one of which you know fairly well and have already planned where you will go to get a transport to the city.

You purposely bring the ship in for a rough landing, glad that you remembered to buy the charter insurance this time so you won't have to buy the charter company a brand new ship. You kill the engine and jump out of your chair.

Kenobi is still very much unconscious thanks to the bonus stun blast you gave him before making your landing. You quickly untie him from the chair and let his body slump to the floor. You swing your bag over you shoulder and then reach down and release the Force inhibitor, shoving it quickly into your bag. You stand up, flip the distress signal on the instrument panel, and then you turn and hurry to the back door of the ship. You open the door and then turn toward the cockpit. You raise your blaster, set it on low power, and then shoot the chair where you had been sitting. You smile at your perfect judgement, a large blast hole appearing in the back of the chair without a disruptive explosion that could cause a fire.

As soon as your feet hit the ground outside the ship, you hit the panel to close the door. Stepping back several feet, you raise your blaster again, shooting a large hole through the door. It's not a terribly believable scenario given that Kenobi is still alive and well inside, but it's enough to confuse the hell out of whoever gets assigned to inspect the ship for clues since you figure Kenobi will be long gone by the time anyone gets around to finding the ship. It's simply a means to buy yourself some time until Kenobi notifies the authorities.

You back away from the ship and then stop. "Damn," you sigh at your annoying conscience as you run back inside. You unzip your bag, fish around inside it a bit, and then remove his lightsabre, placing down on the floor next to his hand.

With that, you run out of the ship and toward town under the blessed cover of night.

"Ah, c'mon. As a favor to me."

"Rallin, give me one good reason why I should do you any favors."

"I promise, this is an easy one."

You fold your arms in front of you as you stare at Rallin's holographic image. "Yeah, easy like the last one."

"How many times do you want me to grovel for that?"

"Many, many times. You got me in some serious shit."

Rallin gives you an appeasing smile. "But it all worked out. You still got paid, and nobody came to haul your ass to jail."

"Yet," you say, raising an eyebrow.

"It's been two months," Rallin says. "If they wanted to arrest you or whack you, it would have happened by now. There's a lot of shit going on these days. I think the Jedi have a lot more to worry about than you."

"Well, I'd agree with you there if it weren't for the fact that I abducted their prototype."

"They got him back," Rallin says, posing defensively. "What have they got to bitch about?"

You laugh. "It scares me how I'm agreeing with you here."

"See, no problems," he says. "So you'll take the job."

You sigh and cock your head to the side.

"It's simple. Corporate bullshit."

"Yeah, alright," you say. "I could use an easy case."

"Great. I'll send the data through now. See ya, kid."

"Later," you say as Rallin's image fades. You glance at your computer screen at the information he's sending you. It looks fairly simple. Dress up pretty, hit some swanky party, find the corporate blowhard who's been ripping off the company, and then scare the shit out of him. Sounds easy. All except for the dressing up pretty part.

"Damn, I hope I have a dress that still fits," you say, having spent the past couple weeks lounging around with your two hundred grand.

~*~

After a shower, you put on a short T-shirt and some loose fitting pants, the same sort of outfit you've been wearing for your self-imposed time off…the kind of outfit that gives you no hints when you've eaten too much because you keep the drawstring waist nice and loose on your hips.

You walk into your bedroom and then stop when you hear a knock at the door. You saunter over to the front door, not really caring that your hair is still wet, and look out the peep hole. You sigh when you see your landlord.

"I paid you last week," you call through the door.

"No. I received nothing," he says gruffly.

"Shit," you whisper. "Alright, hold on," you say to him as you unlock the doorknob and the bolt. "I did pay you, and I have--" You freeze for a moment when you open the door and see, not your landlord, but a very familiar black-clad figure. You slam the door, but it flies open, shoving you back as he steps inside.

You scramble to your feet and summon the blaster you hide in the hall closet. It flies toward your outstretched hand…and then it freezes in mid-air before dropping to the floor. Before you have time to react, you are knocked to the ground by a Force blow stronger than anything you could hope to muster.

