More crack!fic.
You should read Part 1 first, or this won’t make any sense.
“It’s horribly cliché,” he said with resignation bowing his head. “But I hear that amnesia works well in these situations.”
TITLE: Between Space & Time
RATING: R - because Ewan likes to cuss
PAIRING: nothing yet, will end up (eventually) Ewan/Anakin
Author: Melanie
DISCLAIMER: Heh, I own nothing. Ewan owns himself as does anybody else that is a real person in real life. George Lucas owns everyone that that is property of Star Wars. I make no money off of them. Don’t sue.
Between Space & Time – Part 2
He’d handled the lightsaber with delicate hands. Half because he was afraid George would leap out of nowhere and yell April Fools (even though it was nowhere near April and George had strictly forbidden anyone from performing jokes on his live set.)
The other half of him was afraid he’d drop the damn thing and set his bed (with him in it) on fire or cut off his own arm. The last one would be just his luck.
He put the lightsaber back on the little metal table and curled an arm around his pillow. Maybe if he went to sleep he’d wake up on his couch, hopefully not drooling but at this exact moment he wouldn’t even care if he was.
******************************************************************************
He woke to voices outside his room, he was not on his couch but still in the uncomfortable bed and his spine felt like it had already lodged a formal complaint and was now on strike.
He stretched and yawned and felt a gratifying relief from the pressure on his spine.
“Chancellor Palpatine,” Yoda’s voice rang loudly through the door. “Honored we are that you have come to see Master Kenobi.”
Ewan felt his breath hitch and felt anything but honored. Scared, terrified, very, very worried about his continued sanity.
And Chancellor Palpatine, which meant after the first movie and sometime between the second and third. Which he’d kind of already figured out with Anakin looking more like jailbait than a ten year-old.
“I just wanted to see for myself that Master Kenobi was in good health. He did save my life from a fate worse than death, with young Skywalker’s assistance of course,” the Chancellor’s smooth tones wafted through the still closed door.
He looked for a window to jump out of and found no way out. And also, fuck.
Sometime in the third movie then. Which meant a huge fight with Anakin in which he would get his ass handed to him on a silver platter.
And possibly die. Because sometime soon Anakin Skywalker would go evil and then go murderous and then Ewan would die and really didn’t want to die.
Maybe he could pray a lot and just ask Anakin not to kill him?
He wanted to pace, he wanted to scream. He wanted to be on his fucking couch calling Jude a prat and watching his illegally purchased copy of Revenge of The Sith.
He really didn’t want the door to be opening and Yoda to be hobbling in followed closely by Chancellor Palpatine (also known as the Emperor) and Anakin.
“Master Kenobi,” the Chancellor nodded at him, a truly fake smile plastered on his face. Ewan felt the same shiver that he’d felt the previous night when Yoda had been searching his soul.
He knew of no way to keep the other man from doing whatever it was that he was doing. He wasn’t a Jedi Knight; he only played one on TV.
From the frown that was now attempting to crease his face Ewan figured that Palpatine hadn’t found exactly what he was looking for.
He wondered what the Chancellor would do if he leapt out of his bed and yelled ‘this is the Sith Master that you’ve been searching for. Hide Anakin because he’ll turn him to the Dark Side and they’ll kill us all.’
He’d probably kill him. And make it look like an accident and since he really didn’t want to die he bit his tongue.
“Chancellor Palpatine,” he inclined his head briefly and fought the urge to scratch his chin.
Damn beard anyway.
Palpatine narrowed his eyes and Ewan felt that shiver again. It made him wonder if he was Force-sensitive in this fucked up version of George’s movie reality.
“Your voice sounds different.”
“I’ve a bit of a cold,” Ewan said with an easy smile. He cleared his throat and forced himself to remember that Obi-Wan Kenobi didn’t talk with a Scottish brogue. Somehow he was English.
Hayden, Ewan shook his head and corrected himself. Anakin shot an accusatory glare at Yoda.
“I told you the room was to cold.”
Ewan blinked and thought Yoda might have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t a puppet and if Palpatine hadn’t been standing right there.
“The temperature of the room, within tolerable limits, it is. Master Kenobi, no shrinking violet, is he.”
Ewan didn’t snort, but only just barely.
“But listen to him, the Chancellor is right,” a glance out of the corner of his eye showed Palpatine all but smirking in response. “He sounds weird, and he’s been acting strangely ever since he woke up. You should have let me take him back to our room,” Anakin was working himself into a right snit and Ewan wondered when he’d become such an overprotective mother hen.
Because that surely wasn’t the route that Hayden had taken in the movies.
Petulance and anger and, well, annoying teen-ager stuff was how Hayden had played it.
Yoda raised a hand to cut Anakin off but it was Palpatine who spoke first.
“I have a committee meeting shortly,” he started.
“I’ll walk out with you Chancellor,” and from the look that Anakin shot him Ewan was almost sure he was going to stop a medi-droid and have the room warmed up to what he considered a suitable temperature.
Ewan watched them leave, scowling at the hand that Palpatine rested on Anakin’s shoulder.
