~*~ Afraid I was going to leave without giving you a goodbye kiss? ~*~

Emmy looked at Brenda. "She did what?"

"Umm . . ." Brenda glanced at Cal, hoping the Padawannabe could offer some suggestion as to how to get around Emmy. Cal shrugged, backing away a step or two with wide eyes. Obviously his intense study of the General had not yet yielded the secret to managing the Supah Diva.

"She. Did. What." Emmy's eyes were wide, her nostrils close to flaring.

The Ho-in-Training winced. "She left with George." There. She'd said it.

Emmy pounced on the phrase. "She /left/ with George, or she left /with/ George."

"Well . . ." Brenda glanced at Cal again, who glanced at Vocab Man. Vocab Man dove under the table, his frilly orange dress snagging on the table and tearing slightly.

The sound of ripping fabric, usually a pleasant diversion, couldn't distract Emmy now. She stared at Brenda, calling on all the power of her Supah-Diva-Ness.

"/With/ George," Brenda whispered. "Listen . . . you know Diebin doesn't have all that high a tolerance . . . and . . ."

"You LET her? Why didn't you STOP her?" Emmy cried out, waving her hands in the air in exasperation. Cal apparently decided there was something under the table that needed to be examined, because he dove under it pretty damn fast.

"Are you crazy?" Brenda snapped, her fear of Emmy momentarily forgotten. "You want me to tell Diebin what to do? That girl is a loose cannon . . . especially after George bought her that fifth Sex on the Beach . . ."

Emmy dropped her head into her hands. "This is really, really bad."

"I don't see why," Brenda said tentatively. "I mean . . . Diebin can take care of herself. And anything she can't take care of, George certainly can."

"You don't understand," Emmy said mournfully. "Diebin is a ho when she's drunk."

Brenda blinked. "I thought Diebin was a Ho all the time."

"Not a Ho," Emmy said. "When she's drunk, she's a ho. No capital H, and no honor."

"Does that mean . . ." Brenda's eyes went wide. "She wouldn't!"

Emmy leveled a glare at Brenda. "Diebin is drunk, most probably horny, and just left the bar with a very climbable man in a loincloth. The fact that he is not the General will probably not register in her alcohol-fogged brain until the damage is already done." Tilting her head to the side, Emmy smiled suddenly. "Oh well. If the General gets mad enough at Diebin, maybe he'll realize I'm not all that bad."

"Emmy! That's a horrible thing to say."

Emmy grimaced. "Hey. I didn't see her lifting one of those damn leather clad arms to help /me/ when I was slowly losing my mind due to General deprivation," Emmy huffed, reaching up to straighten her tiara. "Well, that gets Diebin out of the way, and Darry should be occupied between her new boyfriend and her benefactor boinking." Smiling, Emmy cocked her head to the side again. "I wonder if I can get Shana and Caeryn in trouble. That knocks out a fair percentage of the faculty . . ."

Brenda decided that it was time to join the boys under the table.

~*~ Who's more foolish . . . the fool, or the fool who follows him? ~*~

"Shhhhh!" Diebin hissed, tripping over her shoe for the third time as she attempted to break into her own office.

"But Diebin should use key," George repeated, none too steady on his own feet.

"No! We're breaking in!" Diebin replied, cursing as the paperclip she had shoved into the lock on her office snapped off.

"George help Diebin?" George offered, picking Diebin up with one hand and moving her aside.

"George no help---" Diebin's protests were cut off in a girlie squeal as George kicked down her office door. "Ooooh! What a strong jungle man you are!"

"George open door!" George cried happily, picking Diebin up and swinging her around again. Since the world was already spinning, this had the unfortunate affect of causing the drunken secretary to turn slightly green.

When her stiletto heeled boots were firmly on the ground again, Diebin staggered forwards. "Let's go dance in the General's office!" she cried, stumbling across the room. George shrugged, willing to follow the wobbly Ho.

Luckily for the General's door, it was unlocked. Stumbling forwards, Diebin looked around the room. "We need a fire," she pronounced, spinning around and promptly falling off of her boots. From her sprawl on the floor, she looked up at George. "George start fire."

"What George start fire with?" George asked, ambling across the room towards the prone Ho.

"Oh . . . some of that stuff," Diebin replied, gesturing vaguely to the paperwork she's thrown so liberally across the room earlier. George smiled his brightest jungle man smile and gathered up the new student applications, tossing them into the General's generous fire place.