You jump to your feet and run to your bedroom, but he knocks you down again in the doorway. He grabs your arm and yanks you up, and you swing around and backhand him, pounding him on his cheek. A moment later your legs give out, and you slump to the floor.

"You're such a bastard, Kenobi." You try to move but are held firmly in place by the Force, your own ability too weak to break through his hold.

"I could have used a blaster on you," he says. "At least this is more civilized, a far cut above what you did to me."

"Oh, my heart is bleeding for you."

"I'm impressed," he says, standing over you. "You were difficult to track down."

"Good."

"But you've been lazy recently. That certainly helped. Your defensive skills are a little dull as well," he says, looking around your room.

You bristle and try to move again to no avail. "What do you want?"

"Where the collar you used on me?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Why?"

"We want it," he says.

"We? That's mine," you huff.

"We disagree."

"We disagree?" you say, mocking him. "What are you, one of those triangle-headed people?"

"Arconans," he says.

"Whatever." You shake your head to get the hair out of your eyes. "You guys sent out a particularly nasty bounty hunter to slap that collar on me a few years ago. I have no intention of giving it back."

"We didn't do that, and you are not in a position to choose."

"Who the hell else would send a bounty hunter after me?"

"No, I meant that the collar didn't come from the Jedi. The Council may have dispatched a bounty hunter, I don't know," he says.

"They did," you snap. "That slime's mind was so loose I could see Mace Windu as if I were standing right in front of him."

"Regardless," Kenobi says, shifting slightly, "the Council does not hand out Force inhibitors to bounty hunters, or to anyone else for that matter."

"Kenobi, I know damn well they have Force inhibitors at the Temple. I used to live there, remember?"

"I wasn't saying that," he says. "The collar that you have is not from the Temple. The Council wants it."

"So you tracked me down just to confiscate the collar from me?"

"And to take you back to the Temple," he says.

"Fuck you."

"No, thank you," he says, stepping away from you and circling around the bed.

You struggle against the Force hold, but your body can't move. You then hear the floor boards rattle and the rustling of your bag being pulled from its hiding place. You sigh when you hear the zipper.

"Here we are," he says. "I'm disappointed. I expected a more original hiding place than in the floor."

"Bite me," you huff.

"Again, no thank you." He steps back to you and grabs your arm. "Get up."

You feel the Force hold break and you stand quickly, preparing to fight him. And then you are thrown off balance as he slaps the collar around your neck. "No!" you yell, dropping to the floor to scoot away from him. But he bends down and grabs you around the waist, hauling you up and dragging you into the living room.

"You would be wise to make this easy on yourself," he says, his breath blowing a few strands of your hair forward. He pushes you onto the couch and takes a step back.

You jump from the couch and run toward the kitchen, hearing his quick footsteps behind you. As you reach into a cupboard, he grabs your arm and twists it behind your back. You respond by jabbing him in the stomach with your elbow. You move to slip out of his hold when another Force blast hits you, pinning you firmly to the floor.

"Stop this," he says with a hint of anger. "You can't fight me."

You tug at the thick metal collar around your neck. "Get this thing off me."

"No," he says.

"I promise, I won't fight you. Just get it off." You become more agitated the more empty you feel.

"No," he says. "I had to wear that for a good long while, and so will you." He leans back against the wall and crosses his arms. He stands there for several moments just staring at you.

"What the hell do you want?" you seethe, still tugging at the collar.

"You can't get that off until I take it off, so just relax," he says.

You ignore him, inadvertently scratching your neck as you try to remove it, your determination rising as the memories of what happened to you the first time you had it on come rushing back to you.

Kenobi's brow furrows with sudden concern and he steps forward, bending down and removing the collar.

You sigh with relief as you feel the Force return to you. "Thank you," you say quietly.

"Is that where those burn scars on your side came from? The bounty hunter who used this on you?"

