Title: Ka Faraq Gatri (Follows 'Bringer of Darkness')
Categories: Kind of het, with a side serving Slashiness. Ooh, angst.
Summary: Obi-Wan's night.
Disclaim: George Lucas owns the Jedi.
Etc: What Obi-Wan got up to during 'Bringer of Darkness'.
Biscuits to anyone who gets the title.
_ stands in for italics.
Homepage: Tempt fate at http://www.angelfire.com/scifi/monkeychild/nostalgia/index.htm
Feedback/Archive: Whatever sinks your starship. (Huh?)
Ka Faraq Gatri was a nightmare of mirrors and pink neon. Legend had it that the original architect - a man of awards and esteem - had thrown himself from the highest window upon discovering that the interior of the club had been aligned west-to-east rather than east- to-west. His replacement, paid over the odds to compensate for the prevalent belief that the building was now cursed, had been expelled from the Architect's Guild for bringing the profession into ill- repute. Ka Faraq Gatri had history.
It contrived to be exclusive, in that strange, Lower Levels meaning of the word. The management used words like 'clienetele' and 'corporate image', but then most people did, these days. 'Sleazy' was the word others used to describe "That Place".
The bar - a thick, blue, thermoset monstrosity - was an 'o' in the centre of the room. With eight hundred and thirty-seven forms of alcohol (most of them legal) available, Ka Faraq Gatri could rival the very best. Obi-Wan Kenobi was determined to get drunk as quickly and as cheaply as possible. Tonight he dressed in civilian clothing and paid in unmarked currency. _A Jedi walked into a bar and..._ he tensed a little at the joke in case it was a warning, but no one said anything to him, and he felt himself begin to relax. The smoke in the air burned the back of his throat when he breathed, and the music was too loud, but he could cope with these. He needed distractions.
After the second drink he had stopped worrying about what would happen if Anakin woke up and realised he was missing.
Halfway through the third he started to admire the decor. It wasn't that bad really, he mused, once you got used to it. He slid his fingers back and forth along the edge of the bar, spun a little on the barstool, which shook as his weight shifted on it.
He remembered coming here with Qui-Gon on his nineteenth birthday and and throwing up outside as the alcohol churned in his bloodstream. He remembered screaming and swearing and crying and wishing he was dead. That wasn't going to happen to Anakin. Obi-Wan wasn't going to be lectured about giving his Padawan alcohol poisoning. He was going to be responsible and trustworthy. He was going to be a role-model. Just not tonight.
He remembered sitting at one of the tables in the corner, a semi- expensive prostitute draping herself over him because Qui-Gon thought that was a good way to teach his Apprentice about sex. He remembered the perfume and the warmth and the blushes. He wasn't going to do something like that to Anakin. Anakin wasn't supposed to be cheapened like that. You couldn't just leave the Chosen One at the mercy of some whore in Ka Faraq Gatri. Anakin was too good for that. He was delicate and vulnerable and beautiful and... Drink. Now. He reached for the nearest distraction.
She was cheaper than the last one, a little younger. She was laughing and she had nice eyes and she didn't look too much like Anakin. _A Jedi walked into a bar and..._ Obi-Wan laughed and let her lead him to a back room, stumbling a little as he tried not to bump into too many people. He leaned against the wall as she unlocked the door, trying to tell her a joke about a priest and an astromech droid. He got lost halfway to the punchline, but she giggled anyway and pulled him through the doorway and onto the bed.
It was still dark when he felt distracted enough leave. He stepped around the puddles that had formed outside the bar while he had been inside and out of the rain. He looked down at his own reflection in one of them, saw the bright pink letters glowing above and behind him. The sign fizzed over his head and another one of the vowels went dark. They should fix that, he thought absently, and headed home.
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