Title: Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid
Author: Kendra
Archive: you must be joking
Rating: IBOOTW (It's been one of those weeks)
Disclaimer: Same stuff, different day
Notes: I have to confess, it's been a horrible, horrible PMS week. I can cry with the best of them, then turn around and snark in a moment's notice. This just came to mind tonight and figured it was a crazy, silly way to take out my frustrations. I hope this doesn't drive anyone loopy or offend anyone, this is purely in fun. Forgive the mess, I just glanced at it and decided to post.

~~*~~

The General sat at his desk and settled in with a strong cup of coffee and the latest edition of the 'Tattler'. He grabbed his glasses, slipped them on and then sighed heavily at the headlines.

'HSU could go up in flames at any moment'-quotes Capt. Tara. 'Unexpected and mysterious water shortage to blame.'

"Not again," the General groaned as he sat the paper upon his desk, took off his glasses and placed them upon the blotter. Then the moment of truth, he called for his secretary. "Kendra!"

Moments later the Water Ho arrived at his office door. "What?" she asked testily, making him raise his brow in surprise.

"Kendra, love, have you read today's edition of the 'Tattlah'?"

Kendra eyed the General cautiously, especially not having seen the paper and mentally tried to rethink if she'd caused any problems out of the ordinary. Then she suddenly envisioned the calamity that Julia and Sere surely must have documented- but at least this time she was free and clear or so she hoped. "No. What's wrong?" she asked skeptically.

The General moved his glasses and then slowly slid the paper across his desk so his secretary could read that morning's headlines. "Would you have any idea about this watah shortage?" he quizzed as he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers before his chest.

Kendra gasped loudly while taking a stumbling step backwards. "Water shortage? I didn't know we had one. But you're...you're trying to blame me, aren't you?"

The General furrowed his brow and cocked his head to the side. "Well, love, it is your..."

Suddenly and quite swiftly his secretary burst into loud, sobbing tears. "Kendra, Kendra, Kendra...if it's a flood it's always my fault. If it's a geyser my fault. If it's a fire, Tara's fault. If it's my lake and streams and waterfalls drying up it's my fault. If it's raining out, my fault," she blathered as the General began to look nervous.

"I didn't say that..." he began to object calmly as his secretary cried even louder, then very unexpectedly the tears stopped and his Jedi senses went into full alert.

"Oh you didn't have to say THAT...you thought it though," Kendra scowled as she walked forward and stood over the man. Instantly placing her finger against his chest. "Kendra, Kendra, Kendra..." she snapped, as her finger jabbed into his chest with each syllable.

The General had certainly met his fair share of Sith, wackos, and any number of worthy opponents, but what faced him now scared the hell out of him. One look in his secretary's wild eyes...no...now teary eyes once again, told him all he needed to know. He had surely miscalculated; he was taking his life in his hands and did so blindly. Those three little letters that struck fear in any male, Jedi or not, flashed before his eyes. PMS- Force help him.

But before Obi-Wan's mind could formulate a retreat and head for higher ground, his secretary sniffled then turned to leave. Grabbing his car keys and jacket, the General quickly said his goodbye to his secretary who was now sitting at her desk eating peanut butter straight from the jar, and he made a hasty exit.

"You're slipping Kenobi," he muttered to himself, knowing his journey to the safety of the garage would be most perilous.

~~*~~

"Wishpuff?" Qui-Gon asked with alarm as he glanced from the television to his Wench, who was sitting upon the couch sighing heavily, while daintily dabbing a lace handkerchief at the perfect tear that threatened to roll down her flawless cheek.

"That's so...so...sad," Dande whimpered, shaking her head in disbelief at the television as her husband glanced back to the commercial and only noticed and ad for motor oil.

"Puff?"

"That poor, poor woman. She has to go get her own motor oil and then probably has to put it in her car herself. Poor thing...she's so unloved," the Wench sobbed as the tears flowed and her husband quickly set the recliner upright and nervously looked at his wife.

"Force," the Mastah mumbled as he quickly stood and went over to stand before his wife and awkwardly patted her shoulder. "There, there, puff," he tried to sooth, then his eyes went wide in panic. "Wishpuff? You're not...well could you be...are you possibly pregnant?" he whispered.

Da Mastah didn't need another reply as Dande pulled herself free of his touch and glared at her husband before bursting into tears again. "You don't love me," the Wench exclaimed as she scurried to the bedroom and slammed and locked the door behind her.

"Oh hell," Qui-Gon growled.

~~*~~

"And just where do you think you're going?" Emmy questioned, stopping the General in his tracks as he tried to stealthily make his way through the Admin building.

