"So where are we staying?" Emmy asked as she flipped through Darry's Cosmo. She figured the Nurse wouldn't really miss it when she saw it lying in the mail pile before she and the General left. Besides, everyone knew that a shuttle trip to Coruscant was a Cosmo read-through long. She needed to take it.

"Well, we can stay at the Temple, of course," the General replied, pushing a stray lock of unkempt hair out of his face.

Emmy looked up from the Cosmo, turned her head to look at the General, and arched her eyebrow very high.

Without a word, the General stood up from his aisle seat and walked to the public comm room at the back of the shuttle.

~*~

The General quickly looked out the window. "Alderaan," he said, nodding toward the planet they were passing.

"Mmm-hmmm."

~*~

"Alright," the General said as he lugged the last of Emmy's luggage into the bedroom, "the first thing I need to do is go the Temple and--"

"No, no," Emmy said. "The first thing you're doing is getting your hair cut."

The General smiled obligingly and kissed Emmy's forehead. "I'll get it cut at the Temple."

Emmy put her hands on her hips. "The Temple barber? What kind of Jedi ends up being the barber?"

"But it's free," the General said rather weakly, not quite certain how to make his point, if he even had one, in this particular situation.

Emmy rolled her eyes and turned to walk into the bedroom. "You're going to see my guy. I already made you an appointment."

The General sighed.

~*~

The General's nose twitched, the aroma of the salon striking him as somewhat displeasing. He looked around at the posters on the wall, images of people with hair he couldn't imagine anyone wanting.

"Would you like a smock?"

He looked up at the receptionist who blinked her long eyelashes at him, an intriguing smile on her face.

"No, he wouldn't," Emmy said, shooting the cheeky girl a look.

The General tried to hide his smile. A possessive Ho, while perhaps not entirely healthy, was always good for it and then some.

"Emmy!"

The General looked down the hall toward the direction of the voice.

"Brian!" Emmy responded with an excited smile, springing out of her chair.

"Who's Brian?" the General asked, not entirely pleased that she was ignoring him and sashaying toward the tall man with the frosted hair. His gaze narrowed as he observed Emmy and Brian air kiss each other's cheeks.

"You look FAB-ulous," Brian gushed. He played at Emmy's hair with his fingers. "But you could use some highlights."

"Oy, long story," Emmy said, flapping her hand at him. Then she turned to the General and waved him over.

The General rose slowly and walked cautiously over to Emmy and Brian.

"Brian, this is Obi-Wan. He needs your help," Emmy said.

"Mmmmm," Brian responded with much more interest than the General liked. "Come," Brian said, stepping quickly behind the chair and turning it around. "Sit."

The General bit his lip and looked at Emmy.

Emmy reached up and pulled the elastic out of his hair, freeing the ragged ponytail. Then she looked at him expectantly.

The General steeled himself and sat down in Brian's chair, his sabre banging into the side of the chair.

"Jedi," Brian said appreciatively. Then he looked up at Emmy, "Nice job, girlfriend."

The General looked nervously at Emmy again but then she disappeared from view as the chair whipped around to face the mirror.

"Oh," Brian gasped, smoothing the General's hair away from his face. "What a beautiful hairline!"

The General winced.

"Well, yes," Emmy said. "But I want it shorter."

"Of course," Brian said, running his fingers through the General's hair in typical stylist evaluation fashion.

The General shifted in his chair and clenched his fists. If his Ho's wanted to play with his hair, that was fine. But not some man with frosted hair.

And a pierced eyebrow.

And.... The General squinted into the mirror to get a closer look at Brian.

And eyeliner.

The General tried to sputter the hair out of his face as Brian suddenly pushed it forward. "So, we'll shorten it up, give you some shape."

"Yes," Emmy said. "Bangs about at his eyebrows. The back," she reached forward and felt the back of his neck, determining exactly where it should fall. "Well, no longer than his collar."

"Of course...yes," Brian said as though suddenly experiencing a mystical vision. "I'll taper it down here," he said, his fingers brushing the back of the General's neck.

