Maul vs. The Green-Eyed Monster
by Tzigana email@example.com
and RebVe firstname.lastname@example.org
[Read Tzigana's author bio] [Read Rebve's author bio]
Disclaimer: George owns the characters, we just borrowed them to play with. We promise to put them back when we're done! Thanks to Siubhan for giving us the Sith Academy to play in!
Darth Sidious rapped on his apprentice's door and received no response. What could the boy be doing? Dastardly visions flashed through the Sith Master's head concerning Maul and his next-door-neighbor. He wouldn't, not after he had been forbidden. But then, he had disobeyed before - it was the Way of the Sith. He let himself in.
"Maul," he called, noticing that the place was in remarkably good shape. The bed was made, the computer desk cleared of papers, and the kitchen contained no dirty dishes. Piles of clean, folded laundry covered the recently de-cathaired couch. Sidious had a brief flash that maybe he wasn't in the right apartment, then he heard Maul's voice.
"Master, I'm in the bathtub!"
Ooh. This was better than he imagined. Maul, chest deep in warm, sudsy water. Sidious cleared his throat and said hopefully, "Should I join you?"
"Uhhh, sure. I guess so. Why not?" came the reply.
Sidious wasted no time heading for the bathroom. He didn't even try to hide his disappointment when he discovered Maul on his hands and knees, clothed in black shorts scrubbing the bathtub. Well, Sidious supposed, that wasn't so bad either. Of late, his apprentice had been somewhat less than subservient. Maybe he shouldn't have asked him to "hide his package" for the drag show. But, it had been sooooo tempting.
"Good day, my master," said Maul, pausing in his scrubbing. "What menial service can I perform for you this time."
"Well, I had something planned for you, but now I see your already honing your rage against bathroom mildew, so perhaps that will suffice. What's the occasion?"
Maul grimaced. "I was tidying up the place, it's Friday night you know, I might have...well, never mind. Anyway, My Apprentice informed me that she was thirsty and suddenly I had an overwhelming urge to scrub the tub. I don't remember ever doing it before."
Sidious eyed the striped cat who took that moment to inspect her master's progress. Perhaps he should think about a new apprentice... He looked back to Maul and suddenly noticed something odd.
"Why are you wearing a cleaning rag?"
Maul looked down at the gray shreds of cloth covering his chest. Rage bubbled through him. "That is no rag, master. That is my Sith Lords Kick Ass T-shirt!"
"I might suggest it's time for a new one."
"Well, Sith-wear isn't exactly readily available. Perhaps if there were more than two of us, we could get some decent service."
"You know the rules, Maul," Sidious said. "But, that gives me an idea. I think you should design us a logo. Make yourself a new T-shirt while you're at it, but do take that one off." Sidious accompanied the last remark with a wave of his hand.
He watched Maul struggle, but slowly pull off the shreds of the T-shirt to reveal just how far his tattoos went. Sidious smiled. He was still the stronger one.
"Do you have ideas for the logo, my master?" Maul asked.
"No, I'm sure anything you do will be fine. I'll arrange to have graphics software installed on your machine. Oh, and you missed a spot," Sidious said, pointing. He was gratified with a nice view of Maul bending over before he left. A shame, he thought, but the Senate called.
Maul raged. Not only had Sidious made fun of his favorite garment, he'd outmatched him in a battle of will! If he could still do that it was not yet time for Maul to rise up and slay him! He didn't know how much more he could take.
And he'd have to design something. Jedi Padawan work, if he'd ever heard of it. He finished rinsing the tub and stepped out. My Apprentice immediately jumped in and began licking the bottom. Purring.
"I do provide fresh water for you, you know," he said to her. She ignored him.
He growled and went out into the living room. A technician was already at work installing PhotoForce 5.0 and ForceXPress on his machine. Sidious was nothing if not efficient. At the sight of a near naked Sith Lord entering the room, the tech finished hurriedly and skedaddled.
Well, he might as well get this over with, he thought, sitting down to his machine. On second thought he opened a Pete's Wicked Ale and sat down to his machine.
