*******

"It has to be a little lower... No. See? It has to clear the door frame so that, when the door opens..." Kendra pulled open the door to demonstrate the finer workings of the classic 'water bucket over the door' booby-trap, "...it catches the bucket and tips it ov-- And, I can't believe I'm explaining this! No, forget it, this is a bad idea." She shut the door firmly, and looked up at Tara with a frown. "After the last couple of days? We can't afford this kind of stunt. We're in deep enough trouble as it is, you know."

"Okay, for the *last* time! You're *not* in trouble!" Tara exclaimed from her perch on the ladder. She lowered the full, slopping wet bucket into the position Kendra had indicated, then tightened the securing rope. "We've gone over that scene a dozen times. He wasn't angry *at* you, he was angry *near* you. *Big* difference, okay? Unlike, say, the Dean being angry *with* me."

Kendra smiled grimly. "Well, you did want her to notice you."

Tara sighed. "Yea, well, my foolish notions aside, I'll take a grumpy General over a grumpy Diva any day."

"She really hasn't been that grumpy. Actually? I think she's completely forgotten about you," Kendra mused. "Seems like Jerome is really good for her."

Tara grimaced, but said nothing as she patted the bucket then clambered down, and peered out the window, giving someone a thumbs-up signal. Turning back to grab the ladder, she gestured down the quiet hallway. "Let's get this outta the way, and hide. Cal will let us know when he's coming."

"I just don't feel right about dousing the General as he walks through the door-- Wait? What am I saying?" Kendra felt her face for a temperature. "This has been the worst week for me. Angering the General, resurrecting a hoard of Gauls, pretending to be the RB's..." she gagged "sis--" She squeaked as Tara yanked her by the hand, and the two Ho's scurried around a corner. "Why are we running?

"We've got to hide this ladder, and then get into place," Tara replied.

"Okay," Kendra sighed, as she watched the freshman shove the ladder into a storage closet. "Explain again how this is going to make things better with the General."

"Uh--?" Tara gave Kendra a blank look.

Kendra groaned. "Why are we doing this?"

"The General will get really, really wet."

"Oh, yeah..." Kendra shook her head to clear it of the lovely images. "But if he's ang--"

"No!" Tara hissed, dragging Kendra to their hiding spot, around the corner of an intersection in the main hall. "Stop it! Again, he's not angry *at* you, he's frustrated by his most recent disagreement with the Dean, and you were in the room when he unrepressed. Didn't he come to the bar to get you?"

Kendra nodded, biting her lip, "But he got called away before he could say anything. He seemed kinda... gentle," she finished wistfully.

"Exactly," Tara nodded. "See? He wants to apologize."

"Okay, then why should I endanger that for this..." she gestured vaguely back the way they'd come.

"'Cause the General will get really, really wet," Tara offered with a grin, which faded under Kendra's scowl. "Okay, look at it this way, he comes through the door, gets really, really wet, we all, uhm, *laugh* about it -- just like we planned up at the lodge," she added defensively. "Then I'll leave, and you can 'help' him dry off. That way you both have a chance to, sorta, you know, apologize."

Kendra stared at the freshman thoughtfully, the silence drawing out before she finally spoke. "That's the weakest reasoning I've ever heard."

"The General will get really, really wet."

"Yes, I heard you the first time, and as wonderful as that soun--"

Both grrls jumped as the sound of shattering glass, a thump and a cry were heard from behind a closed door across the hall. The door opened and a bloodied and bruised Cal staggered into the hallway. Spotting the two Ho's peering around their corner, he whispered frantically, "He's coming!"

"What the hell did you just do," Tara whispered, her eyes wide.

"You said to come through the window in the art room," he whimpered, scuttling across the hall to stand next to the Ho's.

"The *OPEN* window!" she snapped. "Get back in ther-- Nevermind," she growled, shoving him against he wall, out of sight of the main hall.

The trio waited, holding their breath.

Then they breathed and waited some more.

"I thought you said he was coming, Cal," Kendra whispered.

"He was," Cal insisted.

"Shhh!" Tara hissed. "I hear footsteps... Oooh! He's at the door!"

