Home Sweet Home
by joan the english chick
[Read Joan's author bio]
Disclaimer: The boyz belong to George Lucas, and he'll get them back just as soon as we're done playing. This story was originally conceived as a sequel to "Maul Vs. Thin Walls," and as such, it is dedicated to my Evil Twin (Katherine the Art Chick) and her boyfriend. They may not be quite as noisy as Qui-Gon and (whomever), but they're just as scary. ;)
Maul awoke with his face buried in a sweaty neck, and a pounding in his ears. It took several minutes for him to realize that the pounding was actually on the door, and that the voice accompanying the pounding was yelling "Fire!"
"Urg?" said Maul blearily, and then he blinked and shook Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Wake up, for Hoth's sake."
"Urg?" said Obi-Wan blearily, and went back to sleep.
Maul shook him again. "Come on, wake up!" Obi-Wan ignored him. His eyelids twitched.
Maul growled in irritation and shook Obi-Wan hard enough to rattle his teeth. "I said wake up! The building's on fire!"
"Shite!" Obi-Wan complained muzzily, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. "That's the fourth time this month, innit?"
"Third," Maul amended. "Remember, the one on Tuesday was a false alarm."
"Oh yeah. Fuckin' Wedzies."
Jedi and Sith clambered out of bed and pulled on their leather pants, grumbling. "Goddamn fuckin' clumsy neighbors," Obi-Wan groused.
"Shit!" Maul complained as he stubbed his toe on Obi-Wan's dresser. "You know, you take forever to wake up. You could probably sleep through an Imperial Death March." He wandered into the living room, looking for his shirt.
"I would've woken up faster if someone hadn't tired me out last night," Obi-Wan sniped back, following him. "Awright, we heard you already!" he howled at the still-pounding door. "Get lost, ya wanker!"
"Obi-Wan, the building's on fire!" came the tremulous voice of Jon-Tra Vol-Ta from the hall.
"Yeah, yeah, we're gettin' out," Obi-Wan called back, hopping on one foot to pull on his boots.
"I better warn My Apprentice, just in case," Maul decided. He was too sleepy to be truly Sithly, and besides, if the cat survived, and Maul hadn't warned her, things could get ugly. He went back into the bedroom and poked his head through the wall into his own apartment. "Yo, the building's burning down again," he called.
Goddamn fuckin' clumsy neighbors, the cat complained, wiggling out from under the sofa where she had been engaging in guerilla warfare with a colony of highly evolved dust bunnies. She hopped through the hole in the wall and up onto Maul's shoulders, levitating a couple cans of tuna from the kitchen as she went.
Obi-Wan was stuffing his hamsters into the breast pockets of his studded leather jacket. "Ready?" he asked. Maul grunted irritably in reply. They left Obi-Wan's apartment and headed for the stairwell.
The stairwell was packed with panicky neighbors, and also a fair amount of thick black smoke. Maul coughed and grimaced. "Looks like a real fire this time," he commented sourly. Obi-Wan looked equally displeased. They both shut up and conserved their energy for the forty-two flights of stairs.
Several minutes later, Maul and Obi-Wan leaned against Obi-Wan's speeder, catching their breath, as firefighters poured into the building and distressed, pajama-clad neighbors milled around like sheep. Above their heads, flames shot impressively out of the windows on the thirty-somethingth floor. The firefighters pointed their hoses upward.
Maul stared blankly at the flames and wished he had caffeine. Obi-Wan wriggled his hips, grooving to a beat only he could hear, singing softly under his breath.
"Baby's on fi-yah, better throw her in the wa-tah," he crooned. My Apprentice growled and sharpened her claws on Maul's shoulder. He gave an annoyed yelp and grabbed at her, but she leapt to the pavement and sat innocently washing her paw.
Obi-Wan scanned the crowds idly. "No sign of Cynthia," he commented.
"Good," Maul grumbled. "I hope she perishes in flames."
"Hey, she's on our floor. If she goes, so does our stuff."
"Hmm," Maul grunted, reconsidering. "Well, maybe the smoke will overcome her in the stairwell."