“Know something of Chancellor Palpatine you do,” Yoda observed and Ewan froze.
He considered his options carefully, maybe he would have been better off yelling ‘Sith Lord, Sith Lord’ while he had a roomful of witnesses, because if Palpatine had any inkling that Ewan knew his other identity he’d be dead before Anakin even had a chance to turn to the Dark Side and kill him.
“He’s not what he appears,” he finally said and he stared at Yoda and forcibly thought ‘Sith Lord, Sith Lord’ at him.
“Chance to protect your Padawan you have with this knowledge you have gained.”
Ewan snorted. “I’m not your Obi-Wan Kenobi dude. I’m not a Jedi Master or a Knight or a General or any of that shit that you expect from him. I’m an actor not a fighter,” he tossed his head dramatically and crossed his arms over his chest.
Then realized that he’d just called Yoda ‘dude’ and cursed numerous times in front of him.
“You are him and he is you. It is all the same.”
“So what? Does this mean that he’s sitting on my couch drinking tea contemplating the universe?”
“Know this I do not. But a choice you have and one that is most important.”
“I choose not to die, and if I stay here there’s an almost, no there is a 100% chance that I’ll be dead before I figure out what the hell is going on.”
“And Young Skywalker what would you have done about him? He is your Padawan, your Apprentice.”
“And he can kick my ass thoroughly,” Ewan stated decisively.
“Underestimate yourself you do. Inside you Master Kenobi resides still.”
Ewan snorted again. “So what you’re saying is that deep inside me there’s a Jedi Master just itching to break free.”
“Joke you do, serious I am.”
“Look I’m sorry I’ve sent your Obi-Wan off into the wild blue yonder, but you’ve got to realize that this wasn’t an even swap. I don’t know the first thing about being a Jedi Master.”
Except he did. Because he’d played one in three films and he still remembered the lines and the moves and the protocol that George had all but beat into his head.
And Yoda knew all that obviously, because he was staring at him with expressive eyes that said ‘see you finally do’.
“It’s horribly cliché,” he said with resignation bowing his head. “But I hear that amnesia works well in these situations.”
******************************************************************************
Coming soon: Part 3
”Can I get anything for you Master?” Anakin, eyes wide waited on his answer, prepared to run out and get him anything he wanted. It was oddly like being Hollywood.
He ran a hand over his chin.
“How ‘bout a razor.”
When he looked up he noticed that Anakin looked properly horrified.
He hadn’t realized the beard was such an important social status thing to the Jedi. He’d thought George had been blowing smoke up his ass and had made him grow it because he looked younger than Hayden without it.
You should read Part 1 first, or this won’t make any sense.
“It’s horribly cliché,” he said with resignation bowing his head. “But I hear that amnesia works well in these situations.”
TITLE: Between Space & Time
RATING: R - because Ewan likes to cuss
PAIRING: nothing yet, will end up (eventually) Ewan/Anakin
Author: Melanie
DISCLAIMER: Heh, I own nothing. Ewan owns himself as does anybody else that is a real person in real life. George Lucas owns everyone that that is property of Star Wars. I make no money off of them. Don’t sue.
Between Space & Time – Part 2
He’d handled the lightsaber with delicate hands. Half because he was afraid George would leap out of nowhere and yell April Fools (even though it was nowhere near April and George had strictly forbidden anyone from performing jokes on his live set.)
The other half of him was afraid he’d drop the damn thing and set his bed (with him in it) on fire or cut off his own arm. The last one would be just his luck.
He put the lightsaber back on the little metal table and curled an arm around his pillow. Maybe if he went to sleep he’d wake up on his couch, hopefully not drooling but at this exact moment he wouldn’t even care if he was.
He woke to voices outside his room, he was not on his couch but still in the uncomfortable bed and his spine felt like it had already lodged a formal complaint and was now on strike.
He stretched and yawned and felt a gratifying relief from the pressure on his spine.
“Chancellor Palpatine,” Yoda’s voice rang loudly through the door. “Honored we are that you have come to see Master Kenobi.”
Ewan felt his breath hitch and felt anything but honored. Scared, terrified, very, very worried about his continued sanity.
And Chancellor Palpatine, which meant after the first movie and sometime between the second and third. Which he’d kind of already figured out with Anakin looking more like jailbait than a ten year-old.
“I just wanted to see for myself that Master Kenobi was in good health. He did save my life from a fate worse than death, with young Skywalker’s assistance of course,” the Chancellor’s smooth tones wafted through the still closed door.
He looked for a window to jump out of and found no way out. And also, fuck.
Sometime in the third movie then. Which meant a huge fight with Anakin in which he would get his ass handed to him on a silver platter.
And possibly die. Because sometime soon Anakin Skywalker would go evil and then go murderous and then Ewan would die and really didn’t want to die.
Maybe he could pray a lot and just ask Anakin not to kill him?
He wanted to pace, he wanted to scream. He wanted to be on his fucking couch calling Jude a prat and watching his illegally purchased copy of Revenge of The Sith.
He really didn’t want the door to be opening and Yoda to be hobbling in followed closely by Chancellor Palpatine (also known as the Emperor) and Anakin.