"What?" the General nearly shouted as he turned around to face the Diva. If there was one thing the Jedi had learned over the years, when living with a group of women, you quickly learned a whole new respect for synchronized hormones.

"You weren't trying to sneak out without saying hello, were you?" she asked, his eyes locking with hers and she could sense the male fear.

In a desperate attempt to change the subject, the General just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "New shoes?" The moment the words left his lips he knew it was a big mistake, but he couldn't stop himself as the words registered in his own ears.

The Diva, momentarily distracted, glanced down to her brand new pair of clunky spring sandals, then slowly, predatorily, looked back up at the man before her. "Yes. What's wrong with them? Are you trying to tell me my feet look fat?"

"What? No!" the General objected in that normally endearing way, but this time it was an octave above usual. "No! You're feet are small. Very, very small."

"Oh, so are you now saying I have tiny feet?" Emmy demanded, her hands on her hips.

"No!"

"Then obviously you're saying I have fat feet!"

"Yes! I mean no!" the Jedi stammered, a soft glow of perspiration forming on his forehead.

"Which is it, Kenobi?" Emmy demanded as the General started at the Ho's feet.

Taking a long step backwards, the General took a deep, calming breath. "Did you hear that? Fire alarm...I should go help Tarah and... I'll see you later, love," he hurriedly exclaimed before returning upon his way.

~~*~~

Julia stood before the target. Arrow in one hand, bow in the other as Legolas stood a good, safe distance away from the mumbling Ho.

"How dare he..." she groused, stabbing the arrow into the target.

"He...did...not...even...ask..." Julia snapped, emphasizing each word with another stab of the arrow.

"A...freakin...mobile...communications...trailer...flashbacks...trailer trash...floods...fire...geysers...gnomes! Die...die...die!" the Ho sputtered, her hand with the arrow a blur as it jabbed soundly into the bullseye.

Legolas raised an elegant brow at the display and kept his hand at the ready in case the Ho suddenly turned her deadly barrage from the target to his person. He watched with curious and cautious eyes as Julia took a sudden, deep, heaving breath and finally stopped assaulting the target.

The Ho blew a few stray pieces of straw from her hair and glanced to the gaping hole in the middle of the target before her. "Now that felt good," she gleamed, then turned around to speak to Legolas but only saw a blur of blonde hair high tailing it to the safety of the woods.

"What the hell is his problem?"

~~*~~

"Alright, who the hell ate the last fucking bag of chips?" Darry loudly shouted as she slammed the cabinet door shut.

Cic, lounging in bed, immediately glanced to the empty bag of chips on his lap and tried to hurry and swallow the last mouthful. " Thon't know," he replied, his mouth full of chips as he nearly choked when he heard the Nurse stomping back to the bedroom.

"Damn freeloaders," the Nurse griped as Cic quickly hid the empty chip bag under her pillow. "I told you not to let Dor and that Campfire boy in here."

Cic nodded his head in agreement and swallowed thickly to rid himself of the evidence as his wife slipped back into the bed and began to snuggle up against him, but abruptly stopped. "What the..." Darry remarked as she ran her hands across the sheets and found crumbs.

Darry eyed the servant like a cat would eye a mouse, and before Cic knew what hit him; the Nurse was kissing him senseless as he flailed his arms wildly. "Ah ha! You're the one who ate my last bag of chips!" She cried, licking her lips as Cic tried to catch his breath. "You'll pay for this indiscretion."

The servant didn't even see it coming or even gasp in surprise as the Nurse was upon him in an instant. There was definitely no doubt about it, Cic would pay. And pay and pay and pay. Good thing he married a nurse.

~~*~~

"What the hell are you doing?" Dor asked as she walked into the clearing just above the waterfalls and found Aragorn supervising a small army of men as they filled a myriad of bottles with water.

Aragorn grabbed a bottle of stream water and walked back to the Wo and handed it to her. "You wouldn't believe what these non-Middle Earth types are willing to pay for this," he gleamed as Dor took the bottle and flashed doe eyes at him.

Well at the very least, the Ranger thought it was doe eyes, but he could never be sure since it was so quick and fleeting. Aragorn's confused musings were suddenly brought back to reality when Dor sputtered and spewed a mouthful of water at him.

"What is this swill?" she quizzed, looking at the bottle as if it were toxic.

"Fresh, cool, clean, water," the Ranger replied as Dor made faces of disgust.

