Darth Maul and the Temple Benefit
--Follow up to Darth Maul Versus the Fireworks
By Teza--The first solo venture without Kaelia
teza@crosswinds.net

Disclaimer: Lucasfilms owns them, I just play with them...

Clad in his "Love my Lightsaber" boxers, Maul stood on his balcony, reveling in the scene before him. The work to repair the Jedi Temple still continued after that fateful night when the Missiles of Death fell from the sky. Maul felt his lips curve upwards in an evil grin--he did that. He was Hot Shit.

A soft sliding noise off to his left sent him into Auto-Defense stance, one hand reaching for his lightsaber, instead coming up with a can of Pete's Wicked Ale.

"Oh, thank you neighbor!" Obi-Wan said, leaning over to pluck the beer from Maul's now-nerveless fingers. Nerveless for a simple reason--Obi-Wan stood, clad only in a pair of rather revealing shorts. For the same reason, Maul's gaze was not nerveless. Obi-Wan noticed the direction of Maul's gaze, and that Sithly side of the Jedi's mind prompted him to take a slow, easy walk away from Maul lean against the other side of his balcony, supposedly to survey the damage.

Damn him.

Maul quickly regained his thoughts, the insidious side of his mind that so reveled in his neighbor's attire pummeled into submission. "Nice outfit," Maul sneered, reaching for another beer. "Lose all your clothes or something?"

The Padawan turned, lower lip set trembling by something Maul said. As a tear worked its way down his cheek, Obi-Wan sniffed and softly murmured, "Yes." Standing as close to Maul as the distance between their balconies would allow, he indicated the Temple with a hand. "I had most of my clothes there for an upcoming course on the differences with Beige and Taupe. All that I have left here are the outfits I wear to the Gray Side, one robe just a bit too blue to be Jedi, and what I'm wearing now."

Maul edged away, his baleful gaze sweeping the area, sure someone was Whammying him. Why else would he want to climb over the balcony rail, and see just what clothes his neighbor had left?

Somewhere, Sidious cackled.

"Pity." Maul's thoughts were hastily yanked back onto the proper course, despite lust being a Sithly emotion. "If you have no Jedi clothes, how can you be a Jedi?"

Horror and disbelief warred on Obi-Wan's face as Maul reveled in both the power a few words hold over the simple and the waves of emotion cascading from his neighbor. The confusion died down as the twit seemed to arrive at a conclusion. "I am a Jedi, just a Jedi without clothes." A trace of Jedi pride crept over the Padawan's features. "Master Yoda always says we are than just what we appear. Or, something like that--I think." Confusion appeared yet again on the Jedi's face. "You can never be quite sure what he's saying, sometimes."

Maul snickered, popping the top open on his can of beer, the noise prompting Obi-Wan to do the same. Cruelly, Maul raised his can in a toast: "To the Temple!"

The true meaning behind the toast slid right off of Obi-Wan, who instead seemed to think Maul sincere, and caring. "Thanks," he said softly, raising his own can in return. "To the Temple," he said, his gaze smoldering beneath veiling lashes.

"It's Saturday," Maul hissed, causing the Padawan to pout and return to his apartment to plot strategy. Yanking his gaze away from Obi-Wan's retreating...form, he cocked his head at the sound of his door slamming open from his apartment. Sliding the balcony door open, Maul stepped inside. "Yes, Master?"

Sidious stood in Palpatine guise, the full spectrum of colors warring in a Sithly manner upon his brocaded tunic--and leather pants? "Maul," the Senator began with sadistic cheer. "Your efforts have boosted my campaign. One of my supporters, lured to my side by a Palpatine Pleases button--"

And a Whammy, undoubtedly of both kinds, Maul sneered to himself.

"--is hosting a benefit for the Jedi Temple Fund. While I wouldn't normally support such a cause, many of Coruscant's influential will be there. And," the Sith Lord in satin added, "it is being held in my honor." Maul's Master's eyes glittered in unholy glee. "Think of the air time this will bring me. For that, I can overlook how many Jedi are coming."

Jedi? Maul's glance immediately slid past his Master to the wall adjacent to Obi-Wan's apartment. Sidious noted it and cackled, but said nothing. Maul suppressed the part of him that sighed in disappointment; Obi-Wan must not be coming.

Maul ground his teeth even as his master continued, the noise obliterating the not-so-feeble man's chatter. Maul caught only the end: "...theme was either going to be leather or drugs, but the Jedi wouldn't go for drugs so it's just drug inspired decor--clothes in leather of course."

Damn him. Maul thought back over what his Master had said, piecing together that it was going to have been a costume party, but half the Jedi didn't have any clothes for such a thing. Interestingly enough, most of them had leather clothing. The rest of them owned things that were "drug inspired," whatever that meant.