"This is sooo not a good idea," Kendra groaned.

"Whatevah you three are up to, I am absolutely certain that it is no good," said a quietly amused voice from behind them.

"We booby-trapped the door and now we're waiting for the Gen--" Kendra broke off with a gasp, spinning around to face *that* voice. "Oh!" she breathed, clapping her hands to her mouth, a look of abject horror crossing her face.

Tara jumped, turning her head to give the General an uncomprehending look, before peaking back down the hall toward the opening door. "But... Then who--?"

The loud sound of splashing water was quickly drowned out by the Dean's shrieks of rage.

*******

"Oooohhhhh," Tara whimpered, staggering back, her face turning a distinct shade of green, but she caught the General as he rushed forward to investigate the gutteral howls. "She'll kill the first person she sees," she croaked.

With very little hesitation, she shoved Cal out into the open, then quickly herded the General and Kendra back towards the side entry that Kenobi had used. "Run, run, run," she chanted, as they broke out into the light and raced for the maze.

Collapsing against a shrub, Kendra caught her breath before turning to Tara. "I *told* you that was NOT a good idea!"

"That wasn't supposed to happen!" Tara cried. "It was an accident."

"You booby-trapped the doorway with a bucket of watah?" the General asked.

"Yes... But it was an accident," Tara muttered.

"Ah." He smiled and nodded in understanding. "You *accidentally* booby-trapped the doorway?"

"The Dean!" she snapped. "The Dean was an accident. *You* were the intended victim."

"Wondahful," he replied bemusedly.

"It was an accident," Tara murmured again, the shock beginning to take its toll on her thought processes.

"A bucket of water above the door?" Kenobi asked Kendra, who nodded shamefacedly.

"An accident..." Tara repeated.

"Set to tip over and soak the person walking through the door?" he continued. Kendra shuffled her feet.

"Accident..."

He turned back towards the freshman. "Then you left Cal to face the Dean's wraith. Was that an accident too?"

"Hey!" She started, focusing on his face, struggling to keep the guilt from her tone. "Don't try none of them Jedi logic tricks on me, boyo. It was an accident!"

He cocked a brow in response, and silently watched as the grrls shoulders slumped.

"Okay, it was a crummy thing to do, but..." She gestured wildly. "Cal's *always* in trouble, so she won't do anywhere near the amount of damage to him that she'd do to me! I mean," she moaned, "the Dean's gonna kill me... I'm toast! No!" she continued dramatically. "Toast is too good. Toast would be if she felt lenient! I'm less than toast; I'm the brackish scum that coats the sides of the tigers' water trough! I'm the bits and pieces of foamy grey matter that floats on the--"

"All right! Enough!" The General held up his hand, a look of distaste marring his features. "While I agree that the Dean's tempah can be quite... frightening to behold, I am sure that if you were to apol--" He stopped, thought, then shook his head in resignation. "No. You are quite right. Your life is worth less than a handful of charred Banta foddah."

Tara and Kendra stared at him, aghast, until he burst out laughing. "I'm sorry," he said, chuckling. "No, really," he continued, growing serious. "It was unwise to attempt this stunt in such a public location, but I'm more concerned about your decision to sacrifice an innocent in your escape."

She dropped her eyes, and concentrated on digging her toes into the graveled path. "It was an ac-- I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one to apologize to," he replied quietly. "You...*both of you," he said, turning to include Kendra, "must know that I will gladly partake in any fantasy that you have." Kendra's eyes widened as she lost herself in those smiling blue-green pools, blinking dazedly as he released her to look at Tara. "While I appreciate the humour in what you were attempting to do, I think it best that we agree to confine these games to somewhere less public, hmm?"

Tara nodded quietly, blushing under his scrutiny. He turned back to Kendra, who nodded in eager agreement then squirmed as his gaze upon her intensified.

"Tara?" he murmured. "Would you please excuse Kendra and me?"

"Hmm?" she responded absently. "Oh! Yes, of course." Flashing a grin at Kendra, she fled toward the dorm.

