Title: Conference Call
Author: Laure
Rating: SMS (Self Mocking Silliness) or NINAP (No, I'm Not A Princess)
Disclaimer: Not mine, only I'm mine. GL can have the mediators below.
Distribution: Duh
Timeline: Before we leave for Alderaan, aka, now
Note: Pretty Mary Suish, as it's mostly centered on my character,
but everyone's in it and I hope it's just fun and silly.

"French fashions suck," Laure pronounced, tossing down the latest catalog from Paris in disgust.

Shana flipped quickly through the one in her hands and frowned in agreement. "Real people need to design these clothes. Two felt butterflies over your boobs does not a top make."

"Well, at least we're going to Alderaan tomorrow. We can shop there."

"Amidala buys all her clothes there."

Laure rolled her eyes at the implication and pondered taking up sewing.

As she reached for a handful of popcorn, Commo and Quintus entered the sitting room. Hands behind his back, Quintus nodded thoughtfully as Commo talked and gestured broadly with his hands.

"Where is this Springdale, Arkansas, great Caesar?"

"I don't know. Find it. I shall conquer it and enslave all those who spelled my title wrong."

"They are but children," Quintus tempered.

Commo's eyes narrowed. "One is never too young to learn or to pay."

"You're not taking over some podunk town in Arkansas," Laure spouted.

"My darling, they have slandered me," Commo pouted.

"And just who would be doing the taking over?" she pointed out.

Quintus flushed slightly, but Commo took on a belligerent look. "I know that with the proper motivation the men would follow me again."

"You'd have to kill Max first," Shana mentioned casually.

Laure hissed at her and made the 'cut it out' gesture. "Are you nuts?"

"Hm, kill Maximus...New plan, Quintus."

Quintus rolled his eyes and followed his emperor back out the door.

"Jael's gonna kill me." Groaning, Laure flopped her head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling.

"Like Commo's a threat to kill Max."

"He did it once before."

"Only because Max was alone and chained up and Commo stuck a dagger in him," Shana retorted, reaching for her margarita.

"Oh god, Commo's dead!"

"Goodie, more of you for me," Spike smirked from the doorway. He ducked the cushion Laure threw at his head. "Saw the imperial ponce muttering about raising an army. Does he know you spent all his money on shoes?"

"I didn't spend it *all* on shoes."

"Oh, right. You spent it on the tesseract shoe closet that cost a gazillion to design because they're not exactly feasible in this universe yet."

"Did you want something?" Laure snapped.

"A goodbye shag before I head back to Sunnyhell?"

"Not something I want to see," Shana said, gathering up a few of the catalogs. "I'm going to spend oodles of money on Italian leather goods."

"Have fun."

Shana left, pulling the door closed behind her, and Spike swooped down on the couch, spilling popcorn all over the place and making Laure squeal.

*****

Later, snoring vampire in her bed--and Laure rolled her eyes because how can a vampire who doesn't breath snore--Laure plunked down at her computer and opened up her email.

"Spam, spam, porn spam, Cal whine...trash, trash, trash..."

"Mediation Training Conference?" Opening the message, Laure blinked at the effusive offer. A participant had backed out at the last minute and she was being offered a place on a panel at a conference beginning in two hours at the Estrogen County Four Seasons. "Hm, comfort zones, negotiation theory, valuation and risk analysis. Y'know, I'm a bit rusty on some of this," she muttered to herself, then reached for the phone to call in her acceptance.

They weren't leaving for Alderaan till the next day, due to the need to pack most of their belongings to take along, so she could squeeze in some work-related networking, and maybe check out what the best mediators were wearing these days.

*****

Dressed for the first time in ages in office wear--a navy jacket and skirt and pale lavender silk blouse--Laure adjusted the seams on her stockings, then picked up her purse and briefcase and left her suite, descending the private staircase to her office. Sitting at her desk making paper clips chains, Kymira stared at her Master in surprise.

"Have another epiphany?"

"I'm going to a conference. I'll be back after the dinner."

Kymira frowned. "It's not on the calendar."