You glare at him, pushing at his Force hold until he relents and allows you to stand. "That's why I had to kill the slime," you say, brushing the hair out of your face.

"How did you get free?"

"What do you care? You're just going to drag me back to the Temple and let them lock me up anyway," you say.

"No, I'm not."

You raise your eyebrows. "You didn't come here to arrest me?"

"No. Like I said, I came for the collar. I told the Council what occurred and convinced them you weren't worth the trouble given other concerns facing us these days. I assured them that if you were contacted with contracts on other Jedi, that you would report it to the Temple."

"Bullshit," you say.

"I told them that you promised me you would when you decided to release me and that you had been threatened to take the contract in the first place."

"You what?"

"I lied," he says.

"You lied," you state. "You. Posterboy Kenobi lied to the Council. AND you expect me to believe that you got away with it."

He gives you a sideways glare as he walks forward. "Your mission was aborted, wasn't it?"

"You came here just for the collar. You're not taking me back to the Temple?" you ask, ignoring his question.

"I lied about that, too." He steps forward and grabs your arm as you clench your fist. "Don't," he growls.

"Get the hell out of my apartment," you snap back.

"It was aborted, wasn't it?"

"You have the collar. Now get out!"

"Just tell me--" Kenobi suddenly grabs his sabre off his hip, igniting it as you pull a blaster on him.

"If you're not here to take me back to the Temple, then get out of my apartment and the fuck out of my life," you say as the anger wells up inside you.

Kenobi smirks slightly. "Why do you think we would want you back anyway?" he asks incredulously.

"Out," you say through clenched teeth.

"With pleasure," he says, disengaging his sabre and turning on his heel to walk out of your flat, closing the door quietly behind him.

~*~

You slam your hairbrush down on the bathroom counter and exhale loudly. You really have to get it together. You have a job to do. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You're not sure what's worse, being rattled by Kenobi's visit, or your annoyance at yourself for actually being rattled in the first place.

You look up at yourself in the mirror. The makeup and fitted, short burgundy dress certainly doesn't give the appearance of being a hired gun. It will definitely be good enough for duping a soft-brained corporate type.

All you have to do is get to the hotel, find the party, schmooze your way to your target, bat your eyelashes a few times, and then needle all the information out of his brain that you can. If absolutely necessary, you can drag him up to his room and put a blaster in his face until he tells you what you want to know.

Actually, you think you'll put a blaster in his face anyway, just for the hell of it.

~*~

The hotel concierge gives you a disapproving look, apparently under the impression that you look a bit too tarty for his upscale hotel.

"Are you on the guest list for the party?" he asks snidely.

"Of course. And they can check my name at the door," you say. "All I want to know is where the door is."

He purses his lips together. "Take those stairs up to the next level. The ballroom is there."

"Thank you," you say overly sweetly, turning with a flip of your hair and walking up the stairs. With the help of the Force, you convince the man at the door that you are, indeed, on the guest list and enter the party with little trouble.

You sigh as you scan the crowd. A bunch of middle-aged, middle-management men getting shitfaced in swanky digs. You really aren't getting paid enough for this. You groan when you find your target, the chubby baldy next to the bar.

~*~

Within an hour, you've gotten all the information out of him that you need. How he stole the money from his company, where he put it, and how many whores he's spent it on. And, lucky, lucky you, he's got it in his head that he can buy you, too. The fact that this toad even thinks you'd let him touch you makes your blood curdle.

That's reason enough to put a blaster in his face.

"So, you gotta room here?"

His bulgey eyes pop open, and he grins, making him look like even more of an idiot than he already is. "Yeah, of course."

You gulp down the rest of your drink and raise your eyebrows casually. "Well, let's go then."

Baldy sputters and waddles along side you as you force yourself not to laugh at the pathetic bastard. You try to block the rather repulsive thoughts that he is broadcasting loud and clear as you walk to the elevator. You wait silently for the elevator, hearing nothing but the annoying wheeze of his overworked lungs.