The General flinched.

"Yes," Emmy said.

"You know what would be fabulous?" Brian said, his eyes growing wide with inspiration. "Highlights from here to--"

"No," the General finally said rather definitively.

Brian placed his hand delicately against his chest.

Emmy smiled. "Let's just go for the haircut, Brian."

"Alright," Brian sighed, suddenly wrapping the General in a cape. "Let's shampoo...I'm thinking a citrus cleansing with a green tea rinse."

"Perfect," Emmy said. "I'll be back in about an hour."

The General's arm suddenly shot out from underneath the cape, and he grabbed Emmy's arm. "Where are you going?"

"Just going to do a little shopping," she said, patting his cheek. "I leave you in good hands." She kissed his head and walked away.

The General watched Emmy's retreating reflection. He considered the possibility of making a break for it. But then, as though her Ho-ichlorians had suddenly turned to midichlorians, Emmy looked over her shoulder and gave him a look.

"Well, let's get started," Brian said, winging the chair around again.

The General sighed and rubbed his forehead. Then he sighed again and slowly followed Brian to the sink.

~*~

"You look great," Emmy said, feeding herself shrimp cocktail as the General sulked on the sofa in their hotel room

"I smell like a woman," he grumbled, folding his arms.

Emmy rolled her eyes. "It's only hairspray."

"Exactly," the General said rather indignantly. "It smells like your hair."

Emmy set her snack down on the table and put her hands on her hips. "And what's wrong with the way my hair smells?"

The General had that uh-oh feeling. "Nothing. Nothing at all. It's a lovely scent....just not on me."

"You're impossible," she said, settling on the sofa next to him and messing up his newly coiffed hair.

"*I'm* impossible?" he asked incredulously, grabbing her wrists and pushing her back, pinning her down to the sofa.

"Yes," she said with a smile. "Punish me?" she asked coyly.

The General grinned and leaned down.

And then the phone rang.

"Don't," Emmy protested as the General lunged for the phone.

"Hello?" he said, a hopeful expression on his face. "Oh. No, it isn't," he said, his face dropping. "That's alright. Goodbye," he said despondently.

"What's the matter?" Emmy asked as she sat up quickly.

"Wrong number," he sighed.

Emmy's face scrunched up. "Why so glum?"

"Oh, I thought it might be one of the girls."

Emmy's eyebrows shot up. "You're kidding."

"Well, they must notice by now that we're gone. I thought maybe that--"

"Oh, so you're just sitting here waiting for your ungrateful Ho's to call you," Emmy said.

"I just hope that they're alright," he said. "Darry seemed rather flustered the last time I saw her. Dorotea was so afraid that I hated her. Diebin....well, I'm not sure where she is. I haven't seen my Jaelly in weeks. Shana and Laure both seem to be consuming far too much wine. Poor Caeryn is probably quite distressed over the frozen hallways, despite her newfound sport."

"Distressed?" Emmy snorted.

"Sometimes I wonder if they still need me at all," he sighed. "They seem to all be doing fine without me. But I miss them," he said, looking out the window at nothing. "I wish they were all here right now."

"*I'm* here," Emmy said through clenched teeth.

The General smiled and turned toward her. "Yes. And I appreciate that very much."

"You appreciate that very much?"

The General nodded.

Emmy quickly pushed away from him and stood up. "You appreciate that very much??" she said louder.

The General suddenly remembered one of the basic lessons he learned years ago when he was first taking his pilot lessons - Never let a spacecraft take you somewhere your brain didn't get to five minutes earlier. "Emmy."

"Fine," she said. "If you miss them so much, just go on back to them. Good luck luring them out of their coffins, clinics, and...and....and wherever else they are!"

"I'm sorry," he said, following her into the bedroom. "I didn't mean that--"

"See if I ever let you use my nail polish remover again," she said, stomping her shoes on. "Just see if I ever drop all my commitments in order to devote every waking moment to you to assuage your bruised ego."

The General sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I didn't mean that I don't apprecia-- love spending time with you, being alone with you."

