A Touch Of The Jedi A Touch Of The Jedi by Kym Hamilton Author's disclaimer: 'due SOUTH' and all related characters and settings are the property of Paul Haggis, the BBC and Alliance. They own all, I own naught but this story. 'Star Wars' and all related characters and settings belong to George Lucas and 20th Century Fox. Once again, they own all and I own naught but this story. Author's notes: This story was inspired by a conversation held on 'Turnbull'. I hereby dedicate it to Elaine, who gives me whacky ideas and the courage to write them. A TOUCH OF THE JEDI by Kym Hamilton The cinema was already dark when they entered, and the two men shuffled their way along a row of chairs to the two in the middle that were empty. Settling themselves down, they munched on popcorn as the ads and previews flickered on the big screen. Bor-ring! Then the curtains were moved further apart and the '20th Century Fox' logo showed, the drum beat that was the company's theme music resonating loudly through the cinema. The screen went black. The, so sudden it was like it came out of nowhere, came the blaring fanfare of brass that signalled the start of the "Star Wars" theme. The words scrolled their way up the screen - Episode 1, The Phantom Menace. Both straightened in their chairs and fixed their eyes completely on the screen, preparing to be absorbed by the magic of George Lucas's vision. The movie had barely started, however, when one of the men became aware of a whispered conversation being held in the seats directly behind them. "What do those light-sabers remind you of?" "The same thing they remind you of," was the reply in an amused tone. "I didn't know you could get blue glow-in-the-dark condoms, though," the first voice laughed. They sounded like two girls, the man thought. Young, he decided, but not teenagers. In their twenties, perhaps. He tried to listen to some more, but the conversation had stopped, so he concentrated on the movie. About half an hour later, the whispers began again. "Obi-Wan is so sexy! Especially with that braid." "Yes, but those robes make him look good too." "That's for sure. And have you noticed the chemistry between those two? And how he always calls Qui-Gon 'master'?" "I know! It's like George Lucas is subconsciously saying, 'These two belong together. I can't do it in this film, so you do it on the 'net for me.'" "Did you bring pen and paper?" "I always bring pen and paper. A good author can get inspiration from anything at anytime." How extraordinary!, the man thought. He was curious about these two young ladies and strained to hear more, but the only sound audible was the scritching of pen on paper. He nudged his companion and whispered urgently, "Ray? Ray?" His companion never took his eyes off the screen. He whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "Shhh, Rennie. It's just getting interesting." Rennie sighed, and once again turned his attention back to the screen. He soon became engrossed in the Jedi's struggle to escape from Tatooine, the pod race and Yoda's predictions about Anakin. Then came the fight between Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon and the evil Sith warrior Darth Maul. As Darth's light-spear pierced Qui-Gon's heart and Obi-Wan killed the evil warrior, the whispered conversation behind him resumed, and with a great deal more intensity. "He's killed him! That bastard has killed him! Poor Obi-Wan." "Shhh. I have to hear what his last words are." On the screen, Obi-Wan cradled his dying Master in his lap and Qui-Gon gasped out, "The boy. Promise me you will train him, Obi-Wan. He is the chosen one, the one who will bring balance..." "Awww. That is so sad. Get a load of that look Obi-Wan's giving him. There's a lot more between them than the mentor/student thing." "You'd say that anyway, you're such a slash slut." Although the words were somewhat crude and insulting, Rennie heard the way in which the young lady spoke them and knew it was simply friendly teasing. This was borne out when the other replied, "Oh, and I suppose you're not?" in the same tone of voice. "Oh, be-have!" the first replied, Austin Powers style. "It's my bag, baby." "I hate that little twerp. How can you find him funny?" "Oh, come on. Can't you just picture Obi-Wan in that tight blue suit Austin wears? Yummy! Never mind whether the movie was funny or not, you have to admit they knew how to dress in the sixties." "That's true," her friend grudgingly agreed. "Hey, do you still have your mum's lap-top?" That's interesting, Rennie thought. Not 'mom', but 'mum'. At least one of the girls was English, or Australian. "Yep. I managed to pilfer it for the weekend. Mum doesn't mind, as long as I don't put any weird programs on it." So, both the girls were non-American. Interesting. "Does she consider your 'Slash-o-Rama' program weird?" "She hasn't seen it yet," the girl replied smugly. "I delete it before I give it back to her and re-install it when I get it back." "Good thing, too. I don't think your mum's the type to appreciate a lot of men jumping each other's bones. Especially not in some of the environments you put them in." "Whatever do you mean?" asked the girl innocently. "Oh, come on yourself, girl. Blair and Neelix in the Stargate SG-1's briefing room? On the conference table? Now who's going to believe that?" Rennie decided to ignore the conversation after that, and turned his attention back to the movie, which was ending in a style reminiscent of Episode 4. A presentation of medals in a great hall with lots of people all lined up. The