"I just got the notice today. Email must be fracked. It was dated four days ago. Check that out, will you?"

"Is the fanged one decent?"

Laure smirked and shook her head.

"Yeah, I'll get right on that boss," Kymira muttered, picking up her gameboy as her master swept past her.

Laure walked briskly down the hall and poked her head in Dande's office. The Wench was holding up chintz swatches to the light.

"What are those for?"

"Well, I'm hoping that with Dor's newfound love of nature and color she'll let me work on the window treatments in the Library."

"Well, you could just go ahead and do it. I don't think Dor's been near the Library in at least a week."

Dande grinned and held out a rather subtle burgundy swatch decorated with dark green ivy and cream flowers. "How about this one?"

"I like that. Very masculine yet feminine at the same time. Is that Colfax & Fowler?"

"No, it's from the William Morris line. I got a whole box full today."

"I love his stuff," Laure said, entering the room and peeking in the box Dande held out. "I'm looking to redo my bathroom. Any pretty blues?"

"Dozens."

"Unfortunately, I don't have time to look at them right now. I'm going to a Mediation Conference."

Dande set down the box and looked intrigued. "Are they all Wos?"

"You know, I have no clue. I've never actually been to one, but I'm feeling a bit...well, some things seem a bit over my head. I just need to refamilarize myself with some of our techniques."

"That's a good idea. I always get a lot from my yearly Wench Counselors conference. I'll pull out the blues, shall I?"

Laure grinned. "Thanks, Dande. You want to do lunch tomorrow and go over them before we head out on vacation?"

"I'll make chicken salad croissantwiches."

"It's a date."

*****

Strolling down the main hallway, Laure smiled at the oddly soothing sounds of construction from the Library, and wall rattling from the Clinic, then stepped into the General's outer office.

Kendra glowered at her. "I'm still Empress."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Commo's got bigger concerns than your piddly ponds. I need to reschedule my four o'clock appointment for tea with the General."

Kendra's glower turned to an astonished stare. "You know that's one step closer to total Ungratefulness."

"I'm not giving it up, just rescheduling," Laure insisted.

Kendra flipped through the calendar and shook her head. "There's nothing free before we leave for Alderaan."

"Well, move someone up to my slot and give me theirs."

"I'll have to make some calls," the Secretary said, frowning. "You could have given me more notice."

"I just found out about this conference an hour ago."

"Whatever. Hm, maybe Julia would like to have the afternoon appointment and you could have hers at eight tonight."

"Yeah, that'll work."

"I can't guarantee it until I check with Julia and she's off in the woods where I'm not allowed without proper escort."

"Look, I have to go, just schedule me for something tonight. Anything. I'm not going without the General for a day, but I need to go to this conference. I'll be back around seven thirty. Thanks."

Kendra sighed heavily as Laure turned on her heel and left the office. For a few seconds she looked at the calendar, then shoved it aside and returned to designing her new "Keep Out Moron, that Means You, Commo" signs.

*****

Entering the Four Seasons, Laure glanced at the board listing where the various functions were being held, then headed for the small conference room on the first floor. A young woman stood there, wearing a badly fitting bright pink suit and a bad perm. She smiled pleasantly and Laure tried to return it and ignore the really bad hair.

"Miss Alexander?"

"Um, yeah. How did you know?" Laure's smile wavered a bit in confusion.

"Oh, you're quite famous." The young woman clapped her hands in glee and handed Laure a nametag, kind of contradicting the 'famous' comment. Laure stuck it on her blazer, then entered the conference room.

As her eyes moved over the crowd of about twenty five women, mostly young, an odd twitch went through her, but she brushed it off and took a seat in the second row. Removing a pad of paper and a pen from her briefcase, she nodded politely to the woman sitting next to her, who gaped at her, displaying lipstick on her teeth.

The moderator took the stage, a middle aged woman in a poorly fitting mock DK suit, and began to welcome everyone, before launching into a very dry recitation of the history of conflict resolution.

Frowning slightly and trying to get comfortable in her seat, Laure really hoped that the next speaker was a bit more interesting.