"Yeah." After a moment, Obi-Wan said reluctantly, "Someone should probably make sure she's okay."
Maul looked at him incredulously. "After she had you sent to the Happy Farms? You're going to rush into a burning building to look for her?"
"Well, no... but..." Obi-Wan wavered indecisively. "Well, do you want her death on your conscience?"
"Sorry, gentlemen," said a fire marshal, approaching them. "This building is way under code. Seven fire violations in the past month!" Maul and Obi-Wan exchanged a surprised look. Seven?? "We're going to have to close the place down while the owners get a crew in to bring it up to code," the man continued. They looked at him blankly.
"Well, get going then!" Maul growled. "What are you waiting for? Get the crew in there!"
"How long will it take?" Obi-Wan interjected. The man shrugged.
"Oh, not too long. Two, three weeks."
Maul blinked, then stared. He felt the rage building within him. "Weeks?!" he bellowed, but the man had already moved on. Maul glared at Obi-Wan, the nearest animate thing. "Weeks?!" he yelled again. The padawan shrugged, unmoved.
"Hey, no need to yell at me, Maul. Fuckin' building's a tinderbox, you know that."
"Obi-Wan!" called a voice, and a rumpled-looking Qui-Gon approached. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at Maul.
"I heard what happened and came right over," Qui-Gon said solicitously. "Is everything all right?"
"Fine, master," Obi-Wan said sarcastically. "Just my building burning down, is all."
"Well, how long will it be before they let you back in? We wouldn't want this to interfere with your training," Qui-Gon added virtuously. Maul snorted. Obi-Wan's expression remained bland.
"They said three weeks, master."
"Three weeks?! Who said?"
Obi-Wan jerked his head in the direction of the fire marshal. Qui-Gon stalked off.
"Shit," Maul exclaimed, as reality suddenly intruded into his sleepy consciousness. "Where the hell am I going to stay for three weeks?"
"With my Da?" Obi-Wan suggested. Maul shook his head.
"He's off campaigning on Alderaan or some crappy planet like that." He sighed in annoyance. "What about-"
Just then, Qui-Gon returned, looking angry. "Goddamn bureaucrats," he complained. "Obi-Wan, where are you going to stay for three weeks?"
"Um...in your guest room, master?" Obi-Wan suggested sweetly. Qui-Gon blanched.
"Uh, yes, of course, it's only right. It's my duty to you as my padawan."
"And Maul's coming too," Obi-Wan said firmly. Qui-Gon looked even more alarmed.
"Obi-Wan, I don't think that's a very good idea. Your Jedi training-"
"Master, it's the duty of every Jedi to help those in need, in whatever way he can," Obi-Wan pointed out. "It's in the handbook."
Maul's eyebrows rose. Jedi had a handbook? Learn something every day, My Apprentice commented.
Qui-Gon sighed uneasily. "Well...all right. But only until that nice Senator Palpatine returns from his campaign trip." He glanced around. "The fire marshal said they were going to let you back in, floor by floor, to get a change of clothing. It could be a while, so I'm going back home. I'll see you there when you arrive." He turned and departed.
"Well, better get moving," Obi-Wan said cheerfully. Maul put up his hands in protest.
"Waitaminnit. You were kidding, right? You don't actually expect me to spend three weeks living under the same roof with you and that aging hippie freak?"
"Maaaaul," Obi-Wan crooned, "come on, there's nowhere else to go. And you don't want me alone there with him, do you?" He batted his eyes viciously. Maul scowled.
"I am not living with a Jedi," he declared firmly. "Um, I mean, not that Jedi. I'll get a hotel room."
"You don't have any money," Obi-Wan pointed out. "You've already maxed out Ben-Wa's credit card."
"I'll go to the mall and sleep on the lawn furniture in Nubian-Martian. I'll sleep in the alley behind the Grey Side. I'll-"
"Shut up, you idiot," Obi-Wan said amiably. "You're with me, and that's final."
