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Title: Risky Jedi Business

By: Judy

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Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas, I'm only borrowing Obi-Wan for just a little bit, I promise.

Archive: jedihunks, corellia, sarah, etc. Summary: A Jedi apprentice gets more than he bargains for when he's left home alone for the evening.

Author's Notes: Okay, I was told to write this plot bunny up, so here it is (well, part 1 anyway). This kinda took on a life of it's own after I got started writing, and so I have to say that the movie Risky Business has just served as inspiration more than anything (besides, my memories of that movie are pretty vague anyway). And also, I consider this my homage to our esteemed comic geniuses ElaineMc and Aya. Hope I do you gals justice with this one!

‘Finally! Got the joint to myself!’ Obi-Wan thought gleefully after wishing his Master a good evening. “Woo hoo!”

The eighteen-year-old Jedi padawan was home alone. His Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, had been coerced ... well, that was a polite term. His Master’s language had been a bit more harsh ... by Master Windu into attending some high-level Senate reception. Master Windu had said to expect a very late night. Qui-Gon had not been pleased.

Apprentices weren’t included on the invitation and that suited Obi-Wan just fine. He turned around and looked at the quarters he shared with Qui-Gon. ‘What to do? What to do? Meditate? Nah. Levitate stuff? Nah. Saber practice. No way. Would probably knock something over. Hmm...’ Obi-Wan couldn’t decide.

Then inspiration struck. His Master’s music collection. 'He won’t mind if I borrow some music crystals to listen to.' Obi-Wan knew his Master had eclectic tastes, but...dang! “Let’s see,” he murmured to himself as he rummaged through the crystals, “ ‘Akiri Farlik and the Starshines’? Ewww.” Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose, shuddering slightly. “How old is that?” He picked up another one. “Who’s this?” He’d never heard of the musician. “Bob Seger and the Silver-Bullet Band? Sounds as bad as that Starshines group.”

But something pulled at Obi-Wan. The Force? Nope, just curiosity. He had to listen to the Bob Seger crystal. Putting it in the player, Obi-Wan cringed slightly, but was pleasantly surprised when the jamming sounds of Bob Seger came bursting forth from the speakers. “Wizard! Not bad, Master, not bad.” The music wasn’t as hard as Obi-Wan usually liked, but the beat was compelling and soon Obi-Wan was moving to the music.

Suddenly, the comm unit buzzed, and Obi-Wan paused the player to see who it was. “Traz! Gods, it’s good to see you!” Obi-Wan beamed at his old friend from their academy days. “Are you here on Coruscant?”

“Yes, my friend. My Master and I arrived two days ago. I apologize for not contacting you sooner but he kept me busy with paperwork, errands. You know how it is.”

“Tell me about it. Hey, listen, I’m Master-less this evening. Wanna go do something?”

“Actually that’s what I was calling *you* about,” laughed Traz. “My poor Master had to go to some Senate thing. Boooring.”

“Yours too? Wonder what they did to deserve that punishment? Ha!” Obi-Wan and Traz both laughed evilly.

Plans were made and Obi-Wan ended the call.

They were going out. Two guys out on the prowl. It was time to get in the mood to party:

The music blared: “Duhn, duhn, duhn, duhn, DUHN, duhn, duhn, dunh”

Obi-Wan slid into the living room in nothing but his white shirt, underwear, and socks. Wearing shades and holding a brush, he began dancing around the apartment and singing the lyrics at the top of his lungs.

“Just take those old records off the shelf.”

On the couch, he performed an air guitar jam.

“I’ll sit and listen to them by myself.”

On the kitchen bar, he shook what he supposed was his “groove thang.”

“Today’s music ain’t got the same soul.”

In front of his bedroom mirror, he sang to his imaginary audience.

“I like that old time rock n’ roll.”

Across the living room floor, he ended his show with a well-timed knee slide.

“Yeah!” He pumped a fist.

“Thank you, Coruscant!” he shouted, then started when the door chimed. “Oh, Great Bantha! Just a minute!”

