DISCLAIMER You know...even if Lucas does read this...I don't think he'd want it...or us, for that matter :-)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Caeryn stared at the screen, choking slightly as the latest changes to the General's schedule scrolled up. The little cursor blinked in seeming innocence, oblivious to the portent of the words that had just spewed forth from the office of the President's Secretary..

What in the *hell* was Die thinking? One eyebrow quirking in puzzlement, she lowered her tea cup to the saucer sitting on the desk. Absently brushing the scone crumbs from her form fitting one piece green jump suit she nibbled at her lower lip, reaching for the phone and keying in the number she needed. After a brief ring it was promptly answered by just the person she was looking for.

Clinic.

Darry? This is Caeryn...listen, something's come up...did you clear this appointment?....'what appointment?' The General's nine-thirty on Monday....yeeessss, I know he normally sleeps in on Monday...it's right here...just came up with the refresh batch, check your computer....yah, that's it...nine-thirty, Monday...

The Dean broke off suddenly as a stream of graphic medical expletives replaced the characteristic unruffled tones of the university's lead medic. Holding the phone gingerly at the twelve inch mark from her ear Caeryn listened for a few minutes as Darry began to make up exotic phrases on the fly.

I'll take that as a no."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Brenda tentatively clicked on the "confirm" button, breathing a sigh of relief when the computer beeped its acquiescence...as opposed to self destructing in front of her. After five system crashes she was beginning to gain a new appreciation for Die's technical expertise...and paranoia--there were three layers of passwords to access everything on the system.

Humming softly as the computer whirred to life, processing her latest request, she pushed the wheeled chair back and sauntered over to the coffee pot to pour herself a cup as she waited for the older Pentium to finish tasking.

She had barely taken a sip of the rich French roast blend when the solid oak door from the hallway slammed open forcefully to admit the University Dean.

Caeryn frowned sharply as she saw Brenda jerk slightly, a few drops of her coffee spilling over the side of her newly filled mug...or rather, *Die's* newly filled mug.

"Is Die in with the President?" Striding up to the Secretary's desk, Caeryn sceptically regarded the cluttered surface of Die's normally impeccable desk...Die never cluttered her desk on the off chance that she could get Kenobi nekkid on it...

Caeryn could personally attest to the fact that being pinned by the General on a desk was much easier for all concerned without the minor impediments of strewn paper and random writing utensils getting in the way.

The dressed for action -- and not the nekkid General kind -- Ho quirked an eyebrow as she noticed Brenda's caged look...interesting.

"She's taking the day off."

Caeryn blinked slightly. "I beg your pardon?"

"To write. She needs to finish a story."

"I see...she told you that?"

"Well, no...Ban told me that."

"Uh, huh....did Die *want* to take a day off?" For some reason Caeryn really couldn't see the original Ho actually volunteering to put space between his fuckableness and herself.

"Well, it was the General's idea..." Definite cagey look there.

Suspicious. Brenda looked as though she were trapped in close proximity to an explosively active volcano. Completely unlike Die to take a day off and not mention it beforehand. And since when did the General order the staff to take days off to finish stories? If that was the case, Caeryn was due for about a week's leave.

"Oh it was, was it. I don't suppose he had any help with this...idea?"

Brenda looked desperately around for some way out. Fortunately for the Dean and unfortunately for Brenda, no convenient excuse presented itself.

"Ummm....I think Ban may have mentioned it...during their appointment last night..." Brenda's voice was quiet, toned more like a hopeful question than an affirmative answer.

Caeryn pressed her lips together, dropping her eyes to regard her steepled fingers in front of her stomach. So Banoire had 'suggested' that the General relieve Diebin of duty so that she could finish her fic...

Not that the Dean didn't want her to finish her story...quite the reverse, but it was the principal of the thing that struck her. Ever since neatly usurping Emmy's appointments for the week Banoire had become a wee bit smug...and now it appeared that she was throwing her weight around with the General.

Time to rein that in before it became uncontrollable.

"What's on his schedule for the rest of the day?"

"Um....lunch with you at noon...appointment with Emm...er, Banoire at two...his original appointment with Banoire at four, followed by a dinner with Darry at six."

"Cancel everything before his dinner with Darry."

Brenda's jaw fell open, her eyes flying wide at the sudden command.

~You'd think I asked her to dye his hair pink~

Fixing the trembling ho with her most imperious Administrative Authority look, Caeryn settled the brown leather belt around her hips a little better, brushing an imaginary piece of lint from the short cropped brown suede jacket that terminated right at the bottom of her rib cage.

"Was there a problem?"

Shaking herself, Brenda lowered her coffee cup and walked back to the desk, vowing under her breath that this was the last time she would fill in for Diebin.

