Title: On With the Show
Author: Laure/Siren
Rating: CCCC (Cabaret, Can-Can and Construction)
Disclaimer: GL has so incredibly little to do with any of this,
but I guess a few characters vaguely resemble some of his, so I'm sure he has his proprietary hands all over them.
Distribution: Duh, Darry will have to send it to hotmail addy as I don't have your other one here.
Author's Notes: Takes place over the last couple of days.

Laure leaned against the bar in the Cabaret, elbows resting on the smooth as a baby's butt top, surveying the stringing of her trapeze swing by Cal and Vocab. Cal was sweating profusely and trying not to gawk at the former mediator who wore only a pair of cut-off white jean shorts and a red halter top. Vocab was cursing with every other growl and thwapping Cal ever third growl.

"You're going to end up on your butt, you know," Judy supplied helpfully.

"I have full confidence in someone catching me."

Judy snorted and continued to dry her selection of plastic cups. "Hey, we can take this one back to 7-11 for a slushie refill."

"You have the Cabaret finally, and your pub's in the works. When is that shipment of new bar glasses and accouterments due?"

"Two weeks ago," the bartender growled, rubbing harder.

Laure turned to give Judy a significant look. "Tell me the champagne arrived."

"The champagne arrived. It's chilling in the walk-in fridge."

"Good."

The Host aka Lorne aka Green Scary Guy (according to Cal) strolled up to the bar set discreetly in the corner of the night club.

"Love the look, doll," he smirked at Laure. "Screams Betty Jo Bob."

Laure flipped him off, then stared at the trapeze. It was listing dangerously to one side. "You idiots," she yelled as she stormed towards them.

"Ah, the diva personality."

Judy grinned and handed the Host a G & T, extra G. "That's all we need. Two of them."

"I just hope she can hold the crowd. I signed up for a karoke bar, not a night club."

"You'll do fine. She'll flash her legs and have all the miners drooling in their champagne."

"We really should look into signing some other acts."

Judy smiled indulgently at the perplexed green guy. "Oh, this place won't last long. You'll see. Live here for a few more months and you'll get used to things going in and out of fashion at the drop of a hat. By then my new pub will be all fitted out and we'll move there permanently. Booze never goes out of style."

"And I thought L.A. was weird..."

*****

The General stuck his head out of his bedroom cum office-- which really worked well considering the kind of work he did- -and smiled adoringly at his secretary. Kendra gave him a guilty look back and switched off the solitaire game she'd been playing.

"Kendra, love, has my tuxedo come back from the cleaners yet? I hope they were able to get the absinthe out of it."

"Yeah, it really stunk. And, no, not yet."

He frowned. "Laure really wanted me to wear it tonight."

"They said it would be ready after five. Cal has explicit instructions to pick it up and bring it here or die a horribly flaming death."

The General chuckled indulgently, believing she was joking. "So, what's next on my schedule?"

Kendra glanced at the calendar and frowned. Dorotea had canceled again and Kendra hadn't stuck herself in there. "Um, you have a free hour."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows shot up elegantly and he smiled. "Hm, some time to myself. Whatevah shall I do?" He strolled past his secretary, wearing only a pair of tight black pants and a blue shirt.

"Oh, you could *censor*..." Kendra muttered as he disappeared out the door. "Well, no reason to keep not working then." Flipping off the light, she reached for the plastic monitor cover, just as the phone rang.

"Gen's office."

"Kendra? Is that you? The connection is horrible," Ellie's voice yelled over the long distance line.

"Ellie? Where are you? I thought you were coming back home."

"When there's a home to come back to. The Four Seasons Cairo is much more elegant than a trailer. So, what's up?"

"Well, parts of the buildings are done. The foundations. And we have a red windmill and a cabaret."

"Do I want to know why?" Ellie sighed.

"You're missing the General doing the tango and wearing suspenders and typing on a really old typewriter."

"Sounds fun. I think I'll stay here."

"And Laure's debuting her cabaret act tonight and Tara and I plan to accidently set off the sprinklers."

"Definitely staying here."