The door finally opens and you step inside. Baldy takes a few seconds longer than you as he waddles in. The doors begin to close, but then they are blocked by a hand slipping between them and forcing them open.

You look up and then huff, "I don't believe this shit."

"You know this guy?" Baldy says.

"Get off the elevator."

You put your hands on your hips. "Kenobi, what the fuck are you doing?"

Kenobi keeps staring at Baldy. "Get off the elevator. You never saw her."

Baldy blinks and does just what Kenobi tells him to do. Then the door shuts and the elevator beings its ascent.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Kenobi?"

"I thought you said you didn't whore yourself," he says in an odd, polite tone.

"Do you want me to kick your ass? Because I'll sure give it my best shot." You step forward and look him straight in the eye. "For your information, I was just going to give him a good scare."

Kenobi nods. "Well, you're good for that."

"What do you want?"

He leans over and pushes the stop button on the elevator. "I want to know your contact."

"No way."

"I want to know who gave you the assignment to kidnap me. The Council wants information."

"Fuck 'em," you say.

Kenobi glares at you and pushes you against the wall. "I'm getting tired of your insults and your attitude."

You put your hands against his chest and shove him hard. "Then get out of my life like I told you to!" You lean over to push the elevator button.

Kenobi moves quickly, grabbing your arm away before you can do anything. "Tell me your contact."

"I'm not telling you shit," you say, reaching quickly into your purse with your other hand and grabbing your small blaster.

Kenobi grabs your other wrist and pushes you back against the wall, knocking the gun from your hand.

Your heart pounds in your chest as anger burns your cheeks. Nobody pushes you around like this. Nobody. You swiftly raise your knee to kick him, but he's too quick, blocking you and pinning you to the wall.

"Tell me your contact," he says evenly.

You feel the pressure in your mind, but your shields are too strong for him. "Fuck y--rrmmhhhh" You freeze with outrage as his mouth muffles your insult. But as his body presses into you, his form solid and heated, your limbs find motion and you raise your knee again, this time to rub the outside of his thigh.

He instantly releases your arms from his grasp, winding one arm around your back and sliding his other hand up your thigh and under the skirt of your dress. One of your hands grabs his shoulder, the other pulling his head closer to you as your lips continue to slide together. He groans in the back of his throat as you glide your tongue against his and press your hips forward.

You gasp for air as his lips leave yours, descending down your neck as you lean your head back, his hand on your thigh roaming up your front to massage your breast. His breath is hot against the sensitive skin of your neck, gently nipping you with his teeth as he moves under your chin to your ear, snaking his tongue along the soft spot under the earlobe as you bite your lip and whimper.

He growls into your ear and lowers his hand from your breast to your thigh, sliding his fingers under your skirt and stroking the smooth fabric of your underwear, pressing his fingers into you as he teases at your center.

You cling to his shoulder and sink into his touch, tangling his hair between your fingers as you close your eyes and move your hips into his hand.

"Mmmmhh," he sighs into your ear. "You like that?" he whispers, circling his fingers against you.

You moan and then release your hands and move them down his body. "That's the trouble with you, Kenobi," you gasp, reaching to unfasten his pants. "All talk, no action."

He moves his hand away from you suddenly, leaning back to look at you. He stands perfectly still, his hair slightly askew from the play of your fingers. A split second later, he crushes you to the wall, his kiss fierce and determined, his tongue leaving you breathless as it insistently winds around yours.

Your hands move with hurried purpose now, unzipping his trousers and pushing them down. You feel the warm length of his penis poking against your thigh, and as your wrap your fingers around it, he groans into your mouth. He latches his fingers under the elastic of your underwear, sliding them off your hips and then rubbing his fingers against your clitoris.

You break away from his kiss and moan, feeling yourself sliding up against the wall as his arms hoist you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and then knock your head against the wall as he swiftly slides inside you. The feeling of him filling you is electric, your bodies trembling against each other and the vibration of his groan against your neck heightening the erotic energy between you.