A Sith logo? Maul decided to start with an image of his face. A red double-bladed lightsaber. Sidious had said anything he came up with would be good. He'd just need the right font...
Two hours and three crashes later, Maul was...frustrated. He'd been nearly finished with his logo twice when a crash had wiped out a good deal of work. And he couldn't quite get the right red tone in his face. He'd just finished his latest version when the doorbell rang. He hit the save button. Nothing happened. His mouse was frozen!
"ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRgh!" he screamed.
Obi-Wan poked his head in the door, "Uhhh, Maul, you okay? I wouldn't normally just come in but you sounded like you were hurt."
Maul was banging his head repeatedly on the monitor.
"You know, you really shouldn't do that. One of your horns will go right through there."
Maul stopped. "I have lost everything."
"Ah, geez, Maul. That's a big bummer. Hope you saved recently."
Maul fought the urge to rise up and slay his neighbor.
"Why are you here, anyway? I figured after the Jedi Happy Farm, I wouldn't see you for awhile." he snarled.
Obi-Wan looked uncomfortable. He was dressed in brown jeans and an oddly patterned neutral toned shirt with the cuffs unbuttoned. His feet were bare. He trailed a bare toe through Maul's carpet.
"Obi-Wan?" Maul prompted.
"Maul, would you mind putting a few more clothes on? I have something important to talk to you about and I don't think I can do it while...you're dressed...like...that..." he trailed off.
Maul looked down. He realized he was only wearing black shorts. He would oblige his neighbor. Either that or he'd get nothing out of him.
He retreated to the bedroom and donned his black jeans and second favorite T-shirt. The one he'd won from the Jedi Roadkill contest.
He went back out to the living room. "You want something to drink?" he offered.
Obi-Wan shook his head.
"You want to sit down."
Obi-Wan shook his head.
"Well, I think I do," Maul grumbled. Stacking his laundry to one side, he slouched on the couch. What could the twit want? "Okay, what is it?"
Obi-Wan shuffled his feet a bit more, took a deep breath and said, "I think we should talk about our relationship."
"Our relationship. Where it's going. What you want, what I want. I mean that little marriage stunt we pulled a couple weeks ago kind of got me thinking... I mean, not about marriage...don't get me wrong, but we have been sleeping together off and on for awhile now, and I just thought maybe we should, you know, talk."
Maul felt his rage build. Half his brain wanted him to smash Kenobi's face into the wall, the other half wanted to flee over the balcony.
"Sith do not talk," Maul said, standing and fighting to keep from raising his voice. Maybe what Sidious said was right, he was finding it more difficult to be mean to Obi-Wan.
"Come on, Maul. You must have some feelings for me, don't you?" Obi-Wan's shirt was buttoned up wrong, and it gaped suddenly giving Maul a nice view of his chest. Both halves of his brain agreed that it was a very nice chest.
"Yes!" Maul exclaimed. "I mean, no! What I mean to say is, the sex part is fine. Good even. But feelings? Sith do not have feelings!"
"Not those kind!" Maul bellowed. He thought Obi-Wan was going to cry. The Handbook was having fits over in the corner.
"I just thought, you know," said Obi-Wan, gulping audibly and scrubbing at his face with his Padawan braid. "We...we had something..."
Maul couldn't watch anymore. "Out!" He pushed Obi-Wan backward out the door and into the hall. "Sith do not 'have something'!" He slammed the door. Could his day get worse?
Maul stalked into The Grey Side of the Force and headed straight for the bar. After six more crashes and a visit from Sidious who proclaimed his Sith logo design to be "not quite what I had in mind, but I'm sure whatever you come up with next will be perfect, especially if there were more purple lightning," Maul needed a drink. And that didn't include the drink he needed from that visit from Obi-Wan. Feelings!
"Whiskey," he growled to the bartender, who already had the bottle in his hand. A glass followed it to the counter.