He hurriedly pulled on his pants, found some shoes, then rushed to the door. He was still trying to cram on an uncooperative shoe, when the door slid open to reveal Traz and .... some other people. A lot of other people.

Obi-Wan stared. “Umm...Traz?...ummm”

“Hey, Obi-Wan! Great to see you! I hope you don’t mind me bringing over some other friends. Word about the party kinda got out.”

“Yeah, I see,” Obi-Wan replied weakly. He was getting a bad feeling about this. “But I thought we were going *out*?”

“Wellll,” said Traz looking down at his feet. “My Master doesn’t want me leaving the Temple without him because of what happened the last time, but that’s not important right now. And besides," he continued on quickly. "your place is big enough for this party!”

With that, a stream of people poured past Obi-Wan into the apartment. Everyone seemed to be carrying liquor of some variety or another. “Psst. Traz! They’ve all got alcohol!” Obi-Wan hissed.

“Yeah, I know!” said Traz excitedly. “And guess what else I brought?”

With that, in walked a group of women wearing various states of undress.

Obi-Wan had a strong feeling they didn’t live here in the Jedi Temple.

Chapter 2

Obi-Wan couldn’t look. He was gonna get real dead real quick when Master Qui-Gon returned.

CRASH!

Obi-Wan shuddered and kept his eyes shut. “Sorrish about the lampsh,” someone slurred. ‘Oh, no’ the young man thought. ‘This is not happening.’

It seemed like an eternity now but in fact had only been a couple of hours since his and Qui-Gon’s quarters had been overrun with revelers, both from the Jedi Temple and from without. Many had already been well advanced in the stages of drunkness and the rest needed little encouragement to follow suit.

Obi-Wan braved a peek at the destruction. It would take years to clean the mess. Food was everywhere. Empty bottles and cans lay scattered all over the floor. His Master’s plants, well...there would definitely be hell to pay for that. Thank the Force, he had thought to lock his Master’s quarters, but his own...Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he wanted to go in there.

Music blared so loudly his ears were hurting. His friend, Traz, was lying on the couch surrounded by some of the women that had come with his friend. Traz looked totally smashed and was leering at one of the women, who squealed in delight when the man pinched her rear end.

“Come on, lighten up,” Traz had said when Obi-Wan tried to protest the party. “Our Masters will be out probably till dawn knowing those Senate parties. We’ll clean everything up. Master Qui-Gon will never know.”

And against his better judgment, Obi-Wan had relented. And so, he had spent the past two hours rushing around the apartment in horror trying to pick up after people, keep them out of cabinets and drawers, prevent broken dishes...and it was all to no avail. He was definitely dead.

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!

Obi-Wan jumped at the loud pounding on the door. He blanched. It couldn’t be his Master, no, no, it couldn’t be...please, please, please, don’t let it be, he prayed to any deity he could think of.

Magically, the music had stopped and the place fell silent as all heads and eyes turned to the door. A collective breath was held as Obi-Wan palmed the door control. The door slid open to reveal...Master Mace Windu. Obi-Wan felt faint. This was even worse! Several people gasped.

Master Windu had his usual stern look on his face, arms crossed, legs braced apart. He glared down at Obi-Wan. “And what is all this?” He gestured to indicate the pandamonium within. “Master Qui-Gon is gone for one night, and you throw a party.” Windu’s gaze never wavered. Obi-Wan wished he could just disappear, very quickly. He swallowed, then straightened under the Master’s intense stare. “Yes, Master Windu. I take full responsibility for this party. It was wrong of me. I’ll...” But Windu stopped Obi-Wan’s apology with a wave.

“Just remember, Padawan.” He smiled broadly at Obi-Wan’s puzzled look. “Next time don’t forget to invite *me.* Now, pour me some Corellian whisky and let’s get on with this party!”

With that, Master Windu sauntered in and made straight for the women. “Why, hello, ladies.” The women all giggled and immediately rushed to his side. “I’m sorry Padawan Traz,” said Mace looking down at the dumbfounded youth. “But I am a Master after all.” The music had resumed and everyone seemed to pick up where they had left off.