You hook your ankles together behind his back as he begins to thrust in and out of you. You squeeze his head and shoulders tight, leaning your head slightly forward as the pleasure spreads through you. As his hips begin to roll with a steady rhythm, you lean back again, letting out a staggered moan as his cock slides fluidly across your clitoris and inside to those hidden nerves that have been aching for him for the past two months, a need you insisted on suppressing and that is now unleashing itself with ravenous desperation.

"Nngghhh…you feel so good," he groans against your neck. "So good."

That does it. Your body shivers as the rugged silkiness of his voice seeps under your skin. You bite your bottom lip and whimper softly, the friction building the delicious coil inside you. "Faster…please…" you pant.

You feel his feet shift slightly and then his hips thrust faster, his erection plunging inside you making slick, erotic sounds with each intense movement of his hips. Your mouth drops open and you moan in time with his thrusts, leaning your head against his as you feel the edge swiftly approaching.

He groans when you tighten your muscles around his length, his heavy breaths against your neck causing a tantalizing humidity to spread across your skin. His entire body participates in the motion of his hips, his muscles tensing and flexing with fervent intent, his mind connecting to yours to bring a greater pleasure to the joining of your bodies.

You grasp at shoulders as the pleasure builds, having forgotten what it felt like to have a linking of minds as well as bodies, your arousal intensified by the sensation of his approaching climax.

You cry out as you move your hips against his, chasing after what you need so badly. And then it hits you, his cock sliding across every desperate nerve and releasing a rush of pleasure so fierce that your eyes fly wide open, your throat closing off and barely a squeak escaping you as the waves of orgasm pulse through you. With another breath, you moan, squeezing your fingers into the back of his neck as he draws out your climax, rolling his hips until his body shudders, a grateful moan buzzing against your skin as you feel, through your linked minds, his orgasm begin, the sensation only increasing the pleasure of your own.

He grunts as you feel his semen spill into you, your body slumping against his as you hold on tight, his hips still rolling up, gradually slowing as he sighs contentedly. His cheek slides up your chin, the stubble tickling against your cheek. And then his lips find yours, and you whimper as he kisses you slowly, the afterglow wrapping around you as he remains buried deep inside.

In sharp contrast to your previous encounter, you remain embraced, enjoying the feel of him pressed against you and holding you up to the wall. Slowly, he finally slides out of your body, lowering you to the floor and resting his forehead against yours.

"There we go, making big mistakes again," you say.

The corners of his mouth curl up slightly. "You seem to cause all sorts of trouble for me."

"Watch it," you say. "Just because I let you have the good stuff, doesn't mean I can't take you down when you're not looking."

"Ha," he says. "I'd like to see you try."

"Don't tempt me."

He raises his eyebrows. "Why not?" he purrs, teasing your lips with the tip of his tongue.

You sigh, gently pushing him back. "Okay, I have work to do now."

His face drops. "You're kidding."

"No. I'm quite serious. I have to find Baldy Chubby and finagle some account numbers out of him."

Kenobi's mouth drops open in disbelief.

"You have your job, I have mine. Wait for me back at my apartment. It won't take too long," you say, attempting to straighten out your hair with your fingers.

He shakes his head. "You come to my hotel room when you're done."

"Nooo," you say. "You go to my apartment."

He folds his arms and gives you a stern look.

"That really isn't very persuasive with your pants hanging down around your knees." You reach over and press the elevator button, retrieving your panties and blaster as he pulls up his trousers while giving you a sideways glare. "So," you say as the elevator comes to a stop, "I'll see you at my place in a few."

"No. I will be at my hotel room," he says.

You shrug your shoulders as the door opens. "Suit yourself. I'm going home. You know where it is when you wise up."

"I'm really going to have to do something about this attitude of yours," he says as you step off the elevator.

"Yeah? You and what army?"

"Actually--"

"Shut up, Kenobi."