"Oh, figures" she mumbled before handing back the bottle then turning to leave. "I need a real drink. Go about your business. Just don't come running to me when the Water Empress finds out what you're doing," the Librarian warned, waving her hand dismissively as she headed to the pub.

~~*~~

"You! You're too close to the shrine!" Judy bellowed, pointing her seltzer nozzle in Jen's direction.

"Touchy, touchy," JenJen grumbled as she slowly backed away from the red velvet ropes that encircled the marble pedestal that held a picture of Judy holding her beloved bat.

"You'd be touchy too if your padawan trashed your bat," Judy replied, a misty look fogging her eyes as she glanced longingly at the picture of happier times.

"Oh brother...over a freakin bat," Jen muttered as she walked across the room as Judy growled.

"It was not just 'any' bat! It was my beloved bat! It was with me through thick and thin...all those chickens and drunk miners and Orcs we beat together," the bartender emotionally explained before becoming overwhelmed with memories.

"My poor bat," Judy sighed as she sank to a barstool and looked to her shrine and couldn't help but weep. Well, that is in between using the seltzer nozzle to hose down Logan and Lupin who were getting rowdy about who was tougher, a wolverine or a werewolf.

~~*~~

"I told you to shut up," Tyr snarled as he glowered at Ross.

"You should have not said what you did. The Captain is sensitive..." Roux griped, blowing a strand of dark hair from his eyes.

"What the hell possessed you to say that?" Plunkett demanded, leaning forward to inspect his handiwork.

"Yes, say 'dat," Vassili agreed, before cussing in Russian as he dropped the electric toothbrush.

Ross stood beside the fire truck and leaned closely so he could see into the side mirror. "All I did was ask her if she could turn the TV to PBS. I did not say PMS!" he objected as the fire crew all grumbled their discontent and groaned.

"You know better," Boromir snapped as he stood watching the men work.

"Alright you guys! I want to see that engine shine!" Tara shouted as she walked up, arms across her chest as she inspected the work so far. "Vas, a little more elbow grease!"

Vas just looked at the electric toothbrush in his hands and shrugged his shoulders; he hadn't a clue what the Captain meant, for the batteries in the damned thing were nearly dead.

Tara had to admit this was a stroke of genius for punishment. Make the men clean and shine the engine with toothbrushes. A true stroke of brilliance she thought to herself as Boromir kept his distance upon seeing the maniacal gleam in the Ho's eyes.

~~*~~

"Trust me, it will help," Shana insisted as Laure looked skeptical. "Just do it! And pretend it's Spike's head your bashing under there," she smiled sweetly as Laure nodded her head in understanding.

SLAM

The lid to the copier was quite loud when actually closed with great force. Laure couldn't help but grin with the images of Spike being pummeled beneath the Xerox logo.

SLAM

"Oh, this is good!" Laure giggled as Shana nodded her understanding.

"Tell me about it. I didn't just pretend to slam Scott's hand in the copier, I did slam his hand in the copier," Shana replied wistfully. "Stupid men, they just get on my nerves sometimes."

"They're only good for one thing," Laure snapped, then slammed the lid down one more time. But this time pretending it was Commo's face being smashed against the glass.

SLAM

"Here, let me have another go at it," Shana quickly interjected as Laure moved out of the way and let the other Ho take out her frustrations on the copier.

"You know, I do feel much better," Laure sighed, then noticed Elrond quickly scurrying down the hallway and her annoyance at the male population flared again. "Think if we grab a box of chocolates and sit down and contemplate the male demise we'd get as much satisfaction?"

Shana shrugged her shoulders and looked at the other Ho. "Haven't a clue, but we can try," she replied as the copier was quickly forgotten and a chocolate run was in order.

~~*~~

"Who go there?" Vassili demanded in broken English as he raised his rifle.

"It's just Qui-Gon," Da Mastah's deep voice answered as he stepped into the dimly lit garage once the firemen let him pass.

Obi-Wan sat in his car, the driver's side door open as he brushed a speck of dust off the dashboard. "I see you made it," the General sighed upon seeing his former Master.

"Yes, it was harrowing at best," Qui-Gon mused as he glanced around and noticed the male members of the fire department talking lowly in the back corner, as the members from Middle Earth looked curiously at the vehicles. "We really should know better by now," the Mastah remarked as his former padawan nodded his head in agreement.

"We need a bettah system to alert us so we can prepare," the General agreed with a tired sigh.

Suddenly there was a noise from the side door of the garage. All the male populace inside hiding from the female populace outside stopped what they were doing and went deathly still. Finally, when it was deemed all clear, the men breathed a sigh of relief and went back to commiserating.