A Vacation ... Where?

“Okay. I put the shower curtain back up and fixed the faucet, but the sink is a total loss. Hopefully they won’t notice. And didn’t hear when it came off the wall,” Anakin said as he walked out of the bathroom.

Danielle looked up from where she was sprawled on the bed. “Meh. They make enough money, I’m sure they can repair it.”

He threw himself on the bed next to her. “So, what’s next on the agenda, now that we got the pressing ‘sex’ issue out of the way … again?”

She snickered. “Well, we can go shopping, and then maybe hit some of the clubs around here.”

“Clubs?”

“Music. Dancing. Drinking. All engineered toward getting people to hook up with each other.”

“Ahh.” He grinned. “Sounds like my kind of fun.”

“That may be, but you’ll want something besides denim and a polo shirt. Let me get dressed and we can go.”

*

“Why didn’t you just buy the store?” he snarked as he carried their bags upstairs.

“Well, I didn’t think the gimp suit really fit you,” she retorted. “Quit bitching, it can’t possibly be that bad, and don’t think I didn’t notice you looking around while we were there.”

He stuck his tongue out at her back while she unlocked the door, then smiled innocently as she stepped aside to let him pass.

Snatching his bag, he disappeared toward the bathroom. “I still say I’m not wearing this in public.”

She threw a pillow at him. “Just go change.”

While he was in the bathroom, she threw off her t-shirt and skirt, wriggled into the lace-up leather pants and top, and fixed her makeup. She was putting on her boots as he walked out of the bathroom.

He posed dramatically … to no effect, because she wasn’t watching him.

“Ahem!”

She looked up and dropped the boot she was holding. “Oh … my … god.”

He looked a little uncertain. “It’s good?”

She stood and walked over to him. “Good? Babe, this is fucking _hot_. I’ll have to beat girls away with a stick.”

“What are we beating them away for?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m not even going to answer that. Although, while you’re distracted by the girls, I can entertain a circle of guys.” She winked.

His brow furrowed. “You’re kidding, right?”

She laughed and shook her head. “You have some of the wildest mood swings I’ve ever seen.”

Anakin smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I know.” He looked in the dresser mirror. “You know, I’m thinking this haircut and these clothes really don’t go together.”

She glanced up from buckling her boots. “Oh?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” He studied the mirror for a moment longer, then ran his hands through his hair. As Danielle watched, wide-eyed, his hair grew out to his shoulders.

“Now that was a cool trick!” she exclaimed.

He grinned. “Every once in awhile it comes in handy. How do I look?”

She scrutinized him, then tossed him black eyeshadow and a small eyeshadow brush. “Get the brush wet, dip it in the shadow, and line your eyes. Then we’re good.”

After he was done, she nodded. “Okay. That works. Let’s go, I’m tired of sitting around.”

“Where’re we going?”

“There’s this club I really like, called Noise. You’ll like it.”

*

As they walked up, Danielle eyed the long line and sighed. “Looks like … wait. Can’t you do that Jedi Mind Trick thing?”

“What, to the bouncer? Sure.”

They strolled past everyone else, eliciting a chorus of boos and snide comments from the people in line.

“You don’t need to see our identification,” Anakin said.

“I don’t need to see your identification,” the bouncer repeated.

“We can go on in.”

“You can go on in,” he repeated, leaning over to unlatch the rope.

Danielle turned to blow a kiss to the line, much to the ire of the crowd.

Inside, she grabbed his arm and pulled him close to make herself heard over the music. “I’m gonna go grab a drink; you wanna come?” Watching him ogle the chicks was enough of an answer for her; she shook her head in exasperation and headed toward the bar as he wandered into the crowd.

“Bacardi O3, please,” she shouted to the bartender. He smiled, nodded, and tossed her one. She caught it, left her money, and turned back around. Leaning against the bar, she surveyed the crowd, looking for Anakin.