*****

Tea time--or four o'clock in the afternoon. The General poked his head out of his office and glanced at his Secretary.

"Making more signs, love?"

"I'm thinking about putting sirens on them to stop the vandalism," Kendra replied with just a tad too much glee.

Obi-Wan just smiled and nodded. "Have you heard from Laure? I have the kettle on."

"Oh. Right. She's not coming?"

He frowned. "Laure never misses our teas."

"She cancelled." Kendra clicked her mouse on the 'indestructible adimantium' button for the new signs she was having made by Signs R Us.

"Laure never cancels."

Kendra shrugged. "Well, she asked me to rearrange things but you're booked solid." Pushing 'send', she swivelled her chair around and grinned at the General. "Except that now you're free for an hour."

"Did she say why she was cancelling?"

"Something about a conference. I didn't ask. She's ungra..." Kendra stopped herself and hopped to her feet. "Let's go for a swim in the pool."

At the smile and attention of his number one Water Ho, the General shook off his melancholy, made a mental note to try to reschedule Laure or find her at the first possible moment that evening, and reached for Kendra's hand.

"Skinny dipping?"

Kendra melted. "And very, very wet."

*****

Absently picking leaves and twigs out of her hair and munching on trail mix, Dorotea wandered into the Library. She immediately sneezed at the amount of sawdust, then sneezed again at the bright light shining through the numerous windows.

"Bless you," Da Mastah intoned, adjusting his tool belt and gazing adoringly at the wood trim around the windows.

"There are walls."

"And a roof," he announced with a proud smile. "And look at all those windows. Natural light is a wonderful inducement for study."

Dorotea's eyes widened in horror. "Shades, curtains, blinds?"

"I believe Dande is taking care of that." Qui-Gon looked down at Dorotea and frowned slightly. "Are those freckles on your nose?"

As she wiped furiously at her nose, praying it was dirt, his frown turned into a paternal beam. "Aragorn is a good man, and very good with his hands." He winked at her.

Gurgling, Dorotea managed to mumble something that sounded agreeable, then fled for the crypt and her large supply of sun screen.

Dande strolled in with her curtain samples. "I thought I heard Dor."

"She went downstairs." Qui-Gon brightened. "Perhaps she'll let you bring some color and light to that dank hole next."

Smiling, Dande patted his shoulder. "One step at a time, dear. I just got off the phone with Xani."

The bright look fled, replaced by the paternal stern one. "Why can't he be more like Obi-Wan? He could learn so much from him."

"Yes, Mastah darling, but he's not ready to listen to your suggestions, yet."

"What did Xanatos say?" Qui-Gon sighed.

"Well, we talked about the weather, Parisian food, the rude manners of the French, his latest practical joke on Pelham, some new Xbox game he bought at Disney World France, then he mocked Aragorn some, never referring to him by name, of course."

"Did he ask about Dor?"

Dande smiled broadly. "No. But, every word he said dripped with emotion for her."

Da Mastah rolled his eyes to the ceiling, then he frowned, before turning to the workers and asking, "Who strung vines from the ceiling?"

The men all looked at each other, then back again, then shrugged and returned to their assigned tasks.

"Oh, isn't that sweet? Dor wants Aragorn to feel welcome inside." Dande beamed and held up the swatch with ivy to compare it to the real thing.

*****

Without knocking, Emmy clomped into the Office of Mediation and Conflict Resolution, and asked, "She in?"

Kymira didn't even glance up from her game. "No."

"Boinking one of her EAs?"

"No."

"I need to see her about the PR job."

"I thought you closed down that office," Kymira remarked, then woohooed as she got a triple bonus.

Emmy shot her an exasperated look. "Not permanently. Look, Laure's the only one of us with the patience to give tours, and now that's she doing a real job again, I figured she could do that a couple of hours a week."

"The last time she was overworked she ended up swinging from the ceiling and flashing the miners."

"The new semester hasn't even started. Her schedule can't be full."