Obi-Wan blinked several times trying to clear his mind. He felt like *he’d* just drunk the entire bottle of Corellian whisky himself. Master Windu...*The* Master Windu...was at his party. What the hell was going on here?

“Oh, man,” breathed Traz who had come up next to him. “I had heard rumors that he liked to party, but I never really believed them.”

“But, I thought he was going to the Senate reception too?” Obi-Wan couldn’t help but stare as Windu began kissing each woman in turn.

“No, man, he just sent our Masters to it. I know Master Pons was majorly pissed off that Master Windu got out of going. Do you think he knew what we would do?”

“How could he have? *I* didn’t even know!” Obi-Wan yelled. He had gotten to the point where he wanted everyone gone, now, but how could he tell everyone to leave with Master Windu here!? He was still dead.

The door chimed again. “What now?” Obi-Wan groused. He opened the door and felt all color drain from his face yet again. It was them! He’d seen them lurking around the Temple doors whenever he and Qui-Gon had ventured out into Coruscant proper. They were always staring at him. And now he was trapped! How had they gotten here?

“Well, aren’t you going to invite us in, you lovely thang you?” “Yeah, you aren’t going to make us wait any longer?” “Oh my, I do believe you are the perfect padawan!” “He’s even more gorgeous up close!” “Hmm...I think what’s needed here is some black leather!” “I brought our supplies. Ladies, grab your glitter!”

Before he knew it, Obi-Wan was surrounded. He was vaguely away of Traz laughing at him and saying something about “it was about time!” but he didn’t really have a chance to focus because he suddenly found himself being fondled by a gang of very enthusiastic women all wearing braids. But they weren’t apprentices! “Who are you?” he gasped as one ran her hands down his chest. “Oh, we’re your fan club,that’s all! We’ve seen you around the Temple and decided you were the sexiest, handsomest, hottest thing this side of the galactic core!” said one. “By the way, my name is Emmy.” She pointed at several others. “That’s Judy, there’s Monica...don’t worry about the whip, she won’t hurt you, much...and that’s Julia and Sereramie, and Alisa, and Pixie, and....” the names went on and on...

Obi-Wan found himself helpless against the onslaught and suddenly not caring about the state of the apartment, who was there, or anything else but these women. They were here for him and him alone! Kisses were being rained all over his face and hands were tugging on his clothes. He heard a voice, the one with the whip, he realized, ordering people out of his bedroom. “I don’t want to have to use this on anyone but him!” she yelled. He felt something cold on his skin and looked down to see one of the girls putting a liquidy substance than sparkled all over his chest. Another was tending his back, others his legs. A ticklish spot was hit and suddenly he collapsed in laughter on the bed...

*********

“Qui-Gon, I wish I had your diplomatic skills. How you managed to get us out of there, I’ll never know,” said Master Pons as he and Qui-Gon walked down the corridor to their quarters.

“Well, the Supreme Chancellor owes me a favor.” That was all the explanation Qui-Gon was willing to give. He could hear a loud thumping noise coming in the direction of his quarters. He reached out with the Force for Obi-Wan, but the connection was very weak. What was his padawan up to? He glanced down at Pons. “Do you know where your padawan is?”

“Traz? He’s supposed to be in our quarters meditating. The last time I left him alone, he snuck out and nearly got himself arrested. The Council was not pleased, nor was I. He’s always been headstrong, but sometimes...you know, he and Obi-Wan were friends at the academy.” A frightening thought took hold of Pons. He looked up at Qui-Gon suddenly. “You don’t think...?”

“No, I know.” Qui-Gon sighed. His own apprentice was headstrong, but should have known better. They were throwing a party. The closer to his quarters he got, the louder the sound was. It was music, or what Obi-Wan considered music. Qui-Gon considered it loud noise.

Reaching the door, Qui-Gon took a deep breath and prepared himself...

