Rounding the corner of her trailer Emmy skidded to a halt to prevent herself from falling over one of about fifty large boxes piled up in front of and on her now sagging porch. A UPS guy stood there, tapping his electric pen on his electric pad.

"Dean Emmy?"

"Maybe."

"Sign here."

"For what?"

He shrugged and glanced at his pad. "Says something about office supplies."

"Great, no building to put them in and it looks like it's going to rain this weekend," Emmy muttered as she signed.

As the UPS guy hurried away from what had been, a week before on his prior delivery, an elegant if rather odd university and was now a trashy trailer park, the Dean pried open one box marked 'staples'.

Her howl of outrage could be heard nearly as far as Wanker College.

Wincing, Shana stepped out of her trailer next door to see Emmy flinging dozens of pairs of white cotton bloomers on the ground and stomping on them.

*****

Bored with choosing plants, Laure finished off a sandwich and headed back outside. Hands in her back pockets, kicking aside a couple of chickens, she wandered towards the rugby pitch. It was finally quiet there, although that was probably due to the fact that most of the former gladiators were nursing bruises, black eyes and busted teeth.

Max and Jael sat slumped at the entrance to the camp, swords braced in front of them, chests heaving from exertion. Even Space Dog was panting.

"Having problems?" Laure called.

"Thank god," Jael cried, jumping to her feet. "I don't know what went wrong. Cal said something to Vocab and Vocab hit a miner by accident and the miner hit Hak and..." She grabbed Laure's arm and pulled her into the camp. "Mediate."

"I don't do that anymore."

Jael gaped at her. "But, but," she floundered. "What do you do then?"

Laure shrugged. "Maybe I can get a job singing in the new cabaret Judy's putting in. I can swing and sing at the same time."

"But, we need you."

"Why? No one listens to me. It's okay. I'm used to it." As she talked, she examined some of the injuries. "I think this one's going septic."

"Cal needs you," Jael tried to convince her.

Laure snorted. "Cal needs round the clock psychiatric care."

"But, you usually handle him enough to keep this kind of thing from happening."

"So? Broken nose, take him to the Nurse."

"And risk his life?" Max muttered.

"Jael, you all managed without a mediator for several months before I arrived, so you can obviously survive without me. I always thought the place would burn down, fall over and sink into the swamp without me, but it did that just fine with me here."

"It didn't burn," Jael muttered, crestfallen.

"I think this one has a concussion, and I'm sure a bonfire one of these nights will set the trailers on fire." Laure smiled cheerfully. "The wind is blowing from the direction of the trailer park. You might want to move the tents a bit that way, just in case." She glanced at her watch. "I suggest keeping Cal away from the real men, and now I'm going to be late for tea with Dande. Toodles."

Max and Jael stared at each other.

"Was that Commodus' lady? Really? Truly?"

"Pod person."

"Hm?"

Jael shook her head. "I'll explain it later. Let's get these couple of guys to the Nurse. You distract Cicero while I shove them in her trailer."

*****

All glowing and beaming, Dande welcomed Laure into the comfortable cottage garden. The roses were blooming, covering the trellises with fragrant red flowers. Cara lay in her swing, cooing and punching the air with little fists, as Dande rocked her gently with one hand while pouring tea with the other.

"Oh dear, did something happen to your new wardrobe?"

"No, I just felt like a change of pace." Laure plopped down on a cushioned bench and crossed her legs.

"You're not wearing any shoes." Dande was clearly puzzled. "But, you love shoes."

"Hm?" Laure took her cup and saucer and ladled sugar into her tea. "Yes, I do."

"Laure, what's wrong?"

"Basically everything," Laure replied, still cheerfully.

Dande frowned even more. "Has Emmy said something," she tried delicately.

Snorting, Laure sipped her tea and reached for a piece of shortbread. "When hasn't Emmy said something? I'm a Wench and a Princess and an ungrateful tart who drove the General away, or something or other. I pretty much tune her out these days."

"You're not a Wench, although you'd make an excellent one."

"No, I wouldn't. Sorry, Dande, but I don't have that in me. And, I don't have it in me to be an excellent Ho, either. There's even some whiny Princess in me."

Dande was clearly confused. She actually got a crumb on her red silk blouse. "What are you saying?"

"I'm not really sure," Laure replied honestly. "We joke about hybrids, and Emmy and Darry talk about wenching their lovers in bed, but no one has really thought about what it means to be a bit of everything and not be wholly anything."

"Laure, you're wholly you."

"Yeah, but just who am I?" She leaned down and smiled at the baby. "I want a baby, but it's wrong for Ho's to want to be mothers. I love silk and pastels, but that's wrong, too. On the other hand, I couldn't make doe eyes if you paid me, and there's only so much pampering of a man I can do before I turn the tables on him. And I whine and complain a lot."