Kendra fidgeted as they watched Tara hurry away. Seeking to break the silence, she said, "I'm sorry--"

"I'm sorry--" he started.

They laughed, both a little self-conscious. He grew serious again, stepping closer, reaching out to brush his fingers across her face. "You did not deserve to bear the brunt of my anger, Kendra. I am most deeply sorry for my loss of control."

"I shouldn't have accused you of being an alpha," she said.

He shrugged, and offered a little smile. "Maybe I was, a little," he admitted. "It's-- I've been tense and out of sorts lately."

"Well, so much has been going on around here lately," she laughed. "First the fire, then the battle--" her mouth snapped shut as she realized too late what she'd said.

"Well," he chuckled, misunderstanding her look. "I know that the Dean and I...disagreed rather strongly, but I wouldn't call it a battle."

"Uhm, no, you're right," Kendra agreed weakly, thanking all her stars that he was so easily blinded.

"But," he said firmly, "that is neithah here nor there. What I'd like to do, what I wanted to do when I found you in the bar, is to steal you away and apologize propahly."

"Oh?" Kendra whispered, her mouth going dry. He watched avidly as her tongue peeked out to wet her lips.

He grinned slowly, his fingers curling gently around her arms, pulling her closer. "I believe we started something the othah day?

"Oh?" Kendra smiled slowly.

"I thought that, maybe, you might want to continue where we left off?" he asked, the seriousness of his tone countered by the twinkle of teasing in his eyes.

"Maybe," she drawled. "What're you suggesting, General?"

He leaned forward, brushing his lips against the corner of her mouth, up along her cheek, until he could whisper in her ear, "You. Me. Testing out the new Hahley on a ride up to the Estros Hot Springs for a moonlight swim?"

Kendra grinned, "Yeah... That'll do..." Closing her teeth on his ear lobe, she tugged, then purred into his ear, "For a start."

******

"I want the perpetrators of this crime found and STRUNG UP IMMEDIATELY," Emmy shouted.

"Oy!" griped the Nurse.

"Language!" growled the Librarian.

Flashing a rude gesture, the Dean paced the length of the boardroom where some of the senior staff had been hastily assembled, Lasher tripping over himself to do the puppy dance in her wake

"Let's calm down, and review the situation, shall we?" Laure asked in soothing tones. Her nose pinched in distaste as the Dean's little Lab shook a bit of over-excited puppy slobber into the air. "Cal was found unconscious at the scene--"

"Cal pissed himself in fear and passed out," Emmy growled. "That boy doesn't have the brains to tie his own shoe laces. There is no way he devised this stunt. Whoever did this had the knowledge and wherewithal to engineer the trap. Furthermore," her eyes narrowed, "this person, or persons, knew my schedule."

Dorotea blinked, then looked around at her colleagues. "Okay, for starters? I didn't do it; I was doing Giles. Secondly?" She looked at Emmy. "Why do you assume you were the target?"

The Diva scowled. "Whatever do you mean? Of course I was the target! Look at me!" she yelped, gesturing to her ruined hair and soggy Chanel.

Dande winced in sympathy, and patted a charmingly errant ringlet back into place. "I think...what dear Dorotea is...suggesting," she whisped, "is that...due to the nature of this...unfortunate incident...you might have...accidentally wandered into...someone's idea of...fun."

Emmy glared at the Wench. "Fun?!"

The Nurse glanced up from checking her watch, her foot tapping impatiently, and said, "You got *wet,* Emmy. C'mon, figure it out!"

The Diva blinked, comprehension finally dawning through her fury, only to be replaced by renewed anger. "Those two?!" she snapped. "Oh, that's it... That is absolutely it! I want them committed to a treatment center tonight!"

"Emmy... Please. Let's calm down and try not to overreact" Laure pleaded, flinching as Lasher began to bark joyfully at his mistress' feet.

"Right. That's taken care of," the Nurse stated, leaping to her feet. "I've got to get back to the clinic."

"Nurse Darry, we've all got people to do, and places to be," Laure called out dryly. "But could we keep your medical expertise in the room a little longer?"