...Well, whatever he had prepared himself for, it wasn’t for the sight that greeted him. The place was destroyed. Furniture overturned, food everywhere, and his plants!! By the Force, his plants!! “Where is he?” he growled under his breath as he scoured the room for his padawan.

He heard Pons gasp and tug on his sleeve. “Look!”

Qui-Gon shook his head. He should have known. “Well, Mace, somehow you always manage to find the loudest, wildest party. How do you do it?” Qui-Gon strode up behind Mace. The women took one look at the imposing Jedi, his angry glare, and scurried out. Mace leaned his head back to grin up at Qui-Gon. “Oh, Qui-Gon, I was just helping Obi-Wan learn a very important lesson about throwing parties in one’s quarters. They always get out of control and you never know who’s going to show up.”

“Yeah, and you’re full of it.” Qui-Gon snorted. “What did you do with my padawan, anyway?”

“I think he’s being well-entertained,” Mace grinned. “Don’t worry about the boy. He was a nervous wreck when I arrived. He was ready to accept full responsibility for everything, but somehow I don’t think he was the instigator.” With that, Mace nodded towards Traz who was in the process of being chewed out by his Master.

Qui-Gon’s arrival had been the proverbial cold water in the face for the rest of revelers and everyone had quickly filed, staggered ,or been dragged out. Now it was just the Jedi Masters and one downcast padawan. But where was Obi-Wan? A chorus of giggles emanated from his bedroom, then a masculine laugh. “No, no, not there!” Another laugh.

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. Hmm...time to make his padawan squirm. He marched over and opened the bedroom door. Crossing his arms, he put on his best “you will pay for you’ve done” look and glared. It was hard to keep from laughing at the sight of his padawan who lay sprawled on the bed nearly naked covered from head to toe in some glittery substance and surrounded by giggling women.

Obi-Wan’s look of abject horror upon seeing his master almost sent Qui-Gon over the edge. Struggling to keep his amusement out of his eyes, he turned his sternest look on the women. “If you ladies would excuse us, I think my padawan owes me an explanation for what has happened here.”

Instead of fleeing immediately as he thought they would, Qui-Gon was surprised when they all turned to Obi-Wan and began cooing “It’ll be all right...If he’s mean to you, we’ll make it better...He’s just a big ol’ grouch...You are sooo cute!....Next time, chocolate!”

Obi-Wan smiled up at them. “Thank you all so much for a delightful evening. I’ll be in touch, I promise.” With that, he blew a kiss to each one. Sighing, the women reluctantly left.

Qui-Gon kept his expression hard. “Obi-Wan!”

“Yes, my Master?” Obi-Wan snapped back to attention which was kind of hard considering the state of undress and disarray he was in.

“Get cleaned up, then we’ll talk!”

“Yes, sir.”

Only after he could hear water running did Qui-Gon break down in laughter. He was laughing so hard, his stomach began to hurt. Mace came over to see what was wrong. Qui-Gon never laughed like that. “Hey pal, are you okay?”

“Glitter!” Qui-Gon hooted. “He was covered in glitter! Takes you back, doesn’t it, my friend?”

“Oh, don’t even go there! That stuff took forever to clean off.”

“I believe I told you that whipped cream worked just as well but wasn’t quite so..umm..uncomfortable afterwards.”

Mace rolled his eyes. “Know-it-all.” Then he smiled. “Well, somehow I doubt Obi-Wan will be deterred though.”

“I have to agree with you on that one. It seems my padawan has a wild streak after all.”

“Kinda makes you proud doesn’t it?”

“Absolutely, but he doesn’t have to know that!” Qui-Gon chuckled.

“Master?” Obi-Wan poked his head around his bedroom door. He still had some glitter shining in his hair and a streak down one cheek.

“I think I’ll leave you to deal with your padawan,” said Mace stifling a laugh. “Nice party, Obi-Wan!”

“Obi-Wan, come here!” Qui-Gon put on his stern voice again. “We need to have a little talk...”

Obi-Wan steeled himself. He was dead.

“I just want to know one thing. What the hell happened to my plants?”

THE END