Maul grabbed the bottle, sneered at the glass and downed a shot. It was Friday night. Usually the night that he and Obi-Wan would habitually hook up. He took another swig. All that house cleaning for nothing!
Bah. No more would he be with that Padawan twit. He looked around for a tempting woman. Obi-Wan was probably still at home sniveling anyway.
"Hey, looks like your boyfriend has a new date," the bartender remarked.
"He's not my...what did you say?"
"See for yourself, out on the dance floor."
Maul turned slowly on his barstool and saw Obi-Wan dancing with a tall, blond, tan Jedi. What the hell? Maul had never seen the man before, but from the way Obi-Wan was gazing at him, they were close friends. Very close friends. The boy worked fast, Maul had to give him credit. He took another swig from the bottle. Make that several more swigs.
When the song ended, Obi-Wan and his friend wandered over to the bar Maul was leaning over. Maul tried not to notice that Obi-Wan was trying not to notice him. He decided to spoil that. He "accidentally" knocked over a barstool into Obi-Wan's friend.
"Whoops! Oh, hey Maul, didn't notice you there. Hey, I want you to meet an old Jedi friend of mine, Brad-Ling Pittance."
"Yeah, hi," Maul snarled.
"Very nice to meet you Maul. Obi-Wan told me quite a bit about you." The Jedi was actually smiling at him. How disgusting.
Maul took another swig and turned to the bartender, "How about a few Sarlacc Pits for my...friends here."
By Ash [no valid email address]. Click to see larger image.
Sidious approached his apprentice with caution. The gym was in shambles. Smoking pieces of Stairmasters and melted weights were scattered across the floor. Maul was standing in the middle of the carnage, lightsaber ignited, growling and dismembering a weight bench.
"Maul, what are you doing?"
Maul whirled to face his master. "I am honing my rage... what does it look like? What are you doing here anyway?"
"The manager called me when you almost decapitated the aerobics instructor. He said you'd already disposed of two of his best trainers and could I please come get my student. You realize I'll have to pay for the damages out of your allowance."
"You don't pay me an allowance!"
"And this is why!"
"My, you are in a foul mood. Let's see, what brought this on, could it be Obi-Wan's new 'friend'?"
The only answer was a growl and another swipe at the cowering pieces of weight bench. Maul had seen Obi-Wan at the Grey Side no less than three times (with Brad-Ling the wonder stud-Jedi of course), three times he'd gotten the three of them shit-faced and three times Maul had woken up alone! He was beginning to feel unwanted. It wasn't that he exactly missed Obi-Wan, it was that he was getting frustrated. Yeah, that was it. He carved a stack of 45-lb weights into three pieces.
"Maul you idiot, you're a Sith! I thought I'd cured you of this sickness of yours. Unless it's sex you're missing, in which case, I'm sure something could be worked out..."
"Master, the Handbook?" Maul prompted Sidious quickly.
"Right, right, I know. No Sith with Sith. Nevertheless, can't you think of a more constructive way to hone your rage than whacking gym equipment?"
"Master, what do you mean?"
"I shouldn't have to spell this out for you. Why are you wrecking the gym when you could be out wrecking Obi-Wan's love life?"
"Oh for crying out loud, what, were you just going to sulk in quiet and let Obi-Wan experience bliss with some unbelievably handsome blond Jedi? Please. You're of the Dark Side...who cares what he wants. Go get him! Use your jealousy, feed your anger!"
Maul stared at Sidious, then suddenly deactivated his lightsaber and started for the door.
Sidious smiled to himself, then went to console the pool boys.
As he headed back to his apartment, Maul reluctantly decided that in order to ruin Obi-Wan's new relationship, he'd need to get friendly with Brad-Ling and learn more about his history with Obi-Wan. Maybe he could find something he could use to drive the two apart. How was he going to stomach being around two Jedi? That gave him an idea, and he headed for the grocery store.
When he got home, he quickly put away the supplies and knocked on Kenobi's door.
"Hi neighbor! Brad-Ling and I are watching a movie. I think it's called Xanadu - want to join us?"