When the fire was blazing merrily, Diebin crawled to her feet and careened towards the stereo, hitting the play button with one trembling finger. "Let's dance now, George."

George rushed across the room, picking Diebin up with one arm. "George dance with Diebin!"

~*~ . . . watch your step. This place can be a little rough. ~*~

"Are you getting this?"

Jael nodded, brushing a lock of hair out of her way as she hit the zoom button on her video camera. "Thanks for coming and waking me up. This is the kind of footage you only /dream/ of getting."

Julia and Sere exchanged a look. "Well," Julia said, a grin forming on her face, "I was trying to show Sere a little more of the campus. But . . . I heard the music and . . ."

Sere was staring through the General's office window again. "I have /never/ seen someone try to jitterbug to Nine Inch Nails before," Sere said, awe quite evident in her voice. "That's just . . ."

". . . not normal," Julia finished, her eyes going wide as George through Diebin into the air, catching her again before the wide-eyed Ho could crash into the General's desk.

Jael smiled slightly, panning the camera over slightly to catch George as he threw Diebin into another spin. The Jungle Man certainly had a way with dancing . . . even if he didn't seem to want to adapt to the music. Jael could tell by the look on Diebin's face that she wasn't quite used to this kind of dancing accompanying the steady beat of her favorite General Stripping Song . . .

But from the look on Diebin's face, she didn't much care.

"What is going on here?" a voice demanded suddenly. Jael jumped backwards, knocking into Sere who went flying into Julia. All three stared up from their tangled sprawl at Judy.

Judy, however, hardly noticed the three women sprawled at her feet. Her mouth had dropped open, her eyes wide. "You can swing dance to 'Closer'?" she demanded. "That's . . . that's not /possible/!"

"Someone tell him that," Sere muttered, detaching herself from the pile of limbs and climbing back to her knees. "I don't think he knows."

"What is she doing?" Judy asked, switching her gaze to the three women in front of her.

"It looks like she's . . ." Jael paused, tilting her head to the side. "Actually, I'm not sure. But she must be pretty drunk."

"This is turning into a bad habit," Judy said, frowning. "I mean . . . she won't ever drink my margaritas . . . keeps telling me she doesn't drink. And next thing I know she's the Campus Drunk!"

All four women jumped as Diebin came crashing into the window in front of them. George was pushing her into the glass, his mostly naked, very sweaty, and all together very very fine body stretched out along hers.

"Ummm . . . are you still filming?" Sere asked in a strangled voice as George shoved his face into Diebin's neck, sniffing her hair.

"Yes," Jael said in a strangled voice.

"Stop," Judy said, her voice coming out a little high. "If the General ever sees that . . ."

Julia just whistled. "Never knew George had such impressive biceps," she muttered, leaning to the side for a better look.

"How about we all just sneak away before Diebin figures out we're seeing this," Jael said, shoving her camera in her bag. "I know her temper . . . she won't be very happy."

All four were backing off when George looked up from his examination of Diebin's neck, waving enthusiastically with a wide grin.

"Oh shit," Judy swore.

Julia whipped out her camera, the only thought in her mind that if she could get a good enough blackmail shot, Diebin couldn't kill her.

Diebin turned around slowly, her eyes wide. Very calmly, she lifted one hand and made a very rude gesture to the four women standing outside the window.

Julia snapped a picture.

Still glaring, Diebin reached to the side and snapped the blinds down.

"I'm dead," Jael muttered, eyes wide. "If she remembers this, that is . . ."

"Oh, she can't kill us," Julia said happily. "George's loincloth was hidden behind the window sill. I have a picture right here of Diebin standing with what appears to be a naked George . . . and he's got one arm around her." Patting her camera, Julia grinned at the other three women. "Blackmail. It's a beautiful thing."

~*~ Your eyes can deceive you. Don't trust them. Stretch out with your feelings. ~*~

"George ask Diebin question."

"Of course," Diebin slurred, leaning father into the Jungle Man's chest. The world was very fuzzy, shaking in all kinds of strange ways . . . and the warm skin beneath her cheek seemed very very nice."

"Can George make Diebin go 'nnngh'?"

Diebin blinked slowly, her face still pressed into the nice warm chest. Nnnghhh. It was such a nice word, really. And she hadn't gone nnngh in a while.

"That would be nice," Diebin said slowly, her words somewhat slurred. "But . . ." Trailing off, Diebin lifted her head and stared into the eyes of the Jungle Man. "George, do you know what you're talking about?"