Giving up on her game, Kymira raised her eyebrows at the Dean, then flipped open the PDA calendar on her computer. "This was yesterday. Nine o'clock, Cal and his Dickless issues. Ten o'clock, some squabble between the firemen. Eleven o'clock, emergency appointment between two Freshmen over the use of the bathroom. Eleven thirty, emergency appointment between two Freshmen over misuse of the toothpaste tube. Noon, lunch at her desk followed by banging her head on it for a good five minutes. One o'clock, Cal and his fear of walking trees. Two-thirty, Lindsey and Shana bickering over pre-tax expenses. Three o'clock..."

"Okay, I get the picture already. What the hell is she doing mediating between Cal and himself?"

"She's too soft-hearted. Has a hard time saying 'no' to the idiot."

Emmy rolled her eyes. "No more Cal appointments, and she should have plenty of time to give tours. Where is she?"

"Conference."

"Are we paying for that?"

Kymira glanced down at the reservation sheet she'd printed out. "Yep."

"It's not a fashion show is it?" Emmy asked suspiciously.

"Nope. Mediation Training. Sounds incredibly dull."

"I thought she was fully trained Mediator."

"Something about refamiliarizing herself with the methods of blah blah."

"Very dull," Emmy agreed. "Put me down for ten in the morning to discuss the tours with her."

"She has Cal then."

Emmy just snorted.

*****

Three hours into the Conference and Laure was beginning to seriously regret postponing tea with the General. Everything being discussed was basically good sense or the very rudimentary lessons of Mediating 101. The current speaker was reading straight from a college text book!

And stumbling over half the terms.

And why were several of the women staring at her?

She could feel their eyes on her. Every time she looked around, the women would quickly crane their necks around and stare raptly at the stage, but she knew they were watching her.

This was getting very weird.

Glancing at her program--hand typed with 'Mediation' spelled with an 's' in the middle--Laure saw that a break was up next. Good, she had to go to the bathroom, and maybe she'd figure out what the hell was going on.

*****

Walking quickly up the aisle, Laure stepped out of the conference room and sighed in relief, only to blink as a flash went off in her face.

"What are you two doing here?"

"We heard you were back in silk," Julia smirked.

"Taking pictures of our staff at work," Sere added, peeking in the door and snapping several shots. "There's enough bad hair in there to keep three salons busy for weeks."

"Having fun?"

Laure glared at Julia. "I'm shocked you left Legolas alone. Aren't you afraid someone will grope him?"

"I modified the old EA alarms to go off if anyone of the opposite sex touches him." Julia patted her pocket where the receiver rested.

Laure smirked. "Maybe I should have one of those made for Spike."

"You are an evil woman."

"Very."

Several chattering mediators left the room and came to a stumbling halt before the three Ho's, then they dashed down the hall, mumbling in low whispers to each other.

"Remind me not to ever need any of their services," Sere mentioned. "They don't look very professional."

"And they're almost all very young."

Laure shrugged. "Well, it's not like the tri-county area is some hotbed of conflict, like L.A. or Coruscant."

"...Yeah, probably." Julia took a picture of the hand drawn sign. "Do they know they spelled 'resolution' with two 's'es?"

*****

After Julia and Sere headed back to campus, Laure wandered into the bathroom and found it deserted. Wondering only vaguely where the other mediators had gotten themselves to, Laure made use of the facilities, then touched up her make-up. As one curl fell over her forehead, she frowned into the mirror and reached for the complimentary hair spray.

"Industrial strength no name brand?" she read off the can, putting it down before she applied it to her hair. "Where's the good stuff?" No Ho or Wench would touch this generic crap even if it was the only hair spray left in the universe. Shoving the curl behind her ear, she glanced at her watch, saw that there were two more hours till dinner, and forced herself to leave the bathroom and return to the conference.

As she approached the room, she groaned at the sight of Commo bearing down on her, followed by Quintus.

"Beloved. Dearest." He was waving his check book at her. Laure grabbed it from him before he whapped Quintus with it by accident. "The bank has stolen all my gold."

"Not all of it. I mean, there's still some left."

"One hundred and thirty three dollars and twenty eight cents," Commo recited. "Where is my gold plate? My jewels?"

"You built a golf course, remember?"