"So, Maul," Palpatine said, grinding to a close, "Qui-Gon and I will swing by at 7 to pick up you and--"

If only looks could kill. Maul shot his Master a look guaranteed to inflict Certain Death upon a mortal, knowing where this was going; Palpatine only smirked. "Did I forget to tell you your neighbor is your escort?"

True, a part of Maul already plotted how many drinks it would take on a Saturday, but the rest of Maul just growled.

***

Music blared from hidden speakers, the throbbing pulse vaguely reminiscent of something Maul truly didn't care to think about with a leather-clad Obi-Wan at his side. The Sith glanced about, carefully ignoring his neighbor--one glance at Obi-Wan in leather and he knew it'd be moot whether it was Friday or not, and screw the alcohol. A Wookiee bore clothes of Ewok design next to a Rodian dressed up as Yoda. A gawky teen boy sported clothes ala Kessel Spice Girls, while Yoda, of course, was resplendent in corset and fishnets. Everything in the room was leather. Some wore masks and costumes, while others just wore their leather.

Maul noted one particular mask that stood out above the rest, a garishly designed red and black thing strapped over one of the taller members' head. Creeping out from below were tendrils of gray hair. Maul snorted, a bit amused but definitely not flattered. Qui-Gon appeared to be dressed as him.

Then Maul's gaze fell on a familiar rainbow colored tunic, the face of the wearer obscured by a vibrant pink feather boa. The man with the boa walked up to Qui-Gon, and the pair began to dance in a way more suitable to Twi'leks. It was Sidious, in Palpatine wear of course, but still. Why was he returning to that Jedi after....

"Can we get something to drink, Maul?" Obi-Wan said from Maul's side. Behind a mask of black, with a truly Sithly face etched onto it, Obi-Wan seemed somewhat more loose than he usually was. "I'm really thirsty," he continued throatily, inviting Maul to see what else he was costumed in by his voice.

Maul resisted, not wanting to tempt Fate. Every time Obi-Wan wore leather, something happened. Instead, Maul silently went to the bar, gathered the strongest drinks he could get, and returned, face averted. He had nearly succeeded, when a gentle shove of the force to his shoulder turned his body to the right, and his face and eyes to Obi-Wan.

Shit.

Someone had taught him how to dress. A somewhat loose shirt--at least compared with the rest--of deep sapphire hugged Obi-Wan's torso. Rather than the traditional button-up, or even more of T-shirt, it seemed to be some kind of wrap-around; wrapped as it was, it exposed a good deal of Obi-Wan's muscular chest. Unwillingly, Maul's gaze traveled downwards to leather pants banned in half a dozen sectors. Shadow hugged every curve of Obi-Wan's leg and hip, and Maul felt something in his brain begin to fizz.

Shit.

"Do you like it?" Obi-Wan nearly purred as he did a slow spin, sending that part of Maul's brain fizzling further. "My sister helped me pick something to wear."

That explains it, Maul thought, dragging his gaze back up to Obi-Wan's face. And oh, those eyes--there was definitely a woman's touch to the outfit, the hue of the shirt bringing out the color in his not-so-twitty-in-that-outfit of a neighbor's eyes. "It's... not bad." Suddenly, Maul was aware of how Obi-Wan "admired" his own clothing, chosen by that sadistic prick, Sidious. Awkwardly, Maul shifted, the black leather vest and matching pants much to tight, the red shirt sweltering.

"Well, Maul," Palpatine crowed, breaking the tense moment with his hated voice. "I hope you are enjoying yourself. I sure am," the apparently drunk Senator added, teasing Qui-Gon's beard with the end of his boa. Beside him, Maul felt a spike of jealously that, for an instant, sent him reeling.

"Don't wait up for me," his Master added, drifting away to sidle up next to yet another person dressed up in red and black, with a red and black mask.

"Why do you think he keeps going for guys looking like you, Maul?" Obi-Wan voiced heedlessly. The thought penetrated the haze Obi-Wan's outfit had worked on Maul's brain, and Maul twitched. "You'd think he had something for you, or something. I mean, look at the way he's fondling Qui-Gon's horns."

That was it. Maul grabbed the drink he had brought Obi-Wan as he downed the one he got for himself. When he finished the first, the second followed.

"Are you sure you should have done that, Maul?" his neighbor asked, eyes wide. "Those were Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters. I don't know anyone who can drink two. Your being able to drink one is impressive enough."

BOOM.

Something hit Maul both in the head and in the gut with the intensity of an Exploding Missile of Death, knocking Obi-Wan's words right out of his head. What the hell did Obi-Wan say he had just downed?

"Maulie," he heard Obi-Wan say, interestingly enough not perky at all. Raising his eyes from the floor, Maul rested them on Obi-Wan--and immediately knew Obi-Wan had plotted earlier, and the outfit was the plotting's presentation.