"No thanks," Maul replied, trying to keep his skin from crawling off his body. "But if you're free later, I have a new recipe to try out and I could use some guinea pigs. Oh, excuse the expression," Maul commented, glancing over at the hamster habitats. Fluffi-Wan gazed at him serenely, while Cuddles was busy staring at Brad-Ling. "Would you and Brad-Ling join me for dinner?"
"Wow, that'd be great! I've told him what a good cook you are, much better than me." Kenobi fluttered his eyelashes at Brad-Ling.
The other Jedi came over to the doorway. "Obi tells me your soufflé is almost as good as sex," he remarked with a laugh.
"Oh you. I did not!" Kenobi replied, giving his friend a shove.
"Right, well, shall we say 7:30?" Maul asked, desperate to get away and down some Pepto shots before dinner.
"Sure - see you then Maul!" Obi-Wan chirped.
Maul retreated to his apartment. For the next two hours he alternately cooked and worked on the computer. Sidious had vetoed his last four Sith-logo designs, asking for less purple lightning and more red shadows. My Apprentice was stalking the table, trying to get up there to shed on the plates, knock over the glasses, and/or lick the utensils. Every time she leaped, Maul snagged her with the Force and deposited her back on the floor.
At precisely 7:30, the two Jedi knocked at the door. For the next several hours, Maul was forced to listen to them tease and laugh at each other, although they did praise his dinner profusely. He quietly seethed, letting his anger build, mentally taking notes as Obi-Wan prattled on about the time Brad-Ling had caught him cutting Jedi Philosophy. Was that a hint of the Dark Side in the twit's past? Fascinating as that was, he hadn't gleaned any information that would help him break up the two simpering fools. Jedi had no jealousy, no hidden secrets, no insecurities. This was going to be impossible! The handbook fluttered - right, Sith did not admit defeat. He would just have to find another way.
Finally, Brad-Ling, perhaps sensing their host's growing rage, suggested they call it a night. "Well Maul, thanks for a wonderful dinner. Obi-Wan's a lucky guy to have a neighbor like you."
"Hopefully he's not going to be getting any luckier," Maul hissed under his breath.
"Oh nothing. Why don't you take some of these chocolates with you? I insist."
"Gee, thanks Maul! They are wonderful!" Obi-Wan gushed.
As the Jedi left, Maul consoled himself with the thought that the Sidibons would prevent anything from happening next door until he could come up with something else.
By the next day, Maul had a new scheme. Obi-Wan and Brad-Ling had mentioned their plan to play tennis, and he was going to be there to make sure it was an 'interesting' match.
He lurked just inside his door, waiting for them to leave. When they went past, he slipped out after them and stalked them to the courts. They weren't hard to find. For once they weren't wearing brown clothes. Instead, the white tennis shorts and shirts were almost blinding him in the glare of the sun. Why did Jedi have to be so blatantly LIGHT!
While Obi-Wan and Brad-Ling unpacked their rackets and got set up, Maul found himself an observation point. He needed to be close, but not close enough that the Jedi would see him. That impossibly blond Jedi was probably going to try and impress Obi-Wan with his athletic skills and over-developed muscles. Too bad! Maul was going to "help" him, in a very Sithly way, of course.
Brad-Ling was having a really bad game. Every now and then, Maul would use the Force to separate the strings of his racket so the ball went right through it. Obi-Wan laughed and teased Brad-Ling about the 'hole in his racket'. In the next set, Maul untied Brad-Ling's shoes so that the Jedi tripped over his feet and got tangled in the net. That plan sort of backfired when Obi-Wan insisted on kissing the scrapes on his friend's knee. Brad-Ling had a sickeningly indulgent look on his face, and Maul had trouble focusing his anger through the nausea.
When another team offered to play doubles, Maul had a great time scooting Brad-Ling around the court, slamming into Obi-Wan, spoiling their shots, and generally causing havoc. The other team quickly lost interest, but Obi-Wan never lost patience.