"I thought that was a gift from your benevolent regents."

Quintus snickered and Laure shot him a deadly look.

"No, no, they just allowed you to build it on their land." At his confused look, Laure sighed and patted his shoulder. "All your money's gone, darling."

He continued to look confused. "But, I am emperor, a god. People give me money. I don't give it to them. Well, I wish to give it to these men," he handed her a copy of 'Soldier of Fortune', "so that they may make war for me. I shall then be rewarded by my conquered subjects and refill my coffers."

"You don't need an army."

"Every emperor needs an army," he replied pompously.

"What happened to the plan to kill Max?" Laure asked in desperation to get him off the idea of hiring mercenaries, knowing full well that Max could take care of himself.

"That little warrior woman of his refused to let me challenge him to a duel."

"No dueling," Laure yelled.

Commo frowned down at her. "You have raised your voice to your emperor."

As her eyes snapped and narrowed dangerously, Commo stumbled backwards, the stern look leaving his face. "Perhaps I spoke too soon."

"Yeah, perhaps. Look Commo, you want money, you have to go get a job. This isn't ancient Rome. You're not really an emperor."

"I am so."

"Okay you're an emperor in name only." As that seemed to pacify him, she continued a bit more gently. "But, that means that people don't worship you and they don't just give you money for no reason."

"In Rome they used to shower me with rose petals everywhere I went."

Unable to remain exasperated with him, Laure smiled and stood on her toes to kiss him. "When we come back from vacation, we'll find you a job that pays well and has very little work."

"So I can invade Arkansas?" he asked eagerly.

Laure sighed. "So, you can get those front row seats at the Masters you want so badly."

His eyes lit up.

"Um, Miss Alexander. We're about to start your panel discussion," one of the women called from the doorway.

"I have to go, darling. I'll be back after dinner."

"I saw the annoying white haired man leaving campus with a packed bag, so he won't need your mediating skills tonight. Shall I plan a late supper?"

"Sounds lovely."

"Miss Alexander," the woman persisted.

Laure rolled her eyes and gave her emperor another kiss, before heading into the conference room.

"If you'll come this way, I'm sure the audience has millions of questions."

"You know, I didn't really prepare. I mean, I can talk about my own experiences, I guess."

"Oh yes, your experiences at Ho...er...Hestia State are what we're all here to hear about."

Laure frowned, but walked up the steps to the stage. The moderator sat behind the table and gestured for her to take the other seat. "I thought this was a panel," Laure whispered.

The older woman looked flustered. "The others backed out. I'm sure you can provide us with sixty minutes of thrilling exploits."

Laure frowned even more. The moderator stood and introduced her, and there was an awed round of applause.

The budding suspicion she'd been feeling most of the afternoon began to blossom into the real thing.

"Um, well, we're here to discuss ethics and law in mediation services. I find that..."

She was interrupted by the waving of a bejeweled hand. "Miss Alexander? Miss Alexander?"

"Um, yes?"

A plump fake blonde stood up and gazed adoringly at Laure. "How do you do it, Miss Alexander? That's what we all want to know. How do you get away with it?"

"Get away with what?"

"How do you get close to him without being caught?" another asked, this one a mock redhead with frizzy curls and wearing a puce colored wrap dress.

"Him who? What is this all about?"

"You're our heroine," a third woman sighed, and an excited buzz sounded through the audience.

"I think you have me mistaken for someone else. I'm just a mediator at a local college. Unless, "she brightened. "Are you talking about my CD?"

"You sing wonderfully," another chimed in, "But we kinda prefer Britney Spears to those old-fashioned songs. Maybe you could cover her on your next CD?"

More excited babbling.

"Yeah, I'll do that," Laure muttered, then tried to steer the talk to mediation. "I did have an interesting case the other day. Two students were having a disagreement over their choices of music..."

"What about General Kenobi? Do you mediate with him?" a brunette blowing bubbles giggled.

"General Kenobi and I have a professional working relationship, but I don't..."

Loud applause rang out and Laure stared helplessly at the far- away exit.