Satisfied that the other woman would comply with her request, the Dean turned gracefully on one calf hugging brown suede boot and strode purposefully in the direction of the General's inner office.

"Actually....There was one...little thing..."

Stopping without turning, Caeryn looked back over her shoulder at Brenda.

"Um, the President requested I set up a meeting with the university's primary benefactor on Monday...but I can't seem to locate the file..."

"Which file?" Caeryn was rather proud of the fact that her voice remained nonchalantly level.

"Um...the one on the University's funding."

"Of course not...that would be in the Comptroller's Office...but you don't have clearance for that data. Just leave it for now and I'll make the request for you." For the umpteenth billion time, the Dean thanked the endless series of paper pushing jobs she had held previously that allowed her to side-step questions like that. "Just fill in the appointment when he requested it and we'll deal with the details later."

There were many things the General and the majority of the student body were unaware of...their primary source of funding was--and would remain--one of them.

"Taken care of."

"Right then." Caeryn paused before opening the door to the inner sanctum of General Worship, taking a deep breath as she reached to turn the knob. Mentally running through the Ho Rules of Engagement as she steeled herself to withstand the look.

Number 1: Avoid making eye contact.

The door swung open, forgotten, as the Ho grabbed the doorframe for support. Rule number one grabbed an immediate one way ticket to hell as the hunched figure sitting at the desk looked up at the intrusion.

Oh. My. Goddess.

Slivers of sunlight crept in through the cracks between the half closed drapes, illuminating the coppery medium length silk of the General's Hair and dancing in the sparkle of his teal eyes, framed exquisitely in subtle wire rim glasses. He was wearing a white shirt that hung loosely from his lean frame. Somewhere in the back of her goo-ified brain, Caeryn identified the cut as that of what was traditionally referred to as a pirate shirt.

Staring as she was at the way the soft linen clung to the rippling muscles of his arms and chest, her own term was much more to the point...wrapping paper...to be ripped off at the first available moment.

"Caeryn...." The dulcet tone caressed past the velvet lips, sinking insidious claws into each of her nerves, causing a spasmodic shudder to sweep through her body. "You're early, my dear."

As her bones turned to molten wax she almost clinically reflected on the wisdom of rule number two...

Don't let him say *anything*

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Diebin stared at her computer screen, biting savagely at the sugarless, chocolateless nutrition bar she had been reduced to eating by some overbearing, barely-passed-medschool, slept-with-the-head-surgeon- during-my-residency doctor.

How was she supposed to write inspired smut without chocolate and the General. It was incredibly unreasonable to expect her brain to function under such adverse conditions.

Pouting slightly, tossing the rest of the dubiously edible plastic protein bar into the trash, she pulled her hands inside the long sleeves of her flannel pj top, scuffing her feet against the plush carpet under her feet as she stared accusingly at the computer screen.

Briefly, she considered setting fire to something just to watch it burn, but gave over the idea because she doubted Ban would let her out of this room before the smut was delivered even if the building was to burn down around their ears.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Emmy frowned. The pinks were definitely out. The doll looked like a bad Boy George nightmare. The only thing that was missing were the rags in the hair...

Inspiration struck in the form of superglue. Humming happily to herself, she shook up the microdispenser and pondered her design. The shiny pale beige of the nekkid obi doll's plastic skin begged for some sort of adornment.

Well, Emmy didn't know the first thing about oriental calligraphy, but she'd seen enough college sorority and fraternity posters to get a basic grasp of some Greek....

Trace with glue...sprinkle glitter...trace some more....sprinkle glitter....

Crap! The sharp ring of her private phone caused her to squirt superglue all over the doll's back. Transferring the doll to one hand, she reached to pick up the phone.

"Hallo?"

"Is this Emmelin Supahdiva?"

"Come again?"

"Ummm...Emmy? Is this Emmy's phone."

"What's it worth to you?"

"Um well...you see, she gave me this number..."

"I did? Who is this?"

"Josh. We met the other night when you were over here at WC..."

A brief alcohol fogged vision of dancing on top of a long wooden conference table with a bunch of boys floated to the forefront of Emmy's rather bemused mind.

"Refresh my memory..."

As she listened to the boy ramble on about her extraordinary dancing skills she regarded the obi doll still clenched slightly in her hand.

Hmmm...needed more of the blue eyeshadow.

"Well...Josh, was it? To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?" Absently, she reached for the box of Mary Kay cosmetics on her bedstand.

This definitely called for some blush...and possibly some eyeliner too....

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"So what exactly is the problem?" Caeryn kept her eyes glued firmly to her hands where they sat in her lap.