George smiled brightly. "George not as stupid as everyone think. George just talk like this because they make him do it in stupid movie." Leaning back, the over-muscled Jungle Man pressed Diebin into the desk. "George make Diebin go nnnngh now."

Diebin shook her head, convinced something was wrong. Staring up at the eyes above her, Diebin groped for some sense of what color they should be.

They looked nice enough as they were, to be perfectly honest.

"George make Diebin make all kinds of noises."

Skin.

Lots of it.

Diebin blinked up at George, trying to figure out what her eyes were telling her.

Something about George. And General.

George. General. George. General.

They sounded an awful lot alike, didn't they?

But her eyes were still trying to tell her something.

Feeling the nice, warm skin, Diebin told her eyes to shut the hell up.

~*~ There is a great disturbance in the Force. ~*~

Shana stared at the door.

Caeryn stared at the door.

"You're positive he's with Ban?" Shana asked finally.

"He was five minutes ago. And she was just starting with the 'nnnngggghs' if I remember correctly," Caeryn responded, glancing over her shoulder at the wreckage of Diebin's office door.

"You're sure that wasn't . . ." Glancing over her shoulder, Shana lowered her voice. ". . . a certain man who is on vacation."

Caeryn glared. "No. He's still on vacation," she replied tersely. "At least . . . he'd better be."

"Of course," Shana replied faintly.

"So he's with Ban," Caeryn said.

"Seems so," Shana replied.

They both stared at the General's office door, where a number of sounds were issuing forth that certainly did not belong where the General was not.

"She's in serious trouble," Caeryn said finally.

"Very serious," Shana replied.

"I don't think she's survive the Jealous Fit this would send him into," Caeryn said, glancing over her shoulder. "One of us should distract him."

Shana winced as a particuarly loud cry carried through the thick wooden door. "It doesn't sound like it's slowing down much. Maybe both of us should distract him."

"A few times," Caeryn agreed. "Let's at least give her the chance to finish up and get out of there."

"If she's sober enough to remember to get out," Shana said darkly.

The impassioned cry of, "Ohhhhhhh Geooooooooooorge," made both of the Ho's jump slightly.

"Let's keep him in a different wing," Caeryn said finally, backing towards the door.

"Good plan," Shana replied, wincing as a hollow thud was followed by giggles. "Maybe another building."

~*~ Even I get boarded sometimes. ~*~

Diebin woke up slowly, groaning as her head started to pound. She could feel legs flung across her body, the very uncomfortable floor pressing into her back . . .

. . . and a Look that was DEFINITELY not a good look boring into her skull.

Cracking open one eyelid, Diebin groaned. "Turn off the lights," she hissed, rolling over and groping for a pillow to pull over her eyes.

Her groping hand met skin. Lots of it. And hair. And a body that was certainly not the General's.

Shrieking slightly, Diebin scrambled to her feet, clapping a hand to her head as it started to throb. Staring down, she saw the prone figure of George, his body wrapped in a blue sheet.

And nothing else.

Staring down at herself, she found that she was wearing George's little fur number, which covered the important places, but definitely didn't classify as 'going out' clothes.

The eyes burning into her back were starting to get annoying, so she spun around on shaky legs, determined to yell at whoever had burst into her bedroom and turned on the lights.

A few moments later, Diebin stirred slightly, pulling herself out of the dead swoon that growling, angry, dressed only in very tight black pants General had thrown her into.

"Uhhnnn . . ." Struggling for coherent thought, Diebin pushed herself to her feet. "I can explain this."

"Oh can you?" the General growled, his face rigid.

"Eeep."

"In my office," the General hissed, stalking forward. Diebin tried--god knows she tried--but her eyes riveted to the swing of those hips as the black clad leather stretched across tight muscles. Swallowing convulsively, the hungover Ho squeezed her eyes shut.

"On my floor," he continued, his voice an angry rumble.

"Ummm . . ."

"With. Him."

Diebin cracked an eye, trying her hardest to look sweet, adorable, and totally innocent of having gotten it on with a Jungle Man on the General's Floor.

George chose that moment to speak up. "General mad at George?"

The General swiveled, taking in the far too naked man sprawled out across the floor of his office. "General mad at everyone," the General said slowly.

"George not supposed to make Diebin go nnnngh?"

Diebin winced as the General growled again, low in his chest.

"George sorry."

"That's nice," the General said finally, crossing his arms over his chest. "Diebin?"

"Y-y-yes?"