*****

Wearing bikinis, sarongs and flip-flops, Tara and Jen headed for the "office" to drag Kendra to the pool--one of the few surviving structures of the old school. Passing the Nurse's "clinic", they stopped and watched the dragon snort fire every time the trailer listed dangerously to one side.

"Geez, I guess it pays to be a nurse. She must be giving him some major kind of Spanish Fly," Jen pointed out.

Tara made the 'euuuu' face. "They so need a life."

"Wonder if it's available at the Pink Banana."

"You ever get your account back?"

Jen growled and nodded. "Had to basically sign over my life."

"Worth it?" Tara asked.

The growl turned into a chuckle. "Oh yeah."

Leaving the newlyweds' trailer, they continued through the park, making faces at the weeds coming up through the dirty gravel and broken paving stones.

"This place is falling apart. We really need our dorm back," Tara said, making a face.

"Well, we could have taken up my master's offer of Offworld builders. Bet they'd work faster than these imperial union contractors."

"Yeah, but then we'd be subjected to whips and stuff."

"And that's a problem why?"

"Home of the free and everything?" Tara shrugged, then stopped to look at the dangerously rocking bookmobile. "Guess it's a good thing we hit Barnes & Noble yesterday."

"Another couple--triple--who need to get a life," Jen added in agreement as a tire blew out and the whole thing listed. Ignoring the crashes from inside, the pair headed towards the General's trailer.

*****

"What do you mean you're taking a three day weekend?" the Diva yelled at the foreman. She swung her arms around in emphasis and pointed to the foundations of the two buildings. "Those damn basements have been sitting there for a week!"

"They need to dry more."

"It hasn't rained in over a week. They're as dry as freakin' dust."

"Are you a member of the Foundation and Bricklayers Union, ma'am?"

"No," Emmy growled.

The foreman continued in his pleasant, superior tone of voice, "Then please don't try to tell me my job. On Monday we should be able to start the framing. That is, if the Framers Union is done with framing the new Imperial Palace, and it doesn't rain." Glancing up, he smiled benignly at the dark clouds in the West.

"Shit..." Emmy stormed off, kicking a chicken out of her way, then an Ewok. "Get back to work," she yelled at the dazed teddy bear. "No one frakin' works around here!"

As she disappeared down the path to the cottage, two other Ewoks picked up their fallen companion.

"Yub chub bub wub?" *Time for the evil one to die?*

"Rub a dub bub bub." *Her imperial control is weakening, soon, soon.*

*****

Without an office, Dande was performing her counseling duties in her garden. Stretched on a lounger wearing a pareo and sunglasses, she rocked Cara in her shaded swing with one hand, while listening to Cal with one ear.

"...And then she yelled at me. Miss Laure yelled at me. She never yelled at me before. All the others always yell at me, but she never did and now she does and...

Emmy stomped into the garden. "Get out."

Before Dande could even begin to protest, Cal gave a squeal of fright and bounded off the bench, tripped over a bush and disappeared from the garden.

"Emmy," Dande chided gently.

"No one's paying you to counsel Cal."

"Actually, no one's paying me at all. I just seem to have room and board and an unlimited expense account." Sitting up, Dande poured iced tea from a chilled pitcher, and handed her friend one of the glasses.

"Whatevah. You're here to help *us*. The Ho's. Especially me."

Chuckling, Dande gestured for Emmy to spill the beans.

"Damn er dang builders, darn Ewoks, dim-witted chickens..."

"The usual, then?"

Emmy glared at her friend.

*****

Sitting gingerly on her trapeze, Laure gave it an experimental swing. Haken stood behind her to catch her if the whole thing came crashing down.

"Schoene Fraulein, swingit," he encouraged with a toothy grin, his hands inches from her barely covered butt.

She swung a bit harder, glancing up to check that nothing was coming loose from the ceiling beams.

"Make sure you point your toes," the Host added, trying to be helpful and making a face at her barefeet. "I trust you will be wearing shoes?"

"Ha ha."

The door opened and Shana strolled in, bearing a pile of papers which she dumped on the first table. She beckoned for Laure to join her.