After breaking rule number 3 by allowing the General to touch her as he helped her to a chair, she had managed to salvage some of the situation and redeem her flagging sense of determination.

Silence.

Drumming her fingers against her thigh she steadily avoided raising her eyes, repeating the first rule over and over to herself.

"Well?" She prompted.

"She gave up her appointments."

Sighing, Caeryn risked a glance in the direction of the sun soaked windows. "I thought we already covered this...you aren't bound by that schedule. It is meant as a general chronology...simply to give you some sort of an agenda for the day...rarely do things work out to the exact timing...and you've never felt constrained by it before."

A soft sigh from his direction. The dean shuddered slightly as she imagined the damp lips parting to emit that soft exhalation. Her wandering attention was not helped by the fact that she knew he was wearing black leather pants. She'd received an eyeful of them as she had swooned in the doorway as he moved to help her to a chair.

Slipping her hands under her thighs to sit on them and thereby keep herself from balling them into fists of frustration, she frowned.

"I realise she gave up her appointments, but it wasn't completely spontaneous...she was very reluctant to do so."

"But not reluctant enough..."

The words were so soft she almost missed them. Suddenly, it hit her. Damaged Ego...first Dande...then Emmy giving up her appointments...then that Es-smelly-whats-her-name chic not swooning... now Aya wandering around completely impervious to the stance and the look.

What they had here was an General who thought he was loosing his touch. She could easily prove that assumption wrong...unfortunately, she would immediately forget why she had come in here in the first place if she allowed that to happen.

"I already told you...it was a selfless act to spare *us* further anguish...you have no idea how annoying that song is when played over, and over, and over, and over...."

No response. Not quite the reaction she had hoped for. Bracing herself, she deliberately swung her eyes around to look at him.

Good...good...not swooned yet....now up to eyes....up...up damit!!!....past the black leather clad thighs...past the bulge....emphasis on *past* the bulge....there ya go....okay, ignore the bit of chest hair peeking out through the cross-lacing of the pirate shirt...alright....lips....no, keep going....nose...mmmmm....eyes...goood...made it to the eyes....

Her mental train of thought came to a dead halt as he slowly removed his glasses and pinned her with the most amazing cerulean gaze, shifting his stance to half lean, half sit back against the edge of his solid oak desk...very solid desk....

"Please?" She managed to squeak the word out, although what she was pleading for was no longer certain to her.

"So you want me to go to Emmy and...console...her?"

Frowning slightly, trying to reign in her rampant imagination as she watched the leather shift with the subtle adjustments of his legs, Caeryn began to get a headache from maintaining her concentration.

"Not console exactly...she's feeling very abused right now. She makes this incredible sacrifice to spare us trauma, assuming you will be generous enough to give her a few spare moments...."

The Dean momentarily lost her train of thought as the University President absently rubbed the skin under the gaping collar of the soft white shirt with the fingers of one hand.

Gulping slightly, Caeryn firmly fixed her eyes on a point somewhere beyond the General's shoulder.

"And all of a sudden, you develop this raging compulsion to adhere strictly to your appointment schedule. She's already set the record for depravation...you remember how bad I was after that overnighter away from campus? I was beginning to have serious discussions with my teddy bear...who I might add, is a rather stimulating conversationalist, despite what others may think. Is it any wonder that Emmy is flying apart at the seams? She's gone more than twice that time without some."

Silence.

Deciding to get it all out in the open, the Dean took another breath before plunging in. "So, the question is not why did she give up the appointments...it's why are you letting her go bazonkers by withholding sex?"

Risking her sanity, she allowed her eyes to meet the his thoughtful gaze.

"An excellent question." He mused.

"Well...." She floundered slightly, once more caught in the oceanic tractor beam of his eyes. "Just don't think about it for too long. Darry is starting to run out of suggestions to release all the pent up frustration and I don't think the Wanker College Boys are ready for another display of Emmy's singular brand of Divaness...no doubt, most of them are already traumatised for life."

"She does have a very...commanding presence." Slight Chuckle. "So what do you propose I do?"

"I should think it would be obvious."

Raised eyebrows...damn, but he looked good enough to eat when he did that....not that he didn't always look good enough to eat....

"Go give her that Prowling General Lovin'" Caeryn gestured vaguely with her hand in the direction of the door.

"Hmmm...an excellent answer."

Under the intensity of his gaze, coherent thought became a high priced luxury that the Dean had no hope of affording. Licking her lips slightly, she allowed her eyes to survey his leather clad legs appraisingly.

"But first...we have a lunch appointment."

"I do believe you're right. Any idea what you'd like to have?"

Deep throated chuckle from the Ho. Uh Duh!