After the sound died away, one woman, a rather cold and vulpine looking blonde, rose and put her hands on her hips. "Let's just cut to the chase, shall we? How do you, a Princess, get away with masquerading as a Ho?" She smiled with malevolent glee.

Laure gaped at her.

*****

Happy Hour in the Pub was booming along merrily, when the Nurse staggered in, blinking hazily around the room.

"Looking for your husband?" Judy asked. "Haven't seen him."

"I sent him off to have drinks with Max and tell tall tales around the campfire for fifteen minutes. Where's the lushy mediator?"

"Haven't seen her all day." Judy reached for the Stolis as Darry plopped down on a stool.

"I sent Cic away because Laure wanted to have drinks at five. It's five. Actually, it's twenty after. Where's Laure?" Darry demanded, pounding her fist down on the bar in a hormonal outburst.

Judy glared, grabbed a rag, and wiped up the sweat imprint. "Hey, Commo," she called across the room to where the fallen emperor was losing his shirt again at poker with his posse. "Where's Laure?"

"My beloved is in town at the Four Seasons."

"Were you supposed to be having drinks there?" the bartender asked, then frowned. "Why would any of you go elsewhere for drinks? Is my pub no longer good enough..."

"Your pub's the place to be," Darry interrupted with a snort. "Like I'm getting more than a couple hundred yards from Cic. And the bar at the Four Seasons stinks. They water the booze."

Judy nodded, feeling vindicated as Darry gulped down the martini and waved for another.

"Laure's at a conference learning how to mediate better or something," Kymira mentioned from the other end of the bar where she was spelling her name in pretzel sticks.

"We need a pool table in here," Jen mentioned.

"Foozball," Ellie added.

"There's a perfectly good game room at the other end of the building," Judy suggested, frowning at the crumbs being left behind by the bored Ho's.

"Too far away from the 'ritas," Jen grinned.

"Y'know, with my Master mediating all the time again, maybe we could get her to give up the Cabaret and put the game tables in there."

"Ooh, and an old-fashioned pinball machine," Ellie suggested. "Logan's addicted to those."

As the girls started discussing the various games they wanted, Darry slammed back martini number two and slid from her stool. "Well, fifteen minutes is up."

"It's been three and a half," Judy pointed out.

"Whatever."

As the Nurse grabbed her phone and dialed star one for Cicero, Judy just shook her head and picked up a chamois to polish the fingerprints off the bar.

*****

"I'm not a Princess," Laure finally managed to deny, her brain whirling in confusion and horror.

The women began to frown and mutter until one spoke up sharply, "Sure you are. Our sources say that the Dean calls you one all the time, but that you have the General wrapped around your little finger."

"And that Master Jinn is addicted to your muffins."

"Even that fallen Jedi, the black haired one, is in love with you."

"So, those nasty Ho's just have to accept you, since the men want you," one pimply faced girl sighed dreamily.

"I *am* a nasty Ho," Laure protested. "I mean, I am a Ho. I'm not a Princess. Emmy just likes to piss me off. Oh god, you're all princesses!" The truth finally sank in and Laure felt a great chill run over her.

"And you're our heroine," the moderator rhapsodized next to her, reaching out to touch her sleeve.

Laure jerked away. "Ick, don't touch me."

The older woman nodded sympathetically. "I know how trying it must be to live with all those bitter hags, but you have the love of the Jedi and that must be a glorious thing. Share with us how you managed to infiltrate them so that we may join you."

"Oh. Fuck."

*****

A little after seven o'clock the Pub was witness to something the regulars had never seen: their once elegant and exquisitely quaffed mediator, turned rather scruffy but in a charming way hippy, turned besequined and bedazzling cabaret star staggering into the room, one heel broken, hair falling out of the once neat twist, jacket ripped, hose run, makeup smeared.

Obi-Wan, enjoying a drink with Tara, jumped to his feet in distress. "Laure? Are you all right? Were you attacked?"

Eyes bright, face flushed, Laure swung her attention to where Aragorn was teaching Dorotea some odd dice game and Elvish. "Dor, there's a room full of princesses at the Four Seasons. Chicken them, please."

