Mutual Feelings

A Holo-Call from Obi-Wan

"She doesn't exactly publicize what she does in her spare time, Master." Anakin replied. It was true. As far as he knew, she was currently volunteering at a charity supporting those clones who were no longer able to fight, and trying to ensure that "defective units" we're treated as sentient beings, rather than organic droids.

"Well, when you're not busy, I'd like to catch up with you." Obi-wan said.

"I'd like that as well, Master." Once I've figured out how to solve the problem with Snips.

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, before Obi-wan signed off, his visit arranged for next taungsday.

Now all Anakin had to do was to make sure he wasn't going to be breaking the Code in the meantime. That was going to be the challenging part of the next few days.

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Once the water started to flow over her, Ahsoka began to think a little more about what had happened.

I slept with my Master. It was a rather cold way of considering it

We were drunk. He'd had more than me. Not by mass, I suspect, but I guess he wouldn't have been thinking... right. The realisation of her actions shocked her slightly. I don't know if he'd have gone as far as that, if he hadn't been squiffy. I've seen him looking, of course, but I've seen half of Torrent checking me out as well. And I didn't go to bed with any of them. It wouldn't have been the same.

The cleansigel she normally used was half empty, she noted, as she squeezed out a palmful of the fluid, which was perfumed with what, to a Togruta nose, was one of the most appetizing aromas in the galaxy; fried nerf-bacon. It wasn't pronounced, compared to some of the gels designed for other humanoid species, but it always gave her a sense of well-being, pleasure, and relaxation, and didn't fail to do so as she massaged it into her skin, which had a rather different set of connotations than the day before.

As she rubbed it into her breasts, she realised that they felt sore, bruised, as if they'd been repeatedly squeezed. It was an odd feeling. We actually did... She thought, remembering some sensations through the haze of mandolorian ale induced amnesia. I slept with my Master. Oh force. It wasn't so much that she hadn't wanted to, it was the fact that she'd done so while drunk. She'd imagined a moonlit alderaanian terrace, overlooking the Glarus valley, glasses of champagne, and sweet nothings in her ear.

Instead, she'd had a drink-fuelled night of sex, no more meaningful, in the grand sense, than being bent over a trash-recycler, having her pants pulled down, and spending five minutes being pleasured, in what would be nothing more than a transaction. And she could barely remember anything. She had a bunch of sensations, a couple of images, and a whole bunch of sore muscles.

And I don't think he's going to have all that much respect for my decision making. Not after that. It's almost worse than when I was the only member of Clawmouse to go with that man... It was a test, but if it hadn't been... It was an old shame. The Order had been doing a "stranger-danger" awareness session for the younglings, and she'd been one of the handful of younglings who ended up in the back of a speeder, with a man they'd never met before, and a blaster pointed at them to force them to handcuff themselves.

Once the cuffs had been on, and the situation had had a few moments to sink in, the speeder had landed, and Master Yoda had started to lecture her about her stupidity. She'd burst into tears. It hadn't won her any sympathy, and she'd spent the next week confined to the temple, writing an essay on what she'd done and why it was stupid. Yoda had simply handed her a set of tools, and told her to get the cuffs off herself, as an extra punishment. It'd taken her hours to successfully pick the lock, even though it was one of the simplest on the market, and the fluffy cover hadn't been even removed from the restraints.