"They knew exactly where you were the entire time. They knew where to find you. They knew how to make appointments if they wanted them, which they obviously didn't. They knew how to get your attention," Emmy ranted. "And did they?"

The General pouted slightly.

"Did they?!"

"No."

"No! They didn't!"

"Well, Diebin did drag me out of your room. And Judy and Julia both--"

"Okay, fine," Emmy said. "But the rest?"

The General remained silent.

"Uh-huh!" she exclaimed. "You see, the first step is that they actually have to notice that you're gone!"

~*~

Back at HSU....

Coffins shimmied.

Clinic doors rattled.

Armor squeaked.

Hockey sticks hit the ice and bodies hit the walls.

Elves cackled.

~*~

"So good luck, Kenobi!" Emmy rummaged in the closet and pulled out her jacket, putting it on quickly and grabbing her purse.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Out." Emmy marched toward the door.

"Please don't go," he said. "I'm sorry if I upset you."

"I'll bet you are," she huffed. "Cuz now you're not gettin' it from anyone!" she shouted as she stormed out the door and slammed it behind her.

~*~

Outside a Coruscant transport station, Julia and Sere tried to hail a cab.

"Four Seasons, you think?" Julia asked, examining the downtown hotel guide.

"The Diva? Most definitely," Sere said.

~*~

The incessant banging on the door jolted Dande out of her near-thudded state as she combed da Mastah's hair.

"I'll handle this," he said, standing up and walking toward the door.

Dande fanned herself at those words.

Qui-Gon opened the door and in flew a short woman with a hell-bent Force signature.

"Where's Dande?!"

"Emmy!" Dande said, hurrying forward to hug the Alpha Ho.

"Dande, I have a disast--" Emmy froze suddenly, her brain finally catching up to her. She turned slowly and looked over her shoulder.

"Um...Emmy," Dande said a bit nervously. "My Mastah has returned."

Emmy smirked at Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon smirked at Emmy.

"Isn't it wonderful?" Dande said.

Deciding that her troubles were far more important than an alpha standoff, Emmy flapped her hand in Qui-Gon's direction and then turned back to Dande. "I've got big problems."

Dande's eyes grew wider. "What is it?"

"He doesn't love me anymore!"

"Oh, Emmy," Dande said. "Of course he does."

"It's true. He'd rather have all those ungrateful, unfaithful Ho's."

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes.

"I saw that!" Emmy said without turning around.

"Now, come sit down and tell me all about it," Dande said, leading Emmy into the living room.

"Do you have any shrimp?" Emmy sniveled.

"Of course," Dande soothed, patting her on the shoulder.

Qui-Gon grumbled.

~*~

The General stood outside the hotel waiting for a cab. He needed to go to the Temple. Hopefully, the peaceful environment would help him to center and give him the energy he needed to deal with all his Ho's.

~*~

"Baby, one more time, hit me, hmmmm...." Yoda sang while pounding his gimmer stick to the beat of the blaring stereo in the Mastah Lounge.

Mace Windu sighed and rubbed his forehead.

~*~

The General continued to wait for a cab. Finally, deciding that a walk would be better for his sanity, he turned and swaggered down the sidewalk.

Then he stopped.

Having never been to the Four Seasons while he was a destitute Temple dweller, he wasn't quite sure which way to go, his Force sensitivity hindered by sleep deprivation and all around testosterone confusion.

He looked up and down the street a few times, never actually considering asking for directions. Then, with a slight hunch, he swaggered in the other direction, eliciting many appreciative glances.

Approximately one nanosecond after he rounded a corner, a cab finally pulled up in front of the hotel.

And out stepped Julia and Sere. They looked up and up and up at the tall building.

"Penthouse?" Julia asked.

"Most definitely," Sere said.

~*~

"She's dead...dead....completely dead....one hundred percent dead," Dorotea muttered under her breath, reading through her extensive 'How to Whoop Ass On Your Girlfriends' spell book as her shuttle took off toward Coruscant.

The End