end credits rolled and the cinema lights came on, causing him to blink in the sudden brightness. Beside him, Ray stretched his back, throwing back his shoulders and moaning at the release. "That was a great movie, Rennie. I'm starved. Let's eat." Rennie just nodded and followed Ray out of the cinema. They got into Ray's GTO and headed for Rennie's apartment, Ray weaving in and out of Chicago traffic like a pro. When they arrived at Rennie's run-down apartment building, they got out and Ray followed his friend up three flights of creaky stairs to his apartment. Opening the door to 3S, Rennie ushered Ray inside, and followed, closing the door behind him. Ray, as was his custom, threw himself down on Rennie's couch and sighed. Rennie had a great couch. It was saggy and hard at the same time. And in all the right places. No springs poked you, either. He wished Fraser had a couch like it, but then that was part of the reason why Ray was in love with this Mountie, and not the other one. The other reasons were: a) Rennie was smart, b) Rennie was fun to be with, c) Rennie was sexy as hell, d) Rennie cared about him, e) Rennie was a great cook, f) Rennie didn't have hang-ups about male/male relationships, g) Rennie was always ready to listen, h) Rennie looked great in his uniform, and, most importantly, i) Rennie loved him, Stanley Raymond Kowalski, the man he was - not Ray Vecchio, the man he was pretending to be. He looked up from his ruminations to find a plate of chicken cacciatore and rice in front of him. It smelled delicious. He took the proffered fork and dug in with gusto. "This is great, Rennie," he mumbled through a mouthful of chicken. Rennie smiled, "You always say that about anything I cook, Ray." "That's 'cause it's always great, Rennie. You should be a chef, you can cook so good." "Thank you for the compliment, Ray, but to be a chef would take years of training at accredited cooking schools. Besides, I already have a job I love." "I dunno, Rennie. How can you like being trodden on by the Dragon Lady all day? I mean, cool is one thing, but that woman is solid ice. She wouldn't recognise an emotion if it jumped up and bit her in the butt." Rennie simply smiled and continued eating. He never said anything derogatory about his superior, but he never chastised Ray for doing so. Another difference between him and Fraser. Rennie was definitely much more easy going. Ray finished his meal and put the plate on the coffee table in front of the couch. A few minutes later, he watched his Mountie do the same. Oh, oh. Something was up. Something was bugging Rennie. "What's on your mind, Rennie?" The Mountie looked startled. They'd gone from discussing Inspector Thatcher's leadership abilities to something being on his mind? That was certainly odd. "What do you mean, Ray?" "Rennie, I may be pig-headed, talkative and stubborn, but I'm a detective and I'm not stupid. You've just fed me a meal fit for a king and you're not cleaning up. You always clean up. You always do the dishes as soon as we've both finished eating. So, what's on your mind?" "It's nothing, Ray." "Bullshit, Rennie. 'Nothing' wouldn't stop you cleaning up. What is it?" "Well..." "C'mon, Rennie. Give." "Well...," Rennie repeated, not sure he wanted to discuss the details of the conversation he'd heard. But Ray seemed to want to know. "I overheard an unusual conversation during the film tonight." "Is that all?" Ray asked, astonished. An unusual conversation? Then Ray looked at Rennie's face and saw the red flush creep across his alabaster skin. "So what, Rennie? You should hear some of the conversations that go on whenever a new 'Star Trek' movie comes out. Once I heard these two women discussing whether or not the Vulcan penis was double-ridged, or if Cardassians produced natural lubricant when sexually stimulated." "Umm..." Rennie managed to get out, fidgeting slightly, blushing even redder. "Oh," Ray said, catching on. "What was the conversation about?" he asked, curiously. What kind of sex conversations could you have at a showing of a 'Star Wars' film? "It was two young ladies and they said that the light-sabers reminded them of glow-in-the-dark condoms and that Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon should be together as a couple," Rennie blurted out, blushing redder than was humanly possibly at the same time. Ray shrugged. "Is that all?" he asked, not at all concerned. That was nothing. Not compared to what he'd heard at the first showing of 'First Contact'. "I suppose it's not really a lot to get upset about, Ray, but it's been weighing on my mind. Especially as some people may have the same idea about us." "What do you mean?" Ray demanded, suddenly all business. "Well...we spend a lot of time together, going to movies and things like that, I cook for you and you drive me around and you visit me at work. People could easily misconstrue the situation." "Is that a bad thing, Rennie?" Ray asked softly. "Would you be upset if people did think we were lovers?" The mood in the apartment had changed. Ray had felt nothing but contentment before, like he was with a good friend, eating a good meal and they were enjoying the moment. Now the atmosphere had changed. It had become serious, life-changing serious. It was like a weight pressing onto his shoulders. "Would you, Rennie?" he asked again. The handsome Mountie knelt down in front of the couch where Ray was sprawled. He reached forward and gently kissed Ray on the lips. "Not at all, Ray. Not at all." The End. addy for feedback: hamilton@mail.get.net.au