"Nope," said the Nurse from the doorway. "You've had seven minutes and..." she checked her watch "twenty three seconds. I've got a... *patient,* you know."

"You're running off to check on Cal," Dorotea drawled. "How wonderfully nursey of you."

There was no reply but the Nurse's running feet.

"Goodness gracious! Talk about a...need for...addiction treatment," Dande exclaimed delicately.

"Yeah, well," Dorotea said standing. "This isn't really my expertise, you know. I've got...books to do...something with. You guys," she waved her fingers in the direction of the Mediator and the Counselor, "are the ones to handle this mess. Toodles!"

"Hey!" Emmy groused as the Librarian disappeared. "Thanks for the concern, guys!" She threw herself into a chair with a huff. "And, of course, that *man* is nowhere to be found."

"I heard him...leave on that...motorbike," Dande prettily offered.

The Dean growled. "I bought him that bike, damn it."

"Now, now," Laure soothed. "Let's keep this meeting on topic, sha--" She jumped with a small shriek as a cold wet nose pressed against her calf. "Oh, g-- Shoo!" She sneezed. "Emmy! Get it--" She sneezed again.

"C'mere, baby...." Emmy cooed. "Come to Mommy. Ooooh, good boy! Look," she grinned proudly. "He knows his name."

Lasher piddled his delight at being the center of so much attention. Though not overly bright, he did put two and two together quickly. Press your nose against this human's leg... Like so! She screams and makes funny noises, then Mommy gives you pats.

"Emmy!" Laure wailed in desperation.

Lasher, now safely ensconced in the lap of his mistress, panted ecstatically.

"Okay," said the Mediator, dabbing at her nose with a lace hanky. "I propose in-house counseling for both Kendra and Tara, encouraging them to keep their water sport--" She stopped to muffle a grin while Emmy choked back a laugh, and Dande looked confused. "To, uhm, direct their, uhm, aquaholism into safer and more productive outlets." Her tone became increasingly professional. "I believe Dande is best suited for the counsel--"

"No!" the Dean said emphatically. "Nah-uh. Absolutely not."

"What?" Laure asked in surprise. "Why?"

"You!" she snapped, pointing at Dande. "You will not be alone with that...that-- What's the freshman's name," she asked Laure impatiently.

"Tara?"

"Tara!" Emmy glared at the Wench. "That freshman has some very odd notions and I blame you entirely."

The Wench fluttered. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You? The Hippie? The quaint little cottage?" The Dean's eyes narrowed as she ticked her reasons off on her fingers, one by one. "Should never have been allowed to happen here. Fills the more susceptible grrls' heads with silly notions of monogamy and accepting imperfections in their men. I won't have it, I tell you!"

"Actually?" Laure replied. "I think that it was the Dean's anti-EA advocacy that got Tara a little confu--"

"Whatevah!" Emmy slammed her hand against the table. "She's on academic probation, effective immediately. Remedial Ho training to start ASAP, and she's not to be left alone with the Wench." At Laure's uncertain look, she stated, "I mean it... Where's Judy?"

"She was expecting a delivery of linseed oil and couldn't leave the bar," Laure responded.

"Fine. I'll discuss her Padawan's behaviour with her later." Emmy leashed Lasher and set him down as she stood up. "You two work out the freshman's new schedule. I suggest that she be dropped from her Edible Finger Painting and General Massage courses until she's satisfied the terms of her probation."

"But she's doing very well in her classes," Laure protested.

Dande nodded, sending her curls a-bobbing. "I see...no reason to hold her back...academically, Emmy. The Mediator and I will...work out a...suitable schedule of...remedial studies."

"Fine," the Dean sniffed. "But I'd better see some serious improvement in her Ho 'tude," she warned as she left the room.

Laure sank back in her chair with a sigh, then glanced at the clock and brightened. "Gotta go!" she said, leaping to her feet.

"Shouldn't we...work on this," Dande asked, pertly cocking her head.

"Yeah, sure, first thing in the morning," Laure said absently as she headed for the door. "Two more minutes," she giggled, dashing out of the room.

Dande shook her head and wondered...how to explain this...latest round of...odd behavior to Da Mastah.