"What is all that?" the songstress asked, sliding gracefully to the floor and ignoring the pout on Haken's face from not getting to catch her.

Shana sighed heavily and sank into a chair. "I swear, this was not my idea."

Frowning, Laure joined her at the table and picked up the first piece of paper, scanning the large type. "WHAT?" She began to turn red.

"Well, technically you're not holding up your end of your work contract..."

"Emmy's behind this, isn't she," Laure demanded, her fingers crumpling the paper as they balled into a fist.

"Well, that fake General put the paperwork in motion..."

"Like she's done anything work related since the university sank into the hellmouth," Laure continued to rant. "I'll sing if I damn well want to."

"It's not a cease and desist letter, Laure. You can moonlight here all you want, as long as you go back to mediating."

"N...O...NO."

"Just a couple hours a day. No Cal, I promise," Shana cajoled. "If you don't go back to work, you'll lose your share of the diamond mine and your suite in the new building."

"Don't threaten me."

"I'm not threatening you," Shana yelled back. "Emmy's threatening you."

"She can't do this anyway. The Board of Regents would have to do it and we haven't met in months. AND," Laure stressed, "The General would have to agree to it, and we'll just see about that." Flinging the papers away, Laure stormed over to the jazz band that was warming up and soon the strains of 'I Will Survive' were wafting through the Club as she grabbed the microphone."

"Oh, that went well," Shana groaned, rubbing her temples.

"Oh mah," the General's surprised croon came from behind her, sending gooey feelings through her. He slipped into the seat Laure had vacated. "She sings very well, but why is she so angry?"

Shana unballed the letter and passed it to him. Reading it, he quickly began to shake his head.

"Emmy, Emmy...what??? I didn't sign this!"

"The imposter."

"Nothing he did is official in any way. I'll have a chat with Emmy and get this straightened out. I'm sure Laure will feel like mediating again once she has an office back and...is she barefoot?"

Shana rolled her eyes and kept her mouth shut.

When the song ended, Laure looked up to the sound of applause and saw the General sitting alone, Shana having slipped away to teach Scott how to tango. Just the sight of Obi-Wan, a slight smile on his sensual lips, wafted away most of the bad emotions, and Laure drifted over to him.

"That was wonderful." Taking her hand, he gently pulled her into the seat next to him. "I'm glad to see you filling your time with something you obviously enjoy."

"Thanks. But, it's not just a time-filler."

"Um, yes." He gestured to the letter and pile of supporting documents. "Don't worry. You're very needed here. I hope you don't plan to go anywhere else."

"Hmmm." Leaning forward, she kissed him. "Nope, no plans."

"You know, I have wondered about these..., He hesitated, "changes."

"I had an epiphany."

"And?"

"I don't think this place really needs a mediator."

He smiled soothingly. "I think you're wrong, dearest. You're very important here as both yourself and as a mediator. I'm sure the place would have fallen over long before without your presence."

"So maybe I put off the inevitable for a few months. The stress isn't worth that. And nobody really listens to me."

"I listen to you."

"You're very sweet."

His smile turned wolfish. "I can be nawtay, too."

Laure grinned and tightened her hold on his hand. "You know, I actually have your imposter to thank for this epiphany." At his surprise, she continued. "His actions, the way he treated me, the way I *let* him treat me, pissed me off so much, I decided to make some radical changes."

"Um, yes, about those." His eyes drifted over her outfit. "Not that your new look isn't adorable, but..."

"Where are the silks and satins and lace? You're not the only one befuddled, Obi-Wan darling," she laughed. "Don't worry, they're still there, and you'll see me in some tonight, but all that lace and elegance was beginning to strangle me."

"And the basketball and gardening? Love, you don't like exercise."

"But, I used to love both those activities, before sweat and dirt seemed to become too common or some such crap for me."

"And beating up princesses?" he drawled.

Laure flushed. "So, I let my inner Ho free finally. Sue me," she finished cheekily.

Obi-Wan leaned closer and whispered, "How about instead we go some place quiet and you show me if there's any lace under those very naughty shorts."