"You're temporarily relieved of your position, as well as all of your appointments."

Diebin's jaw dropped. "But--but--"

The General spun, pinning the Ho with a death glare. "All of them."

Endless days of appointment-less misery loomed before Diebin. Standing up straighter, she crossed her arms across her chest, doing her best to look imposing draped in George's fur clothing. "I thought we'd agreed that there would be no more deprivation after Emmy's little episode," Diebin snapped.

The General raised an eyebrow, his lips curling down. "I don't think deprivation is a problem for you," he snarled, casting one look at George.

"I was drunk," Diebin wailed. "It wasn't my fault! It happens to everyone!"

The General just shook his head, spinning on his heel and stalking from the room.

No . . . not stalking. Prowling. He knew damn well Diebin would have to watch him leave, shaking those hips that she wouldn't get to play with for a long time.

Sadistic man. Too bad Diebin's Overwhelming Ho Pride wouldn't let her chase after him and kiss his feet until he forgave her.

"Fine," Diebin said finally, plopping back down. "It's just you and me now, George. We'd better go into hiding."

"General mad at George?" George asked, his brow furrowed.

"General want to kill George," Diebin corrected. "General want to kill Diebin too."

"George want to hide," George said quickly.

"Diebin wants to hide too," Diebin replied. "And I know just the place."

~*~ I know there is good in you. The emperor hasn't driven it from you fully. ~*~

Darry wasn't answering her door.

For some reason, this seemed like the ultimate insult to General Obi-Wan Kenobi. It certainly hadn't been a good month for him. First the episode with Emmy. Dande's rejection of him, the arrival of George, Emmy's flirtation with the Wanker boys. Shana and Ban had been acting distinctly odd for a while there . . . until Shana had gotten that new secretary.

And now his Secretary . . . his most devoted Ho . . . was getting it on with a loin-cloth clad Neanderthal who hadn't mastered the basics of prepositions yet.

And Darry still wasn't answering her door.

Deciding that the shattering of his ego was a medical emergency, the General used the Force to unlock Darry's door, stumbling through it into the darkened room.

Groping for the light switch, the General stumbled over something and landed with a crash on the bed, his arm knocking the answering machine off of the bedside table.

"Message One, left yesterday at twelve fourteen, p.m." Scrambling to his knees, Obi-Wan tried to find the answering machine, knowing that it wasn't his business to be listening to Darry's messages.

"Hi there. Emmy told me all about everything, and I'm glad you want to be my girlfriend as much as I want to be your boyfriend. Call me back, okay?"

The General grabbed the small box, staring at it with wide eyes. There were still three messages left.

"Message Two, left yesterday at three fifteen, p.m."

The General held his breath.

"Hey, I forgot. Do Angels like fast food? Because I know you're an Angel, but I don't know what Angels eat. Love, your boyfriend."

The General blinked.

"Message Three, left yesterday at five twenty-seven, p.m."

The General lifted his hand and started to bite at a fingernail.

"Hello, my dear. I am really sorry about the car. Are you screening? If you are, I command you to pick up the phone. I told you that I'd make it up to you. Pick up the phone please, my dear. I promise you a night like--" there was a muffled click as the phone was apparently picked up.

"Message Four, left today at nine thirty-five, a.m."

The General placed the answering machine carefully back on the bedside table, not sure what to do.

"Hi! It's me again. I asked my mom what Angels eat. She says they like beef jerky. I'm gonna race in the Mardi Gras float race. I'm the only Wanker Student who can do it. Do you wanna come watch me? Since you're my girlfriend and all, you can sit with my mom. She says it's good for me to have a girl friend, but I have to be careful since I can't stay out past seven o'clock. Oh, and I made you something. It's a droid--it speaks over seven forms of--" Blessedly, the message cut off in a loud beep.

The General sat staring at the answering machine for a long time before he picked up the phone and carefully dialed information.

"Hello," he said in a slightly strangled voice. "I need the number for a good therapist."

~*~ You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. ~*~

"George no like Wanker College," George said mournfully, looking out the small window of Josh's room.

"Does he always talk like that?" Josh demanded. "Emmy didn't say anything about a grammatically challenged Neanderthal."

"You wanna be in with the Supah Diva?" Diebin demanded, crossing her arms over her chest and leveling her best glare at Josh.

The Wanker Student swallowed. "Ummm . . . of course."

"Then keep your mouth shut. And if you see a man with funny tattoos in a orange dress, or a man with a braid glued to the side of his head, make sure they don't find out that I'm here."