Eyes bright with concern--and something else--Obi-Wan approached Maul, his outfit reworking its own kind of Whammy on Maul, attraction only heightened by alcohol. Dimly Maul heard, "I'll help you home. As your escort, I'm designated driver."

***

Obi-Wan kept an arm wrapped around Maul as he fumbled about for the keys to his apartment. So intent was he on opening the door without dropping Maul, he didn't notice that the door was already open. When he leaned against, it opened without a creek.

And there, before both Maul and Obi-Wan, was a sight horrible enough to send Obi-Wan briefly seeking the Dark Side and the turn Maul sober; it was Palpatine and Qui-Gon, engaged in some of the more unique Jedi training techniques. Without a word, the pair stumbled out, the door shutting behind them without a pause from the Masters.

"By all the fleas on Kashyyk," Obi-Wan groaned, sliding down weakly onto Maul's coach, the now sober Maul following a fraction of a second behind. "I never want to see something like that again." The thought after it came through loud and clear for Maul, It sent me too close to the Dark Side. Indeed it had, for even Maul was amazed by the wash of disgust, jealousy, rage, and hatred the sight had inspired in his normally serene neighbor. One day, Maul would convert him.

"By Darth Lara's amazing proportions," was Maul's curse, floating two cans of Pete's Wicked Ale out of the fridge and into their hands. Obi-Wan was too stunned by the earlier freak show to notice. "You Jedi are just too odd."

Obi-Wan raised those hands that always seemed too fragile for their real strength, warding of Maul's words. "Don't blame me. That was your friend," the Jedi began.

"And your father," Maul sneered. Obi-Wan blanched, and simultaneously the pair opened the cans of beer and downed half of a can in one gulp.

"Sex tonight?" Obi-Wan asked, half hopeful.

"After that?"

"I guess not." Silence reigned supreme yet again, then Obi-Wan added, "But can I sleep here tonight, on the couch if nothing else?" He nodded back over his shoulder towards where the noises still came through far to clear. "I don't want to go back there for a while."

Maul nodded slightly, giving Obi-Wan the Coach-OK as his thoughts went wandering. True, sleeping with Obi-Wan wouldn't solve anything or make the noises next door go away, but it might be enough of a distraction. Besides, Maul knew, with no small amount of pride, that they could out-noise the older pair. Anyway, everyone else was going to assume they had sex, having left the benefit together.

"To Hell with it," Maul growled, finishing the last of the Pete's Wicked Ale in yet another long drink, then crushing the can and tossing it aside. He turned and pressed Obi-Wan into the couch as the others eyes smoldered up at him. One long kiss, sufficiently spiced with a hint of the Dark Force that, Maul noted with no small surprise, came from both sides, lead to the quick removal of clothes--tantalizing, yes, but no longer necessary--and the arrival of the two on Maul's bed. In no short time, the pair proceeded to make enough noise to overcome that coming from next door.

***

"NOOOOOOOOO!!!" Maul heard from next door, startling him awake. What the hell, was that Palpatine?

Out of some morbid sense of curiosity, Maul sent his thoughts outward, focusing a spear of the Force next door. Finding what he needed, Maul retreated and settled back against Obi-Wan with a feral grin. Sidious was feeling the Light. Where he, Maul, was working to slowly turn Obi-Wan to the Dark Side, Sidious was already suffering from Qui-Gon's influence; his Master was thinking less blackly and more grayly. A seething wave of thoughts along the lines of "Damn him." simmered from Obi-Wan's apartment. Maul smirked evilly.

This was a victory far beyond any he could've dreamed, the gradual weakening of his Master's powers. The day would come, soon, when he would strike his Master down. Something inside prompted Maul to turn on the TV.

"...Entertainment news, Senator Palpatine has been seen with Jedi Qui-Gon Jinn. Already rumors float about the attachments between these two. They were seen at last nights benefit for the Jedi Temple fund, which brought in nearly half a million credits. The benefit was declared a success, although rumors now hound that half of the funding has gone missing," the lady on screen chattered inanely. "Also, work on the Temple has been delayed by odd accident..."

Any similarity between Master's situation and Maul's earlier one with Obi-Wan was ignored. Drunken Force sex was followed, inexplicably, by more of it every time you ran into the other, soon followed by public recognition of the pair as an item. The universe was laughing.

Maul switched off the TV and pushed back the sheet to glance out the window, pausing on the way to gloat over the credits he had managed to steal from the fund--not half of, but a good size. As he looked outside, Maul noted My Apprentice's smugness. A question on his part prompted the reply, The kittens were taking a break from the Senate to visit the Temple.

That explained that. Maul gloated once more over the destruction he had caused; destruction that, with the spawn of My Apprentice's help, would take a very long to be repaired.

A good day, and Maul had learned the value of dressing a certain way.

END

(7/20/99)

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