“Master Kenobi,” the Chancellor nodded at him, a truly fake smile plastered on his face. Ewan felt the same shiver that he’d felt the previous night when Yoda had been searching his soul.
He knew of no way to keep the other man from doing whatever it was that he was doing. He wasn’t a Jedi Knight; he only played one on TV.
From the frown that was now attempting to crease his face Ewan figured that Palpatine hadn’t found exactly what he was looking for.
He wondered what the Chancellor would do if he leapt out of his bed and yelled ‘this is the Sith Master that you’ve been searching for. Hide Anakin because he’ll turn him to the Dark Side and they’ll kill us all.’
He’d probably kill him. And make it look like an accident and since he really didn’t want to die he bit his tongue.
“Chancellor Palpatine,” he inclined his head briefly and fought the urge to scratch his chin.
Damn beard anyway.
Palpatine narrowed his eyes and Ewan felt that shiver again. It made him wonder if he was Force-sensitive in this fucked up version of George’s movie reality.
“Your voice sounds different.”
“I’ve a bit of a cold,” Ewan said with an easy smile. He cleared his throat and forced himself to remember that Obi-Wan Kenobi didn’t talk with a Scottish brogue. Somehow he was English.
Hayden, Ewan shook his head and corrected himself. Anakin shot an accusatory glare at Yoda.
“I told you the room was to cold.”
Ewan blinked and thought Yoda might have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t a puppet and if Palpatine hadn’t been standing right there.
“The temperature of the room, within tolerable limits, it is. Master Kenobi, no shrinking violet, is he.”
Ewan didn’t snort, but only just barely.
“But listen to him, the Chancellor is right,” a glance out of the corner of his eye showed Palpatine all but smirking in response. “He sounds weird, and he’s been acting strangely ever since he woke up. You should have let me take him back to our room,” Anakin was working himself into a right snit and Ewan wondered when he’d become such an overprotective mother hen.
Because that surely wasn’t the route that Hayden had taken in the movies.
Petulance and anger and, well, annoying teen-ager stuff was how Hayden had played it.
Yoda raised a hand to cut Anakin off but it was Palpatine who spoke first.
“I have a committee meeting shortly,” he started.
“I’ll walk out with you Chancellor,” and from the look that Anakin shot him Ewan was almost sure he was going to stop a medi-droid and have the room warmed up to what he considered a suitable temperature.
Ewan watched them leave, scowling at the hand that Palpatine rested on Anakin’s shoulder.
“Know something of Chancellor Palpatine you do,” Yoda observed and Ewan froze.
He considered his options carefully, maybe he would have been better off yelling ‘Sith Lord, Sith Lord’ while he had a roomful of witnesses, because if Palpatine had any inkling that Ewan knew his other identity he’d be dead before Anakin even had a chance to turn to the Dark Side and kill him.
“He’s not what he appears,” he finally said and he stared at Yoda and forcibly thought ‘Sith Lord, Sith Lord’ at him.
“Chance to protect your Padawan you have with this knowledge you have gained.”
Ewan snorted. “I’m not your Obi-Wan Kenobi dude. I’m not a Jedi Master or a Knight or a General or any of that shit that you expect from him. I’m an actor not a fighter,” he tossed his head dramatically and crossed his arms over his chest.
Then realized that he’d just called Yoda ‘dude’ and cursed numerous times in front of him.
“You are him and he is you. It is all the same.”
“So what? Does this mean that he’s sitting on my couch drinking tea contemplating the universe?”
“Know this I do not. But a choice you have and one that is most important.”
“I choose not to die, and if I stay here there’s an almost, no there is a 100% chance that I’ll be dead before I figure out what the hell is going on.”
“And Young Skywalker what would you have done about him? He is your Padawan, your Apprentice.”
“And he can kick my ass thoroughly,” Ewan stated decisively.
“Underestimate yourself you do. Inside you Master Kenobi resides still.”
Ewan snorted again. “So what you’re saying is that deep inside me there’s a Jedi Master just itching to break free.”
“Joke you do, serious I am.”
“Look I’m sorry I’ve sent your Obi-Wan off into the wild blue yonder, but you’ve got to realize that this wasn’t an even swap. I don’t know the first thing about being a Jedi Master.”
Except he did. Because he’d played one in three films and he still remembered the lines and the moves and the protocol that George had all but beat into his head.
And Yoda knew all that obviously, because he was staring at him with expressive eyes that said ‘see you finally do’.
“It’s horribly cliché,” he said with resignation bowing his head. “But I hear that amnesia works well in these situations.”
Coming soon: Part 3
”Can I get anything for you Master?” Anakin, eyes wide waited on his answer, prepared to run out and get him anything he wanted. It was oddly like being Hollywood.
He ran a hand over his chin.
“How ‘bout a razor.”
When he looked up he noticed that Anakin looked properly horrified.
He hadn’t realized the beard was such an important social status thing to the Jedi. He’d thought George had been blowing smoke up his ass and had made him grow it because he looked younger than Hayden without it.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-30 03:06 pm (UTC)this is so funny, just friended you just to be sure not missing any parts ;D