She was only able to guess she’d found him by the crush of girls over in one corner. They were jockeying for position close to the center of the circle, where every once in awhile she could see a toss of dark-blond hair. Danielle rolled her eyes, then settled back onto a barstool.

“Lose My Breath” came thundering out of the speakers, and she saw a girl with purple and platinum streaks pull Anakin out of the corner to dance with her. This spurred about 15 other girls to attempt the same thing, until he was surrounded in a swaying feminine mass … and grinning like a Cheshire cat about it.

A few shots, 6 Bacardi O3s, and 4 Long Island iced teas later, she decided, “Two can play this game, bastard.” She downed the last of her drink and made her way to the dance floor.

She’d gotten about two steps onto the dance floor when two guys came up to her. The blond got behind her, while the dark-haired one stepped in front of her. With hands on her hips and her shoulders, they began grinding in time with the music. By the end of the song, they’d attracted a sizable crowd.

A few songs – and not a few drinks – later, “Dirrty” came pulsing through the club. Danielle grinned, and the crowd started moving again. Halfway through the song, the mass of people suddenly parted, as though shoved with invisible hands. People unfortunate enough to be in the middle stumbled and fell as everyone was jostled around.

Anakin strode through the crowd, a petulant look on his face. He approached the ten or so people in the center of the circle, and motioned dismissively at the women; they suddenly looked confused and wandered off. The guys were Force-shoved halfway across the dance floor, landing in a heap with the people caught in their path.

Danielle turned to him. “I’m sorry; can I help you?” she asked icily.

“What are you doing with them?”

“I’d guess that I was _dancing_, Anakin.”

“You were all but fucking them right out on the dance floor!”

“Can you please explain how that was different from what _you_ were doing with all those women?”

“Don’t turn this back on me! You always do that!”

“Well, maybe if you held yourself to the same standard you apparently hold me to, I wouldn’t be able to! And don’t come out here acting like you own me when you couldn’t even be bothered to _talk_ to me once we got here!”

“You could have come over!”

She snorted. “And what, joined the Court of Anakin Adoration? Please. Don’t hold your breath waiting for the day I _fawn_ over you.”

“Fine!” he shouted, and stomped away.

She shook her head and turned back to the people actually _dancing_, as opposed to standing around watching the little drama unfold. Suddenly, she was swooped up and tossed over Anakin’s shoulder.

Rotating her body upward, she bit his shoulder as she kicked him in the side. He yelped and dropped her. Danielle landed in a crouch, then stood as he spun to face her. She grabbed his shirt and yanked him close.

“Don’t you _ever_ fucking treat me like your goddamned property, Anakin Skywalker,” she hissed, emphasizing each “ever” with a sharp poke to his chest. “Don’t you _ever_ expect me to just fucking nod and say, ’Whatever you want’ when you lose your temper. And don’t you _ever_ fucking think for a _second_ that I’m going to be a little wilting flower. If you want demure, you for damn sure won’t find it here. And if you can’t _handle_ a woman like me, just say so. I’ll be outside whenever you’re done here.” She turned on her heel and melted into the crowd.

Outside, she made her way to the corner of the building, took a deep breath, and punched the wall. Hard. “That goddamn, motherfuckin’ … what an asshole! Who the fuck does he think he is? I don’t fucking give a rat’s ass if he’s the fucking ruler of the entire goddamn galaxy. What kind of shit does he think he’s pulling? He takes ’flinging testosterone‘ to a wholly new and intolerable fucking level! I just want to fucking strangle him sometimes!” She hit the wall again, heedless of the blood now running down her knuckles.

As she stood there staring at the wall and trotting out every curse word she’d picked up in the military, she felt someone grab her ass. She whirled around, fists already up to beat the hell out of whoever had had the temerity to grab her.

No one was there.

“Oh, what in the hell?” she muttered. “Whatever. I don’t care.” She moved around the corner … just in case. As she rounded the corner, the laces on the left side of her shirt loosened. Danielle looked down, then looked around again.