Maul started to protest again, then sighed and shrugged. It was true, after all--he had nowhere else to go. Although, if it got to be too much, sleeping in his car might be an option.... Forget it, My Apprentice told him firmly. Sith do not live in homes with wheels. Check the Handbook.
"Come on," said Obi-Wan again. "I'm cold, I'm tired, and I need caffeine." He smirked. "Plus, you haven't done anything about my morning hard-on yet."
It didn't take long to Whammy the fire marshal into letting the 42nd-floor residents into the building first. Maul grabbed his most timid pair of jeans, a few extra Sith Lords Kick Ass t-shirts, and a sixpack of Pete's. He noted with sorrow, but with fatalistic lack of surprise, that his PlayStation had been thoroughly drowned by the firefighters' water and was completely dead. The Sith Handbook was just slightly damp and a little smoky, but it refused to come down from atop the refrigerator, so he left it there. He poked around a little looking for Dirk Syde, but it was nowhere to be found.
Meanwhile, Obi-Wan was grabbing some extra clothing, his biggest jar of lube, and Cuddles' bottle of Perkium. He hesitated for a moment in front of the fridge, finally deciding regretfully to leave the ice cream, but taking a sixpack of Guinness. By the time they reached the ground floor again, it was a fivepack.
Qui-Gon's house was a nightmare of love beads, lava lamps, and pastels. Maul hadn't realized it was possible to tie-die furniture. The guest bedroom, to Maul's extreme dismay, was all creamy pastel shades of purple and pink, with frilly lace everywhere, from the comforter on the four-poster bed to the lampshades to the throw rugs.... "Argh!" Maul snarled, hands twitching with the desire to rend, tear, and shred. Obi-Wan grimaced.
"I stayed here a couple times before I turned 18," he commented. "Jaysus, I actually liked this room! Those drugs seriously fucked me up!" He threw himself onto the bed and bounced. "The bed was awfully comfy, though...."
Maul was trying to decide whether to jump the Jedi's bones or go off looking for caffeine when a familiar smell tickled his nostrils. "Hey, do I smell pot?" he asked, sniffing the air. Obi-Wan sniffed too, and rolled his eyes. They went out into the hall.
My Apprentice was rolling around on the hall carpet in feline ecstasy. Catnip! she sent.
Maul snorted and stepped over her. Stupid cat.
"Maul, where are you going?" Obi-Wan demanded.
"To find that long-haired pervert and steal his stash, where else?"
"Aren't you listening?" Obi-Wan asked, jerking his head toward Qui-Gon's door. Now that he mentioned it, the moaning from behind the door was distinctive.
"Oh! Yes! Sail on silver, girl!" cried the ecstatic voice of Mace Windu.
"Won't you please please me," groaned Qui-Gon's deeper baritone.
"Oh shit," Maul said in disgust. "You mean I have to listen to Jedi screwing all day again? And I thought all that was behind me."
"Sorry." Obi-Wan shrugged, unperturbed. "We got three choices: sit here and listen, go make some noise of our own... or...."
"Or?" Maul growled suspiciously.
"Or knock on the door and invite ourselves in," Obi-Wan smirked. "Unless you're scared of Qui-Gon's weapon. Have I mentioned that it's bigger than-"
"Stop!" Maul clapped his hands over his ears, gouging a large chunk of flesh out of one palm when he accidentally caught it on a horn in his haste. "I'm not listening!"
"...and the diameter of..."
"I said stop! I'll rip out your tongue and feed it to my cat!" Maul warned, although of course the threat held little weight. He liked Obi-Wan's tongue just fine where it was.
"... sort of like the color of..."
"I'll tie your vocal cords in a knot and use them as dental floss!"
"... almost as long as..."
"Stop! I'm begging you!" Maul stuck his fingers even deeper into his ears and squinched his eyes shut for good measure. After a moment, he became aware that Obi-Wan's voice had stopped. He unclenched his eyes and found the Jedi giving him a cryptic look.
"Uh oh." Maul took his fingers out of his ears. "What are you looking at?"
