no snubbin' here, just a plot bunny gone insane and granted existence by the
Supah Diva. (anyone else smell a plot point?)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tucked up in her vacation bed, a blanket at her shoulders curled around a pillow and listening to Sting on the headphones of her CD player, Shana sighed and hit repeat on track 2, singing along quietly.

This was the third thing she had tried to distract herself from the General, the first two involving her mimicry of Emmy's primal scream therapy, but after ten minutes her voice had cracked and she started on a sneezing fit due to inhaling the local pollen too hard. The second attempt, a rather amusing attempt at meditation that resulted in a leg cramp the magnitude of a hammer to the funny bone had led to where she was now.

And, as much as she loved the combination of the dumbecks and the smooth voice, it wasn't enough to keep her from thinking about him.

Damn him for being himself. Between the lack of voice and physical presence, the Ho knew that at first sight of those eyes whatever wisps of anger she had left would fade away, and she would go back to her office, her desk, her paperwork (which she hated to admit that she liked doing), her computer, her weapons, her own bed, her garden... her car...

Sitting upright, she yanked the headphones off. Her wrecked car... oooh, that was enough right there to get her pissed again.

Throwing the covers off, hitting stop on the CD and placing it back in the case, briefly checking the rest of the collection she had brought to better match her soured mood, she shook her head and decided to do something productive.

She would find a computer and pick up her e-mail.

Throwing on a skirt and draping the soft black shawl she had found in a local Alderaani shoppe, Shana walked out into the hall, closed the door behind her and set on her search for the elusive and non-antiquated system.

* * *

*Connecting to server... downloading 102 of 2895 messages...*

"Holy shit, this is what I get for not setting to no-mail. And forgetting to tell people that I was escaping the tyrannical General and his Master streak."

Watching with morbid glee as the messages filtered through and landed in their various folders, the Director of Student Affairs paused. In the folder labeled "Crow," one that was set up so she could catch her odd secretary's reports of goings on, the e-mail count was quickly climbing into the hundreds.

"If these are the callbacks to the entire collection of Kevin Bacon movies, I'm going to rip that web right off your head when I get home..."

*Downloading 745 of 2895 messages...*

"And oh look, there's the fic... 300? They would decide to finish that 10 part mini-series while I'm gone. Oh, wait, they have a messenger program."

And as soon as she logged on, she was immediately tackled by a rather frazzled Bot.

StudBot: Heeeeeellp me!

Shana sighed and decided to respond, figuring it was better to hear it now since it was easier to fake a computer crash rather than hide under her desk.

PaprwrkQn: whassup? StudBot: First it was the General, and now that Jael has gone nuts!

Jael? What was wrong with Jael?

PaprwrkQn: what's wrong with Jael? StudBot: She--she-- she crashed this computer! The General looks like clown! PaprwrkQn: that's a relative term coming from you. Define clown. Studbot: chartreuse polyester pants, shiny pink, red plaid shirts

Shana paused and chewed on her lip. Since when did "Boogie Nights" come to HSU?

Studbot: And the chocolate is gone.

A silence fell over the Ho. Had Jael lost it that bad? Didn't she know that they felt bad about leaving her behind and they were incredibly jealous that she got time with the General while they were away? Yeah, sure they were mad, he had screwed up good, but wow, the Geek Art Goddess had gone over the edge.

Like more than Diebin going over the edge.

PaprwrkQn: Keep talking... what else is going on?

*Downloading 1654 of 2895 messages...*

StudBot: She turned the data-entry team into a graphic arts program, Martha is going ballistic in the dorms, and the pictures and she said if we didn't behave Space Dog would bite Servo's head off!

Shana blinked. This was... this was...

PaprwrkQn: hold on, here's some of your emails... geez, Crow, ease off the caps lock.

StudBot: Spam! Lima Beans! Hamburger Helper! Peas! And she threatened-- PaprwrkQn: what? Gardenburgers? Studbot: hahah. Kimchi and Velvetta!

Shana shuddered. This was too much. Scanning through the lines of largely repetitive e-mails form the gold Bot, shaking her head over the snide commentary regarding Ewoks, Cal and the evil Sith Bitch Martha, the General and his stumbling masculinity and the current auction bids...

PaprwrkQn: current. auction. bids. StudBot: well, you saw the video feed... isn't that a money maker? PaprwrkQn: CURRENT. AUCTION. BIDS.

Back at the university, Crow cringed. Maybe he should have just let the e-mail do the talking about that.

PaprwrkQn: CROW!

Spotting the evil Martha walk by the office, the Bot ducked under the desk, waited a few minutes and then resumed typing.

StudBot: Come home, please. You have to protect us, she's going insane. PaprwrkQn: Who? Martha? She's always evil. StudBot: No, Jael.

This seemed a little suspicious, but at the rate that they were breaking people out of looney bins and nunneries, anything was possible.

PaprwrkQn: so, what you're telling me is that Jael went nuts, redecorated the place, snubbed us, mangled the database...again, and the General is dressed like a pyromaniac's wet dream. StudBot: In so many words, yes. Come home. PaprwrkQn: so she really got rid of the chocolate? StudBot: and the whipped cream, and the Nutella...