"So, what the heck am I?"

"What has made you so insecure in yourself? You never let Emmy's comments get to you."

"It's not Emmy." Laure sighed and leaned back, breathing in the scent of roses. "Did you know that the other night the General left our bed and locked me in his room while he went to talk to Max and Qui-Gon?"

Dande gasped in horror, her hand going to her mouth, her eyes widening.

"At first, I went back to the bed to wait, but then I got mad and broke the lock and left. Shana and I went away for two days and I calmed down. I understand the stress Obi-Wan must be under trying to keep us all sane and continue to run the school when there's very little school left. I forgave him."

"And then I came home and found my trailer painted hideous colors. I was mad, yes, but what sent me into a tailspin was finding out that he'd taken part in the painting, knowing I don't like practical jokes, knowing that I like elegant, pretty things, knowing that my way of dealing with the stress of our living situation would not be to do something like that."

"Or, at least, the Obi-Wan I fell in love with would have known."

Dande gave her a sympathetic look. "I heard that he repainted it last night."

"Apparently he sent away the crew I'd hired and did the job himself while I slept. But, he never apologized. He never even tried to see me, to talk to me. He spent hours painting my trailer while I slept in the arms of another man."

Dande grasped onto that and ran with it. "You feel guilty?"

Laure shook her head and Dande deflated. "No. I've never felt guilty about Commo or Spike. The only time I felt guilty was when I was with Xani, and not because of Dor, but because Obi-Wan is everything that Xani isn't. No, it's not guilt, though I must admit to a bit of concern. With his Jedi senses he must have known what was happening in my trailer last night."

"And still he painted," Dande pointed out.

"And has apparently gone even nuttier, if you've read his announcements of new rules and seminars."

"Oh, yes, I got a copy."

"I'm just waiting for Emmy to accuse me of driving him to that by my ungrateful attitude, but I don't really care. What I care about is that I had an epiphany last night."

"An epiphany? Why?"

"No clue. But, I'm making some changes in my life."

"You know I'll support you," Dande offered.

Smiling, Laure tickled Cara, then rose to her feet. "Thanks, Dande. Feel free to spread this bit of gossip. I know how much you love doing that."

Dande smiled, a gleam in her eye.

Laughing, Laure headed back to the trailer park.

*****

When she reached her trailer, she wasn't really surprised to find Xani missing. Dorotea could only go so long without him, after all.

Too bad the Zima tea had also been peppered with salt peter. He wouldn't be any good to her for a couple of days.

As she settled on the stoop, Pelham, a frown on his face, and a lace handkerchief held to his nose, wended his way around the chicken droppings towards her. He bowed, she smiled. He launched into his concerns.

"The paint remover removed a layer of his skin."

"Pity."

"He's swearing revenge on you."

"He knows what the other two Jedi will do to him if he causes me any harm, physical or emotional."

Pelham sighed heavily. "I much prefer you as a lady, Lady."

"I know, my Lord. I'm just tired of it." She patted the stoop next to her and he gave her a horrified look, his eyes going from his very expensive silk and linen trousers to her smiling face and back again.

"I think there's one bottle of 1988 Krug left."

He sat gingerly down as she rose to fetch the bottle of champagne and two glasses. When she returned, she found him dusting the space next to him with his handkerchief. Laure bit back a giggle and plopped down. She poured them each a glass, then raised hers. "To revenge."

"Lady..."

Rolling her eyes, Laure amended her toast. "Oh, all right. To...a gorgeous day."

Pelham nodded and took a sip, savoring the explosion of taste. "You have too much style to devolve to this state, my Lady."

"Thank you, Pelham, but I'm tired of being stylish all the time. I'll leave that to you. You do it so well."

Graciously nodding his acceptance of her compliment, he took another sip. "Marvelous." He watched the pleasure cross her face as she took a sip. "It's so nice to see a person savor something."

"I'm sure Dor savors her Makers," she teased.

Pelham sighed and held his glass up to the sunlight. "Perhaps I should attempt again to introduce her to the finer things in life."

"Might want to wait until we get out of these tin cans and back in a real building."

"Yes, excellent idea."

Dorotea's howl of outrage sounded across the trailer court, making Pelham wince and Laure giggle.

*****

The sun was sinking behind Tara's now very rusted trailer, when Shana strolled up to Laure's stoop carrying Chinese take out.

"Whatcha doing?"

"Watching the sunset," Laure replied. "I never take the time to enjoy the small things anymore."