Obi-Wan's eyes twinkled. "You said 'I'm begging you,'" he observed mischievously. "I'm liking that idea."
Uh oh. Sith do not beg, My Apprentice pointed out helpfully. Maul ignored her.
"Dream on," he said to Obi-Wan, shoving him back into the ghastly frilly room and slamming the door.
Obi-Wan giggled as his ass hit the bed. Maul landed on top of him, closing his eyes again in an attempt to avoid seeing the hideous décor. His hands fumbled with the button on his leather pants. Obi-Wan squirmed underneath him, making it even more difficult, but eventually they were both naked, and the squirming became more like writhing. Obi-Wan flipped them over so that he was on top, and leaned down to apply his tongue to Maul's nipples.
Suddenly, the Jedi gave a loud yelp, startling Maul out of his lustful and sleep-deprived haze. Obi-Wan sat up, looking befuddled. "It bit me!" he yelled.
"Huh?" Maul managed, sitting up as well. He followed Obi-Wan's gaze to where My Apprentice sat on the floor, glaring balefully at them.
"It bit me on the ass!" Obi-Wan cried in annoyance, twisting around in a vain attempt to examine his own rear end. My Apprentice narrowed her eyes, and not in the good way.
You damn humanoids do it all wrong, she sent angrily. Let me out!
Maul jumped up and opened the door. The cat stuck her nose and tail in the air and trotted out, just slowly enough to raise the blood pressure. Maul slammed the door thunderously behind her.
"I think she drew blood," Obi-Wan griped, rubbing his ass. Maul turned him around and looked. There was no blood, but there were four neat, dark-red tooth marks. Hmm. Why hadn't he ever thought of that?
"Maul, what are you-" Obi-Wan exclaimed, but the rest of the sentence was muffled by the pillow as he hit the bed face-down. Maul bent over him and applied his teeth.
"Aah!" Obi-Wan shouted, arching his back, but not in the bad way. Maul slithered across the sheets and slid his body underneath the Jedi's.
"Now, where were we?"
Much later, Maul said to Obi-Wan, "By the way, if I ever invite myself into an orgy with Qui-Gon and Mace Windu, just lightsaber me in half, will you?"
Obi-Wan frowned cutely. "But I left my lightsaber back at the building."
"Well, use Qui-Gon's or something."
"Well, okay, but I'm keeping your bottom half as a souvenir." He leered.
From next door came a series of loud rhythmic thumps and a voice calling "Ooh! Yes! I am a rock!" Obi-Wan and Maul both winced.
"Shit, they sure have a lot of stamina for a couple of old farts," Maul complained. Obi-Wan nodded.
"Wanna bet we have more?"
On a table in the corner, Cuddles and Fluffi-Wan burrowed deeper into their nest of shavings, and put their paws over their ears.
Much later, Maul stumbled down the hall looking for My Apprentice and heard voices in the kitchen. Lingering, he eavesdropped gleefully.
"...care less what the two of you are doing," Obi-Wan was saying blithely. Dishes rattled. Someone grunted.
"Jedi do not lie, young padawan," said Mace Windu's smug voice. Obi-Wan snorted.
"Oh, yeah, right, I forgot," he shot back. "They sleep around, do drugs, and Whammy people into doing what they want, but they don't lie."
"You're jealous because I'm with Qui-Gon and you're not."
Obi-Wan laughed nastily. "Why would I want him when I've got Maul?"
"That freak?" Mace laughed back. "I doubt he has half the stuff Qui's got."
"You couldn't take me if you tried," Maul snarled, stepping into the kitchen. Obi-Wan giggled unexpectedly.
"Oh goody! Testosterone fest!" he said, putting down a plateful of tuna for My Apprentice.
"Honey, you'll get over Qui-Gon soon enough," Mace said, ignoring Maul and putting on a fake sympathetic look, which was somewhat spoiled by the stoned glaze over his eyes. "You just gotta realize," he went on, "that the man needs someone who understands him. Someone mature, someone who knows what he needs and can give it to him." He leered suggestively and walked out.