Dorotea's eyes lit up.

"Huh?" Tara asked as the General guided Laure to their table, giving the Water Ho an apologetic look.

"I know this is your time, Tara..."

"Hell, I wanna be first to hear this story," Tara said, grinning.

"Sherry?" Obi-Wan asked Laure solicitously. "Brandy?"

Laure shook her head and looked over at Judy. "Irish, neat, the whole bottle."

Judy brought her a bottle of whisky and Laure opened it and took a big swig.

"You were ambushed by Princesses?" the General figured out as Emmy strolled in.

"Princesses? Where? What's the use of having a restraining order if..." Laure's look shut up the Diva.

"Do you know what I've been through this afternoon? Do you know what you're calling me a Princess has done?"

"Turned you into one?" Emmy offered a bit hesitantly.

Laure growled.

"Guess not." Emmy grinned. "That was pretty Hoish."

"They thought... they thought..." Laure strangled on her own words, finally spitting out, "They thought I was a Princess who had infiltrated HSU!"

Everyone but the General--and Aragorn because he hadn't been around long enough to get the gist--burst into laughter.

"They whined at me. They *whined*! They asked where I bought my suit, where I had my hair colored. This is my natural color and they didn't believe me! They tried to touch me, tried to worship me. They started tearing at my clothes, claiming that all they needed was my jacket or my bra, for god's sake, and they'd be able to stupify everyone at HSU into thinking they're Ho's. I had to beat them off with my shoe. My four hundred dollar shoe!"

The General chuckled, then coughed to cover it.

"Did you just laugh at me, Kenobi?"

"No, never. Just the image." He gave her a smoldering look. "Did you win the fight?"

Trying to ignore the tingle of pleasure from his gaze, Laure managed to look affronted. "Of course I won. I'm a Ho."

"Yes, you are," he said with a smile.

Laure looked up at Emmy.

"Of course you're a Ho," the Diva replied with a patented eye roll. "You'd have been booted years ago if you weren't. Judy, mega mega margarita please. If I have to hear one more complaint from a parent over last semester's grades..."

As the Diva Dean headed for the bar, Laure sighed softly.

"Stamp of approval." Tara grinned.

"Until the next time we clash."

"Oh, you love it, so does she."

Laure managed a tired grin back. "Keeps it interesting around here."

"That's never much of a problem," Tara replied, as the potted plant in the corner turned into a stuffed rabbit and Dorotea blushed and squirmed.

Rising to her feet, Laure said, "I'll leave you to your drinks."

Being a gentleman, naturally, Obi-Wan rose when she did. "I believe Kendra managed to free up the next hour for you." He leaned in and whispered, "How about I make you feel like a queen?"

Laure smiled and giggled, whispering back, "I'll meet you in your suite," before limping out of the Pub.

As she headed for the stairs, she nearly ran into the marching Warrior Princess.

"There you are. The evil one has declared war on Max. So far I've managed to keep it from him. Do something about it. Now."

Laure chuckled. "Let them spar with wooden swords, Jael. It'll get out some of their mutual aggression."

"I don't want nutty boy anywhere near my man. He brings back bad memories."

"But think of how it'll make Max feel to pound on Commo. You know he'll win."

An intrigued look filled Jael's eyes. "Shirtless?"

"Of course."

"Hm, well, maybe when we get back I'll think about it. Just keep him away from Max till then."

"No problem. He's golfing on a different championship course every day on Alderaan. Heck, by the time we come home, he'll probably have forgotten all about this war thing."

Jael nodded. "Men are easily distracted. Hey, is Spike coming along?"

Laure smirked and shook her head.

"I was just asking," Jael retorted. "Eye candy and all that."

"Yeah, Spike on the beach. That works."

Jael finally seemed to notice Laure's appearance. "You look like you just went to war yourself."

"Chicken fight."

"You win?"

"Of course."

They high fived and headed in opposite directions, Laure for her suite and a quick shower and a couple of Tylenol, before her appointment with the General.

Which won't be televised here, but was greatly enjoyed by the two of them...

End