“This isn’t funny,” she mumbled. She almost had the laces retied when the other ones loosened. Danielle threw up her hands and slouched against the wall. “I’m not even going to bother anymore.” She scowled again. “God, he is so _frustrating_! I could just – whoa!” Her rant was cut off as the laces in her shirt split and the shirt slid off her shoulders. She tried to snatch it but missed, and just stared at it in disbelief as it fell to the ground. As she peered around, something – “It feels like a hand; fuck it, I’ll call it a hand,” she thought – ran rough hands over her breasts and down her torso.

“What the hell is happening to me?” she whispered. To her mingled disbelief and suddenly flaring anger, she got an answer.

**You are gravely mistaken, love. I take _what_ I want … _when_ I want.**

Danielle’s response was lost as she felt him caress her ass underneath the leather. She moaned and arched forward involuntarily as he moved across her folds and began rubbing lazy circles around her clit. Her leg started shaking as she felt something large and pulsing push against her slickly wet opening, and her head bounced off the brick wall as she was shoved upright.

**And I’ve decided that I want to hear you scream. Now.**

Her head started throbbing from the strain of holding back the scream triggered by the sudden, rough penetration. She bit her lip hard enough to send a trickle of blood down her chin, but she didn’t make a sound. She could feel his frustration, and permitted herself a tiny, self-satisfied smirk.

**You’re only making this more difficult on yourself,** she felt him snarl.

Her patience had been wearing thin the whole night, and it finally snapped. She was done playing nice. “If this is the real you,” she hissed through clenched teeth, “then I can see why you were betrayed at every turn.”

She felt an obliterating black rage roll through him, and shrank back against the wall as the thrusts jarred her. Strands of her hair fell when he pulled it, and bruises blossomed on her arm where he held her against the wall. Tears ran down her face as she shrieked against the back of her hand, and the pain and anger mingled when she felt his surge of conceited satisfaction. He withdrew wordlessly and she slid down the side of the building, collapsing into a shaking huddle by the corner.

*

She awoke to the sharp sting of rubbing alcohol being dabbed over the raw patch on her arm, and looked up to see Anakin, brow furrowed, tending to her. She slapped his hand away and stood up.

“I ought to just leave your ass here, Anakin Skywalker.” She advanced on him, until he’d backed up to the window of the hotel room. “I’m going to say this as clearly as I possibly can: I don’t give a shit that you’re the leader of your galaxy. I … don’t … care. If anything, you should have a _higher_ standard of behavior than the rest of us! See, there’s this saying we have around here: ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ I guess they don’t have a similar equivalent on Coruscant.”

“Well, not exactly,” he mumbled.

She shook her head. “But I digress. I don’t care who you are, or what position you hold. I don’t know who encouraged the idea that you can just _take_ whatever you want, but I’d hazard a guess that it wasn’t your mother. I give you a place to stay, let you drive, take you shopping, take you out partying, and how do you thank me? You put your vast and varied powers to use raping me!”

“I didn’t think ….” He trailed off.

“You didn’t think what?”

“I didn’t think it would end up like that. But you taunted me!” he added defensively.

“Maybe, but is that an excuse for what you did to me?” At that, he looked away from her; she had to grab his chin to turn his face back to hers. “Anakin, I understand you’re not perfect. I don’t expect you to be. What I _do_ expect is for you to treat me with the same respect and dignity I show you. If you can’t, we’re going to end this friendship now.” He didn’t answer, and she continued. “I realize that no one ever makes you take responsibility for your actions. You blamed your turn to the Dark Side on Palpatine, and rationalized it with ‘I was trying to save my wife’. You blamed your lack of progress on the Jedi, and not on your lack of maturity.”

“I’m sure it’s a lot easier to see these things when they’re not happening to you,” he mumbled.

She nodded. “That may be, but you still weren’t honest with yourself. And you will never progress until you understand that _you_ choose what path you take; no one else is responsible. _You_ made the decision to act on your jealous impulse, and it ended up with me lying unconscious in an alley.” She stepped back and put her hands on her hips. “So, what is it going to be?”