"Bitch," Obi-Wan muttered at his back. Maul soaked up the animosity filling the air. Hey, this might not be so bad.
Moments later, when the thumping and moaning resumed, he cursed himself for that thought.
A week later--a week filled with loud, sweaty, pot-smoky orgies, an increasingly sulky Obi-Wan, and no Darth Lara Croft--a desperate Maul was on the comlink to Sidious. "Master," he pleaded, trying not to whine, "you have got to get me out of here. Send me the code to your security alarms and let me stay at your place."
Aboard the Palpatine Campaignmobile, Sidious put on Sympathetic I-Feel-Your-Pain Look #24. "Oh, I am so sorry, Maul," he oozed. "Unfortunately, the alarms are coded to my fingerprints. I'm afraid you're going to have to stay right where you are."
"At least give me some horrible, menial, degrading task to perform that will get me out of this house," Maul entreated. "I have nothing to do but sit around and endure the Jedi. This 'spring break' idea of yours is not working."
Sidious chuckled dryly. "Why, Maul, it sounds like living with Qui-Gon is truly helping hone your rage and hatred," he observed smarmily. "Good, good. Perhaps by the time I return, you'll be ready to rise up and strike me down and take my place." He laughed heartily at his own joke. "See you in two weeks!"
Maul beat his head against the cute little nightstand in the guest room. (He and Obi-Wan had done their best, covering the furniture and floor with discarded clothing and pizza boxes and empty beer bottles, but somehow the cloying cuteness still peeked through. Maul didn't hold out much hope for the small colony of beings in one pizza box; they had gotten as far as inventing the wheel, but hadn't yet figured out what to use it for.) He didn't know if he could stand another two weeks of Qui-Gon's hypocritical routine--serene Birkenstock-wearing, nature-loving, all-forgiving Jedi Master by day, wanton sex fiend by night--not to mention the bland diet of vegetables, tofu and brown rice that was all he kept in his kitchen. Besides, so much time listening to Qui-Gon and Mace Windu-hoo-hoo screw like crazed weasels was making Obi-Wan irritable. Even screwing Maul like a crazed weasel didn't seem to cheer him up. It was intolerable.
"Maul!" Obi-Wan said desperately, poking his head in from the hallway and raising his voice to carry over the moans from next door. "It's Friday night. Let's go to the Grey Side."
"Great idea!" Relieved, Maul jumped up and pulled on his tight leather pants. They escaped together, leaving the front door unlocked in hopes a burglar would come by.
Two hours, several dozen bad karaoke songs, and a large number of beers later, Maul and Obi-Wan were finally beginning to forget the horror that was Mace Windu's latest kink (Maul didn't know if he'd ever be able to eat meatloaf again) when a suggestive voice from their feet said, "A sorry-looking pair, you two are! Hanging out with Qui-Gon and Mace, you are not?"
"No thanks, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan said firmly. The little Muppet scowled.
"Enhance your training it would. An excellent master Qui-Gon is. Learn much from him you can."
"Learn this," Maul grumbled, his foot flashing out to boot the obnoxious little drunken master across the room. Squealing, Yoda landed in the laps of a group of Wookiee transvestites, who giggled and bought him another beer.
"This sucks," Obi-Wan announced. "I'm going back to my place."
Brightening, Maul tagged along after him. "But what about the cleanup crews? And the code violations?" he goaded gleefully.
"I'm a Jedi padawan with a criminal record as long as my arm, a taste for leather and hard rock, and a tattooed freak of a boyfriend who thinks he's a Sith," Obi-Wan pointed out. "I'm about as code-violating a guy as you're gonna meet."
Maul had to admit this was true. "Well, okay, but if the fire hoses got into our bedrooms, you're sleeping on the wet spot."
They returned to their building to find the repairs half-finished, but at least their apartments were mostly dried out. Maul sank down on his sofa with a sigh of contentment.
"Shouldn't we go back to Qui-Gon's at some point and get your cat?" Obi-Wan asked, fetching them both yet another beer. Maul shrugged.