Backing away slowly, Josh wondered for the fifth time if getting a date with Emmy was really worth this.

~*~ Why doesn't anyone listen to me? ~*~

"What did you say your name was?"

Obi-Wan blinked. "Umm . . I didn't."

Dr. Lora sighed, trying not to seem annoyed. "Well, how about we start there. What is your name?"

The General knew he couldn't give his real name--he was listed in every shrink ward in the state as dangerously unstable. Casting his eyes around the room, his gaze fell on the therapist's rather dog-oriented movie collection. Old Yeller . . . Lassie . . . the Adventures of--

"Benji."

Dr. Lora blinked. "Excuse me?"

"My name. Benji."

"Benji," she repeated, eyes a little wide. "That's your name?"

Obi-Wan realized that it wasn't exactly a plausible name. "No," he said quickly.

"No," Dr. Lora repeated slowly.

"Ben." The General nodded, smiling. "That's my name."

"I see. Is there a reason you said Benji before?"

Reason. Damn . . . these therapists always wanted reasons for everything. Casting about, Obi-Wan grasped for an excuse. "Because it is my name. Ben G. G is my last initial."

"Oh. I see." Dr. Lora scribbled that down. "Did you have a last name, Ben G.?"

Obi-Wan said the first thing that came to mind. "Godvia."

"Godvia?" Dr. Lora repeated.

"Yes. My name is Ben Godvia."

Sighing, Dr. Lora settled in for a long hour.

~*~ I got my own problems. ~*~

"Oh no." Brenda shook her head firmly, backing towards the wall. "Not for /anything/ am I doing that again."

"You're my apprentice now," Emmy huffed, straightening her tiara. "Besides, Diebin's not around to breath down your neck and threaten you with vicious glares, so you should be fine."

Brenda shook her head again, backing away from Diebin's desk. "You try messing with that computer. You have to have sixteen passwords just to see what time it is. I'm not ready for this level of commitment to the General yet!"

"Fine!" Emmy exclaimed throwing her arms up into the air. "Who is going to schedule appointments now? Do you expect us /all/ to go without the General just because Diebin couldn't keep the Jungle Man in his damn loincloth?"

Before Brenda could respond, the phone rang. Stalking across the room, Emmy jerked the receiver up. "You want to say something?" she snapped into the phone. There was a brief pause, before Emmy groaned. "Where is she now? Okay . . . where's he?" Another pause. "The /water tower/?" Emmy exclaimed suddenly. "Oh, fine. Someone will be there to pick them up soon." Slamming the receiver back down, Emmy spun to where Vocab man and Cal were busy trying to refasten the door. "One of you go get in the car and pick up George and Diebin. George climbed the water tower and dropped one of their students off it."

"He did what?" Cal exclaimed.

"Diebin picked a fight with some Gungun. George got all protective and dropped him off the water tower. President Valorum didn't seem to upset . . . but I guess it would be bad PR for them to let George and Diebin stay. So one of you pick them up. Now!"

Cal looked at Vocabulary Man. "Who's going?" he asked finally.

"Grrr."

"Well, I know that, but really! Do you think it's relevant?"

"Grrr."

"No way! You're kidding!"

"Grrr!"

"She did? When did she do that? Oh, never mind. Fine . . . I'll go pick them up."

"Grrr."

"Yeah, fine. I'll do it when I get back." Casting a look that was nothing like the Look at Emmy, Cal turned and tried to prowl out of the room.

Emmy managed to hold back laughter until he was out of the door.

~*~ Why you stuck up . . . half-witted . . . scruffy-looking nerf-herder! ~*~

"So you have girl problems," Dr. Lora said, glad to finally be back on somewhat firm ground with this very unbalanced man. Girl Problems were something she was familiar with. He couldn't have some kind of problem she hadn't seen before, after all.

"Yes," the General responded, shifting in his seat.

"Well why don't you tell me what they are," Dr. Lora said in her nice, soothing therapist voice.

"They're being unfaithful all of the sudden," Obi-Wan exploded.

"They?" Dr. Lora questioned.

"Yes, they. Well . . . not all of them. There are quite a few who are still very faithful. But the one's who have been with me the longest . . . they're starting to stray. And I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

"Forgive me if I'm prying," Dr. Lora said slowly. "But when you say 'they' . . . how many women are you referring to? Two? Three?"

