Disclaimers: Saint George (Lucasfilm) crated the Star Wars Universe. Lucasfilm owned by Disney. George Lucas created the Star Wars Universe. Movies by 20th Century Fox/Disney. I make no Republic Datari {Credits}, Peggats, Truguts, Wupiupi, etc from my fanfic/fanart/fanfunnies. Story written purely for enjoyment and the only profit I make is the happiness my writing brings. The Force is With You Always :)
Summary: Obi-Wan tries to get his Master to do something - for charity.
Rating M
Humour - Enjoy!
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FOR CHARITY ...
"Oh, come on, Master, it's for charity..."
"Absolutely not."
"Master, I thought you of all people would appreciate-"
"No, Obi-Wan. Do you want me to put my foot down?" His voice held a hint of a smile.
"I did."
"I forbid you to go ahead with it."
"You wouldn't!"
"I'm your Master."
Obi-Wan gave Qui-Gon a look.
"All right, I won't, Obi-Wan. I'm not going to dictate to you what you can and can not do, but I certainly am not going to."
"Please?"
"No."
"Pretty please?"
"No."
"With sugar?"
"No."
"With a cherry on top?"
"No and that's final."
"I'll add whipped cream."
Qui-Gon sighed.
"Come on, Master, I'll be fun."
"It's undignified and not what a Jedi should-"
"A Jedi shouldn't support needy charities?"
"That's not what I meant."
"In any case, Master, it's sensual ... Come on, let me show you."
"Obi-Wan..."
"Gods, you can be so stubborn. It's not going to kill you."
"No, but I might kill you."
Obi-Wan smiled. "Is that a yes?"
"I suppose it is."
"Master, you are the best."
"I said I would *look*"
"Well that's a start."
Qui-Gon gave a resigned sigh. //What have I gotten myself into this time?//
//Don't worry, Master, you'll live.//
The Jedi Master gave his Padawan a look, then sighed as
Obi-Wan dragged him to the professionally organised studio.
A small, slender young woman looked up. "Ohh, wonderful! You brought him!" She clapped her hands. "I'm DeLia," she said with a smile. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you."
Qui-Gon was tempted to flee, but that was undignified also.
Obi-Wan chuckled, opening a portfolio. "Master, these are the shots DeLia took of me yesterday."
Qui-Gon looked at various 8 X 10 photographs of Obi-Wan. One showed him lying down, semi nude, another showed him sitting. One showed a head shot with a tuft of hair delicately sitting over one eye, Obi-Wan held the braid, with a boyish smile.
Qui-Gon chuckled. "Not bad ... not bad at all, actually."
"Thanks," DeLia said. "I do my best, Mr Jinn."
"There, Master, you've got nothing to be afraid of."
He gave a wry smile and turned to DeLia. "Just Qui-Gon, and I haven't agreed to anything yet."
The other two life forms in the studio eyed him with such puppy dog eyes, his defence crumbled.
"Ohh, all right ... but only because it's for charity."
"Yay!" DeLia clapped. "Take your clothes off."
"What have I got myself into ..."
"It's all right, Master," Obi-Wan comforted. "I'm here."
"That makes me feel so much better."
Qui-Gon took off his boots, followed shirts and pants.
"Not too cold?"
Qui-Gon shook his head.
"Put this on," DeLia said, giving him a dark green satin robe.
Qui-Gon seemed relieved.
"Now go and lie over there."
The Jedi Master did as he was asked, or was that told ... and lay on a bed with purple satin sheets and rainbow cushions, a backdrop, of gentle pastel colours. DeLia fused over the robe, covering some parts of Qui-Gon's body and exposing others. She took the tie from his hair and ruffled it a little.
"Lie like this," she lay on the floor, one arm in front and the other with a fist against her face. The photographer then stood, and gently placed a few strands of hair over his cheek. Qui-Gon seemed mildly amused, but he wanted it over with.
"Patience, Master," Obi-Wan called.