"Nah, she knows the way home. She'll come back when she gets sick of the contact high."
Obi-Wan plopped down on the sofa next to him. "Thank God. Maul, please tell me Qui-Gon and I never sounded like that."
Maul shot him a sideways glance and made no comment. Obi-Wan groaned and drained the rest of his beer in a single gulp.
"Shit." He tossed the empty can over his head; it landed in the midst of a pizza box civilization that had just begun to recover from the Great Flood. Subsequently, they were able to construct a spaceship from the aluminum can and escape to the balcony.
Maul picked up his dead Playstation joystick and regarded it sadly. After a moment, he let it fall to the floor and looked over at Obi-Wan. "Wanna fuck?"
Obi-Wan looked indecisive. "Well..."
"Well? Whadya mean, well?" Maul demanded, sitting up a little woozily. Whoa, maybe that last beer was a mistake. "Do you wanna fuck, or not?"
"Maul, don't be such a moron, of course I want to fuck," Obi-Wan grumped, "but I'm worried about Cuddles and Fluffi-Wan. I don't like leaving them alone with that crowd for too long. What if Mace Windu passes out, and Qui-Gon gets desperate?"
"Ewww," Maul opined, trying to erase the mental picture.
"Yeah." Obi-Wan staggered to his feet, swayed a little, and made his way to the door. "We can come back after we rescue the hamsters."
"Whadya mean, we?" Maul retorted. "I'm staying here. On my couch. Sweet couch...I missed you so..."
"Maul, you're a disgusting drunk," Obi-Wan said, grabbing an arm and hauling Maul to his feet. "Hey, you come help rescue my hamsters, or you're not gettin' any."
Maul sighed in annoyance and followed the Jedi out the door.
It was full dark by the time they returned to Qui-Gon's place, but the bedroom was lit up and the usual noises emanated. Maul and Obi-Wan snuck as quietly as they could manage into the guest room, evaded a pizza-box colony that had just discovered the joy of sticking sharp sticks into each other, and retrieved the hamsters.
As they stole back out into the hallway, they spotted another figure just as stealthily creeping toward the bedroom door. "Jon-Tra?" Obi-Wan whispered. The figure turned.
"Obi-Wan?" Even in the dark, they could see the blush creeping across the other padawan's face. "Um..." he said, and then ducked quickly into the bedroom. The noises almost immediately increased in volume.
Maul and Obi-Wan shuddered as one, and hurried to the front door.
They were just getting into Obi-Wan's car when something about the street filtered into Maul's consciousness. "Hey...wait a minute," he slurred, leaning against the car and looking around. There, next door, was his master's house. And there was his master's personal car. Okay, his master was back early. He was sure there was a reason he'd be angry about that later. But right now...he frowned deeply and tried to concentrate. What was wrong with this picture?
"Hey, Da parked his car in the wrong driveway," Obi-Wan said in confusion. There was a long pause before the clue-by-four hit both of them at the same time.
"Ewww!" they said in unison. The noises they had just been hearing from Qui-Gon's bedroom seemed much more...perverted, in retrospect. They shuddered.
Maul looked at his master's car sitting in Qui-Gon's driveway. Car, he thought. Garage door opener, he thought. Garage. Door opener. Door. Garage door. Door to house...
Minutes later, he and Obi-Wan were relaxing in blissful, warm, soothing, QUIET solitude, in the comfort of Sidious's jacuzzi. "Oh, yes," Maul sighed as the hot water bubbled around him. "Oh, YES," he added, as Obi-Wan's wet hands slipped under the water and around him.
Oh, no, complained My Apprentice, scratching in vain at the heavy door that separated the hallway--where she was--from the den--where Obi-Wan had stashed his hamsters. I WILL get you, sooner or later, she vowed. Behind the door, Fluffi-Wan folded his paws and closed his eyes in meditation.
My Apprentice sighed, and curled up on the hall carpet, settling in for a long wait.
Email the author
To the Chronological Story Index
To the Author Story Index
Return to the Sith Academy Homepage
Back to Siubhan's House of Horror