Maul finally managed a nice groin-pull for Brad-Ling. It was the best he could do. At least it would keep the two from doing anything too "active", and maybe get Brad-Ling a trip to the Torture Chamber of Physical Therapy. Obi-Wan was concerned about his friend's sudden attack of clumsiness, but showed no signs of being turned off by Brad-Ling's lack of grace. Maul sighed and returned home to consult his handbook. There had to be a way to break through that Jedi calm!
Sidious appeared at Maul's apartment the next morning with the pronouncement that in order to pay off his debt to the gym, he'd have to help them set up their new equipment. Maul growled. As if the Sith logo and breaking up his Jedi neighbor "sweethearts of the century" couple wasn't enough to keep him busy. He had to keep reminding himself, he was honing his rage.
The gym was hopping with the pre-work crowd and the aerobics instructor was back at work on the podium despite her near brush with death. Maul went to the free weight section. This shouldn't take long. He'd be in and out of there in less time than his usual work out.
He was wearing his nicest black sweats with the red pinstripes down the side and a plain black T-shirt. A plain black T-shirt just waiting for one of his new designs. He couldn't decide between "Sith Lords are Hot Shit" or "I am Sith, Hear Me Growl." Of course, he'd yet to find a printer who'd accept the Mind Whammy terms that Maul was requiring. He did not fear. He would prevail. Fear was his ally, after all.
He'd only managed to mangle half of the free weight room during his last rage-honing exhibition, and unfortunately the other half was still fully functional, and full of functioning humans, including Obi-Wan and Brad-Ling. The two Jedi, outfitted in the usual neutral Jedi work-out wear, were spotting each other at the bench press when Maul noticed them. Funny, he'd never really noticed those muscles in Obi-Wan's arms before.
He gave himself a little shake. He was here to work. However, an appropriately evil thought did enter his brain. There was one sure way to upset Obi-Wan's Jedi calm. Maul began hauling weight benches and weights around the room to mend his damage, working up a sweat while showing off his muscles to best advantage. He made sure to lean over to pick up a pair of 25-lb. dumbbells right in front of the Jedi while Obi-Wan was spotting Brad-Ling on his last set.
"Keep going, Brad-Ling, even Maul can lift that weight," Obi-Wan said distractedly.
Even Maul? Maul's rage got sharper.
"Nooooooooooooooo," said Brad-Ling as his arms gave out and fully-weighted barbell went crashing toward his oh-so-perfect face. It stopped just short, levitated by the contrite Obi-Wan.
"I am so sorry, Brad-Ling," Obi-Wan gushed. "I guess, I was," his gaze flicked to Maul for a nano-second, "distracted."
Maul laughed to himself, Obi-Wan hadn't seen the last of distraction. The pair moved onto the military press, Obi-Wan lifting this time.
"Obi-Wan, isn't that your friend Maul working over there?" asked Brad-Ling.
"Is it? I hadn't noticed." said Obi-Wan. Maul was sure that kind of lie wasn't in the Jedi creed.
Maul was getting close to being finished with his job, but he thought he might be meeting with some success this time. Anytime he could get Obi-Wan to even flirt with the Dark Side, he knew he was making an impression. He got ready for his coup de grace. He stripped off his black T-shirt when Obi-Wan lifted the weight for the eighth time. It should be getting heavy about now. Maul balled up the shirt and used it to dry off his exquisitely toned chest. Then he tucked the shirt into his waistband and proceeded to lift the last batch of weights.
Behind him, he heard a crash. He smiled. Aaaah, victory.
"Oh, Obi-Wan, are you okay? I really didn't expect you to give out like that. You're usually so strong. Gee, I am so sorry. Oooh, you could be really hurt, maybe we should take you to the healers. I hope this doesn't mean we're going to miss our date with Qui-Gon tonight. You know how I love games! Oh, my you've got a big scratch on your thigh. Let me get a closer look at that..."