Qui-Gon fixed him with an unamused stare, then he smiled and made himself comfortable and breathed slowly.
DeLia smiled. "You look fantastic. Don't move."
She rushed to her camera and stood behind it.
"Uhh, just move your head slightly downwards, move your legs back a hair ... and place your hand on top of your leg and spread your fingers out on the satin."
"Yes, Master."
The photographer and Padawan smiled.
DeLia looked through her camera. "Perfect. I can see why you're a Jedi Master."
Qui-Gon smiled slightly and Obi-Wan struggled not to laugh.
The Jedi Master lay on the deep purple satin bed, a robe of forest green gently touching his bare skin, his smooth chest exposed, the green satin barely touching his broad shoulders. Free, light ash brown hair cascading just beyond those shoulders, the soft satin robe winding like a river, lying ever so slightly on his legs, a dark, mysterious patch left entirely to the imagination ...
The camera clicked into action.
//How many pictures is she gonna take ...//
//Patience, Master...//
//Shut up, Obi-Wan.//
The young Jedi smiled as his Master shuffled ever so slightly.
"That's great," DeLia said. "But stop moving."
Obi-Wan chuckled.
//I'll make you do the dishes for a month, Padawan.//
"I know you're doing that Force thing," DeLia said.
"Sorry," Qui-Gon said, trying to stifle a smile.
The camera snapped more shots, of Qui-Gon, sitting, lying, standing...
"Now, take the robe off."
Qui-Gon swallowed. "Just when I thought it was safe ..."
Obi-Wan laughed evilly.
DeLia giggled, though like a true professional, didn't stare.
"Now, pose like 'The Thinker'," she said.
//Thank the Force ...// Qui-Gon breathed.
Obi-Wan burst out laughing.
//Obi-Wan, that's it ...//
//My turn was yesterday, Master.//
//And I was denied the privilege of gawking.//
"You were in a meeting with the Council."
//Don't remind me...//
"Concentrate," DeLia demanded.
The Two Jedi obeyed, but not without stifled smiles.
The photographer took a few more shots, before she was done for the day.
"Thanks, Guys," she said, "and don't worry, your dignity will remain in tact."
"Relieved to hear it," Qui-Gon said.
"Thank you, Boys ... you've been a great help ... This is gonna go through the roof..."
She kissed both of them on their cheeks.
"My pleasure," Qui-Gon said, "but only for charity."
DeLia gave a girlish smile as the two Jedi left, as she excitedly sorted out her photographs.
* * *
Darth Sidious sat in his quarters, perusing today's edition of the 'Coruscant Daily Journal.'
Maul entered the room.
"Do you have it?"
"Yes, Master, but why would you want such a-"
"Believe, me Maul, I do not want it, though it may provide some clue as to a weakness to the Jedi."
Sidious snatched the magazine from him. "Well what are you waiting for? Continue with your training."
"Yes, Master." He sincerely hoped that his Master didn't notice he'd pinched the pin-up of Obi-Wan ...
Sidious sat down and opened the magazine. "Definitely more interesting than the Coruscant Journal..." he muttered, and then his eyes fell upon the centrefold ... and he stared. "Damn you... *Damn you* ... I really hate to destroy beautiful things ..." He stared at the forest green stain. "Damn you, Jinn..."
* * *
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stood before Mace Windu.
"You know why I've called you both here."
"Yes," Obi-Wan said, somewhat uncomfortable.
"Neither of you cleared it with me."
"Begging your pardon, Master Windu," Obi-Wan said, "but we were unaware we had to."
"It was for charity," Qui-Gon interjected. "And all the shots are very tasteful ... And DeLia made millions of credits for multiple charities of the republic and beyond."
"Well that's still no excuse."
"Master Windu," Qui-Gon said, running out of excuses, "millions of lives were saved, saved from depression, suicide and millions gave up drugs and-"
"That's not what I meant."
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan gave the dark skinned Jedi a puzzled look.
Windu smiled. "Where's my copy?"
*
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