"Why General, how impromptu of you." Grinning, Laure dragged him to his feet and they dashed out the door of the club.

The Host turned to Judy and smirked. "Does he use some kind of Jedi power to keep going and going?"

Judy smirked back. "Wouldn't you like to know."

*****

As Laure headed back to her trailer an hour later, a bit swoony, Jael strode up to her, fully armored, hand on the hilt of her barely sheathed sword.

"We're going to be attacked, you know."

"I read the memo," Laure replied, stifling a yawn.

Jael shook his head. "We're tempting the fates."

"Jael, honey, when *aren't* we? Don't worry about it. Get in your party dress and put Max in his tux and come have fun tonight."

Jael hesitated, shifting from one foot to the other, frowning slightly. "...We're wearing our swords," she finally conceded.

"Fine. You do that. And I suggest staying away from the absinthe."

"Check."

"How's Spike?" Laure asked with a smirk on her face.

Jael blushed and stammered that the vampire was doing much better in the grieving process.

"Uh huh," the former mediator replied, grinning.

*****

Inside Laure's trailer, Kymira was finishing ironing the hem of the satin dress, scowling as she did it.

"I didn't sign on for playing maid servant," she shot at her master as she walked in.

Laure closed the door behind her. "Ky, don't complain. I haven't made you actually work in weeks. You've spent the time locked in your trailer breaking in your new EAs. I hope you're planning to bring them to my debut. I'm sure Ardeth looks yummy in a tux."

Kymira flushed and turned off the iron. "He's a great tangoer, too."

"I bet." Laure took the dress and carefully hung it on a hanger. "Now, run along and have some fun, and thanks for getting the outfit ready."

"No problem," Kymira conceded, grabbing her purse and dashing out the door.

*****

Commo hooked the clasp on the diamond necklace around Laure's neck, then stepped back to smile in pleasure. "There's my beautiful swan."

Laure gazed critically into the mirror at her reflection wrapped in the red satin dress. Diamonds sparkled at her wrists, throat and ears, and in the combs holding her hair in a luxurious pile on her head. Carefully she took a deep breath, silently thanking Dande for the breathing lessons and god for her naturally small waist that meant the corset didn't have to be tightened so much she wouldn't be able to sing.

"It's just a costume, Commo. Don't get to used to it."

His hands came down gently on her shoulders and she saw his reflection frown as his thumbs rubbed at freckles. "But, you are so lovely and luscious and lustrous."

"All cats are the same color in the dark."

"Are we getting a cat?" he asked, puzzled.

Turning, Laure brushed a kiss over his lips and then stepped back to admire him in his cutaway black coat and purple brocade waistcoat, his cravat tied in an elaborate knot, a diamond tie pin gleaming in the white silk folds.

"When we come home tonight, remind me to make you purr," Laure teased.

Baffled and a bit aroused, Commo followed her into the night.

*****

Opening night went perfectly. No falling off the swing. Only a tiny bit of sliding on the overly slick piano top--Cal would pay for that. No Water Hos setting off the sprinklers, thanks to the General and the awesome power of his gaze. In between the two sets, the floor was filled with tango dancers, the miners having actually taken well to the lessons. No one attacked anything, and Jael and Max actually relaxed long enough to do an extremely sexy tango.

Darry and Cicero showed up--late, of course--and spent most of the ten minutes they were there playing footsie and whispering to each other.

All in all, a good time was had by everyone.

*****

Well into the depth of the night, the door to the darkened Cabaret swung open and the Nurse and her Servant/husband slipped inside. As Cicero lit a few candles, Darry found the switch for the swing and lowered it just so, then examined the widened seat that Laure had demanded be installed instead of the traditional round bar.

Two robes fell to the floor and strong masculine hands lifted the limber redhead onto the swing, setting it in motion at just the right height for a bit of *censoring*.

And a good time was had by two more.

End

Happy late bday, Dar!

Sorry to make you the villain, Em. <G>

I was gonna have the Ewoks attack, but I didn't want to run this over into the spectacular you grrls are writing this weekend. You *are* writing this weekend, right?