"Oh, no," the General said quickly. "I have about fifty or sixty h--err, girls. And most of them are completely faithful--at least, I think they are. But I think some of them are straying. Well, I /know/ some of them are. I found one of them with another man!"

"Let's go back to that number," Dr. Lora said, her voice a little tight. "Did you say--fifty or sixty?"

"About that," Obi-Wan confirmed. "There's always new studen--I mean, new girls coming, so the count is usually pretty rough."

"And you . . . you are involved with all of them?"

"Oh yes. Almost daily."

Dr. Lora nodded, knowing that sudden movements could startle him. "So you are here because--"

"My secretary is having an affair," Obi-Wan said glumly. "With her secretary."

"Oh," Dr. Lora said helplessly.

Obi-Wan shifted in his chair. "And I think my Nurse is having one too . . . with some little boy."

"Your--nurse?" Flipping through some papers, Dr. Lora shook her head. "I don't see any record of . . .well, of any illness that would require you having your own Nurse."

"Oh, she's not my Nurse. She's everyone's Nurse," Obi-Wan said quickly. "But I think she's being unfaithful to me."

Dr. Lora set her papers down carefully. "Let me get this straight," she said slowly. "I want to make sure I understand. You are involved with sixty women."

"Around sixty," Obi-Wan confirmed.

"And you are worried because some of them might be involved with other people?" she continued, her voice very even.

"Yes. I think they are being unfaithful."

"And it comes as a surprise to you that you might not be able to keep sixty women satisfied all by yourself."

The General stared at the doctor, his eyes wide. Was she implying . . .

"I have /no/ problems with stamina," Obi-Wan huffed.

"Of course not," Dr. Lora said weakly. She stood slowly, inching towards the door. "If you'll excuse me . . ."

~*~ You certainly have a way with people. ~*~

"My love adored this song," Dande said wistfully, swaying slightly to the hypnotic strains of the Titanic soundtrack. "We would listen to it endlessly as we made love under the trees . . ."

Diebin focused on trying not to let her eyes roll back into her head. Dande had been talking about her love and Master for the past three hours, and if there was ever a topic to inspire crabbiness in the heart of the Secretary, it was Qui-Gon.

Especially when accompanied by the Titanic soundtrack.

On repeat.

"George like this song," George added helpfully, looking up from where Dande had given him Qui-Gon's old utility belt to play with, hoping that the Jungle Man would be able to remind her for a few fleeting moments of her lost love.

Dande sighed, placing a hand on her perfectly flat abdomen. "Have I ever told you how I liked to walk in the woods with my love, when the moon was full and the rain fell softly about us."

Pride was great and all, but Diebin was seriously considering crawling to the General on her hands and knees with an apology right now. If only so she stop hiding up in the tower with the Wench.

At least she wasn't drunk. There was no chance that Dande was going to convince her to duct tape her chest.

~*~ Your overconfidence is your weakness. ~*~

"Hello, Ho State Univeristy. President's Office." Aya leaned back in Diebin's chair, propping her boots up on the desk. "No, I'm sorry, there is no one by the name of Ben Godiva employed here. No, I don't /care/ if he gave you this number to call . . . I've never heard of him!" Slamming the phone down, Aya went back to playing with Diebin's computer, trying to rearrange all of the appointments to better suit her schedule.

The passwords had been a little tricky at first, but Aya /had/ worked with Diebin a long time ago in a Rent-a-Jedi complex far far away . . . and the fact that Diebin used the same passwords for everything made it relatively easy for the Sith Intern turned University President to break in and change things around.

Humming happily, Aya deleted all of Darry's appointments. See if the Nurse ever sent a bounty hunter after /her/ again.

~*~ I'm looking for a great warrior. ~*~

"What do you mean, he's missing," Emmy snapped, her eyes going wide.

"I mean exactly that," Caeryn grated out. "He. Is. Missing."

"Missing?" Emmy repeated, her face going pale.

"Missing." Caeryn confirmed.

"The General /can't/ go missing!" Emmy exclaimed. "We have to find him! Can you imagine what this campus is going to look like if we /all/ go into General withdrawal?"

"Remember last time?" Shana said suddenly from the corner. "When he was locked up in the loony bin?"

All three Ho's exchanged nervous glances before diving for the Yellow Pages.

~*~ Impossible man. ~*~

"Keep calling all the Hospitals around here," Dr. Lora instructed her secretary. "Ask them if a patient by the name of Ben Godiva escaped or was released recently. He'll be under sedation in the padded room until we figure out where he has to go."

~*~