The steady stream of sweet-nothings out of Brad-Ling's mouth was making Maul nauseous, in what should have been his moment of triumph! He looked around for a trash can to be sick in. This wasn't working out the way he had planned. All he heard were moans from Obi-Wan, where he lay beside the weight bench, barbell and weights scattered around. Brad-Ling put the weights away and then hoisted Obi-Wan up into his arms. "C'mon, I see Qui-Gon coming. We'll get you good as new in no time. Won't we Qui?"
The Jedi Master strolled through the weight room. "Oh, certainly. What has happened to my sweet young Padawan? I hope this will not impede our 'game night.' I've been looking forward to this since you arrived, Brad-Ling. I owe you for the way you simply dominated me last time you were in town."
"Yes, I certainly did give you a beating, didn't I? Well, if Obi-Wan's aching from today, we'll just prop him up on the couch and have our way with him!" Brad-Ling and Qui-Gon laughed and even Obi-Wan managed a smile from his place nestled in Brad-Ling's arms.
Maul stood dumbfounded. What kind of people were these Jedi? He had to be out of the apartment tonight. He'd give Darth Mary Sue a call. He wasn't sure even his most finely honed rage was a match for this.
Several days later, Maul was finally starting to feel a little better. He'd successfully Mind-Whammied his Master into accepting the eighteenth version of the Sith logo (the one without Maul in spandex), and he'd found a screenprinter who'd provided him a whole box of "Sith Lords Kick Ass" T-shirts (free of charge!) to go with his new one.
Obi-Wan was still hanging around Brad-Ling, despite Maul's most heinous efforts. However, Sidious had started worrying that Maul was honing his rage a little too much, to a razor point actually, and had forbid his apprentice to spend anymore time on the two Jedi. Maul would have argued the point, his rage was rather nicely honed at that, but he couldn't stand the thought of spending any more time with those sickly sweet Jedi. And he could not be held responsible for his actions if they invited him along for their next "game night."
He was sitting on his couch, playing Jedi Roadkill XIV and pretending every mangled Knight was that twit Padawan when the doorbell rang. To his surprise, it was Obi-Wan outside his door.
"Hey Maul, what's going on? Wow, nice T-shirt!" Obi-Wan squinted at Maul's chest. "Sith Lords Do It in the Dark, what does that mean?"
"I'll explain when you're older."
"Yeah, okay. Funny, that's what Qui-Gon says when ever I ask him about 'water sports'. I mean, we've done it in a pool, what's the big deal?" Noticing the vaguely nauseated look on Maul's face, Obi-Wan quickly changed the subject. "But anyway, hey, you know, while Brad-Ling was in town we haven't had much time together, and well, I hoped it wasn't because you were mad at me about our little 'talk'."
Maul growled. "We did not have a 'talk'."
"Oh sure, I was kind of hoping you'd see it that way. I realize now that I was rushing you... I mean, you probably needed some space or something."
Maul growled again. And then something occurred to him. "You said when Brad-Ling was in town...what happened? Did he finally get bored with you?" Maul asked in a sweetly sarcastic tone of voice.
"Oh no, he had to get back to his assignment. Besides, he missed his wife and kids. And I guess Qui-Gon and I kicked his butt in Trivial Pursuit one too many times the other night."
Maul felt like Obi-Wan had kicked him in the stomach. "Trivial Pursuit? Wife and kids? You mean he's not your lover?" he blurted before he could stop himself.
"Oh no way!" Obi-Wan started to laugh, "He only likes girls! Did you really think we were 'an item'?" As he took in the look on Maul's face, Obi-Wan couldn't control his giggles.
Maul seethed, then quickly seized on his anger and took action. With a mighty Force shove, he threw Obi-Wan over his shoulder, then stalked off towards the bedroom.
"Hey! Does this mean you were jealous? Ouch!" Obi-Wan shrieked as Maul smacked the tempting ass riding on his shoulder.
"Shut up, Jedi. I will have my revenge."
Obi-Wan shut up, and decided to just admire his view of Maul's equally tempting ass as the Sith growled and slammed the bedroom door behind them.
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