"Who has time for anything these days," Shana complained, joining her friend on the stoop and handing her a box. "Sesame chicken."

"Thanks."

Shana opened her own meal and dug a set of chopsticks out of the bag. "Where's Commo?"

"I told him it would probably be best for him to spend the entire day at the golf club. He took one look at me and agreed."

"Uh huh. So, what *is* up with you?"

"Change."

"Fun."

Laure shrugged and dug into her dinner. "Anyone making any progress on rebuilding?"

"I've spent the day getting the finances sorted. It would have been so much more helpful with the General, but he disappeared this morning."

"My fault," Laure replied, unapologetically.

"Oookayyy."

"I'm ungrateful, you know."

Shana gave her the narrowed eye look. "Are your flipping out?"

"Depends on who you listen to. How's Scott handling the downward mobility? Get the bots put back together?"

"Scott's fine, spending most of his time in the garage, as usual. The bots are still in pieces. I have no office. I have no need for them."

"Yeah, I'm not working either."

"So I gathered. I saw wounded gladiators and bickering Ho's all day long everywhere I went."

"I make no difference here," Laure replied cheerfully. "You know, it's quite a relief to not have to worry about taking care of everyone and every problem."

"Oookayyy."

*****

When the sun hit the horizon, Laure lit the citronella candle, leaned against the post on her stoop and took a sip of her ice cold Bud. Several fires had been lit, raucous music filled the air along with laughter mixed with swearing, and the smell of barbecue wafted towards her on the gentle breeze.

Wheeling his golf bag behind him, Commo approached her cautiously. "May I come home now, my love?"

"Yep."

His brow furrowed and he ran his eyes over her. "You are still in your cleaning attire?"

"Didn't clean anything, sweetheart." She raised the bottle to her lips.

"Do you want a glass?"

"Nope. Sit, enjoy the night."

"My Lady, I fear something is terribly wrong."

Laure grabbed his hand and tugged him down beside her, cuddling up against him. "Hush." She lay her head on his broad shoulder and sighed.

"Do you want to know how my day went?"

"No, Commo, I don't. I'm sure you had a good time, but I don't need a minute by minute recitation."

He frowned even more and touched the hole in her jeans that bared her knee. "Perhaps I should fetch Lord Qui-Gon's lady."

"I've already talked to Dande. Commo, I'm tired of playing games and trying to figure out who and what I am. This is me for now, accept it."

"Games?"

"Don't get excited, hon." She handed him her beer and he hesitantly sipped it.

"This is very common." There was a hint of excitement in his voice, as if it was naughty and bold to try something as common as cold domestic beer from a bottle.

"Yep," she replied with a smile.

*****

Many hours later, unable to sleep, Laure slipped back outside, wearing only one of Commo's cotton shirts. Rolling up the too long sleeves, she sat back down on the stoop. The trailer park was quiet, no lights shining in any of the windows, and only the moon and stars lit the darkness.

"After all my protestations, *I'm* the one sitting on my front stoop in the Holler," she mused to herself.

"Laure?"

Nearly jumping out of her skin, Laure peered into the darkness and saw a male figure standing by the toppled mailbox.

"Obi-Wan?"

He came closer until he stood only a few feet from where she sat, and broke the silence with, "Your mailbox got knocked over."

"Yeah, I kicked it until it fell over."

His eyes widened.

"I'm not a hunter, General."

"Well, no, of course..." he stammered. His eyes slid from her to the trailer. "I see it's back to normal."

"Thanks to you."

"No, no," he shook his head in denial.

"Really, Obi-Wan, I've heard from half the Ho's how you gave up your whole night to return this ungrateful Ho's trailer back to its normal state. And then I somehow managed to send you fleeing into the dawn, or something. It's easy to blame the doormat for everything."

"Laure, you're not a doormat," he replied, concern ringing in his voice.

"Not anymore."

"I spent the day meditating. Nothing you did sent me away."

"I know, but it's natural for the Ho's to look for a scapegoat for every little thing that goes wrong."

"That doesn't say much for them."

"And it's not something I'd ever say?" she continued for him. "I just can't seem to care anymore, General. I'm tired of trying to make everyone's life better and ignoring my own. They don't want my help, so I'm going to try something new." Rising to her feet, she tugged the shirt down and crossed her arms over her chest. "Judy's opening a cabaret. I plan to sing there. Come by sometime, if you want." Turning, she opened the screen door.

"Laure, I love you."

Laure stilled, her fingers clenching around the door frame, as a shudder of emotion ran through her from his softly yet powerfully spoken words. Finally, she murmured, "I know you do, Obi- Wan. You love us all," before entering her trailer and closing the door behind her.

End Laure