Shana's mouth hung open with shock. Oh, that was it. A Ho without desire for Nutella was like a Ho... well, like a Ho that had gone completely off her rocker and taken the goodies with her.

This had to be stopped. Now.

PaprwrkQn: I'll be back ASAP.

And with that she signed off, downloading her mail to a disk and heading for her bedroom with purpose.

Pausing to look at Tom, Crow gulped. "We just had one of two things happen: we just gained ourselves our hero, or we'll need one more straight jacket around here."

Tom shook his clear plastic head. "If she goes off caffeine, we're scrap metal. Does that basement keep a stock of the good stuff?"

The gold head bobbed animatedly. "Fully stocked fridge. Sugar, caffeine, chocolate, videos, music, aspirin."

"All a Ho really needs."

"Except for the shaggin' retro-General."

Both Bots chuckled.

* * *

"One ticket, not two, not fourteen, not three hundred, one."

The man sitting across from her arched an eyebrow. "This isn't as easy as it looks, I just can't take off when someone says to."

Shana sighed and took a large swig of her double shot white mocha espresso. Caffeine highs required a big start. "I can pay you."

"This is highly irregular."

"I have a university to take care of! Are you sure?"

The pilot chewed on his lip. The elegantly dressed woman before him didn't strike him as someone on the run, nor a criminal, and was pretty to boot. "You're trying to get back to a man."

Shana paused. "Not immediately."

Knowing that his presence at this table and being connived into was something that would eternally destroy his reputation as an Antilles, the pilot ran a hand through his hair, downed his glass and swore briefly. "You have a deal, lady."

Kicking the broad shouldered man in the shin with her spiked heels, Shana leaned across the table. "I'm not a lady, I'm a Ho."

The response was a nervous one. "Yes, okay. You packed?"

"Yep."

"No husband, boyfriend, fiancé, or fling on the side to kiss goodbye?"

Shana growled. "I told you, 'not immediately,' and that does not give you leave to touch me. I bite. And scratch."

He winced. "Oh."

* * *

"She was supposed to be here a few minutes ago. What, is she crawling down the driveway?"

"Shush, Crow, we heard the taxi pull up and that muffled call from the landing pad seems to confirm that she survived the trip back."

The gold Bot waved his arms around. "She's gonna freak."

Tom Servo tried to nod in agreement. "Yeah, but it's not actually our fault."

At which point the travel haggled Ho stalked towards the Bots. "Alright, I'm here, gimme a computer, a pen, paper, sugar, some caffeine-- intravenous preferably, a really loud stereo with some kick ass beats and your undivided attention."

The Bots exchanged glances. "Uh, how was the trip?"

Shana pointed at the handicapped ramp on the side of the building. "Inside, now."

Tom shuffled forward, dodging the point of a spiked heel. "Looks like she hit Diebin and the General's office in this building..."

Crow glared at the other Bot. "The dorms! A la circus, clowns especially."

The only humanoid in the curious party winced. "And the data-entry clerks?"

"Making some rather nice concept posters for Episode 2."

"Servo!"

"It's true. You should see the Anakin renditions."

Sliding her leather bag further up her shoulder, Shana grabbed the door, flung it open and stormed inside, nearly sending both Bots flying with the swing of solid wood. "Fine. Fire them ALL, get your asses to the circuit breaker for the admin office wing and reset it, grab two laptops, get my computer running, and if that damn network is down, I use you, Crow, for a pasta strainer, and you, Tom, for a candy dispenser. Got it? I'll be down in the basement knocking back a 2 litre of Mountain Dew."

They waited a few moments, letting her stalk ahead a few steps. "Tom?"

"Yes, Crow?"

"I know Mike used us as a bid for that tape, but do you think he would let us come back?"

Tom paused. "Yeah, maybe, but Pearl's found out by now about that same bid, so it's probably safer here."

And then Shana shrieked, pointing into Diebin's office. "Chartreuse?!"

Crow, had he moveable shoulders, would have shrugged. "I told you about that in the e-mail."

The Ho turned and growled.

"Hey Servo, let's go put the system in order."

Both Bots bustled off, leaving the sole Grrl in the hall. Pausing, wondering just how much it would take to get everything back to... non-chartreuse, she shook her head, decided not to go exploring. And as for the General... well, in these halls she didn't seem to miss him as much.

Besides, if there was one turnoff for a General's Grrl that cavorted about typically in Valentino, it was pink and red plaid shirts.

With a sigh and the dire hope that her rather antiquarian and lavish office was untouched, Shana began to walk again, opening her door to find an office untouched by the evil Martha; however, it had been Bot-ified. Stacks of videogames lay on her desk, the trap door to the basement propped open and a bunch of empty popcorn bags and candy wrappers strewn over non-replica furniture.

"Crow!! Tom!!"

Two heads, one gold, the other red and clear plastic popped up from below the desk.

"Few more things on top of all of that. Clean this fracking office and bring to me Evil Bitch Sith Martha!!!"