Third Time's A Charm

Chapter: Five

~~~~~~~~~~

"I thought I had a crush. A silly, little crush, spurred on by the rush of teenage type hormones. It wasn't until later that I realized they were more. They didn't go away."

"Silly? Gee, thanks." Obi-Wan snorted, shifting the pictures to his other arm. They kept returning to this conversation, an endless back and forth where they both tried to explain to the other what had happened between them. Looking back, he knew it had been for the best, though at the time, he had been confused and hurt, unable to figure out what had gone wrong, why she hadn't contacted him. Was their meeting now, at this point in their lives, an accident or chance? Did fate have more in store for them?

"Oh, stop it. You know I don't mean it like that. I saw what I had to look forward to and couldn't handle separation like that. If we had pursued more, and I knew we couldn't, I couldn't have coped with being parted. I can endure a lot of stress, but not in that area." Dormé paused, kicking sand. "I took the coward's way out by not acknowledging my feelings as they were at the time and not following them. I never said anything. I didn't try harder to.... I messed up, okay? I should have--"

Why let her keep going under the obvious delusion she had that their misconnection back then had been all her fault? "I messed up, too."

"What?"

"There were two of us, Dormé. Two hearts involved. One heart does not a relationship make. I messed up too. However, the fact of it is that even had we followed our feelings, we likely would have been split apart anyway." Obi-Wan stopped walking, stretching out a hand to touch her arm. "Consider that. You could not have gone with me when everything blew up and I could not have risked contacting you. Knowing what we both know now about what occurred, if we had tried for a future together we would have found...heartbreak. We could have had no future, not then."

Sadness tread her features. "Heartbreak happens."

"That it does." Obi-Wan considered the comment. 'Heartbreak happens'. Like Anakin. A brother lost into darkness and covered over by evil. Or in Dormé's case, like Tepin. A husband loved and lost. But there were also joys to balance the sadness and pain. He, personally, would always remember the happy moments from when Anakin was still a boy. A balance for what had ended their friendship. He would remember and wonder just where the break had begun inside that innocent boy and if there could have been any way to stop it.

Dormé put her hand on his, squeezed it. "What is it?"

"Ask me again sometime." He released her arm, yet kept a hold on her hand. Perhaps they should move on to a topic that didn't prick either of them emotionally. "Tell me, why did you choose that dress today? It is the same one you wore to tea, isn't it?" Was she surprised at all by his memory? Obi-Wan didn't think he'd ever forget this dress.

Her chuckle was warm and filled with mirth. "That's a story. I've dragged this dress all around the galaxy with me and when I woke up this morning, I thought I'd try it on and see if it still fit. I don't know why I felt I had to right then. It could have waited. I wasn't actually planning to wear it to meet you. Put it on, then got kidnapped. Then I nearly got groped by a lecherous old man who claimed he wanted to marry me and rescued by a friend."

"Are we friends, Dormé?" He held his breath a little in anticipation of her answer.

She squeezed his hand. "I'd like to think we still are, despite what happened."

He made a noncommittal noise and let go of her hand, examining the dress. She still filled it out beautifully. "Maybe you should take off the dress." When she stopped and raised a brow, he knew he should explain the suggestion. He hadn't meant it in a lewd manner. Obi-Wan shifted his shoulders beneath his tunic. Or had he?

"I beg your pardon? I'll do no such thing." She tugged the bodice a bit higher. "We don't really know each other that well, Obi-Wan, and in the desert at this hour? I'd be sunburned to a crisp in unmentionable places in no time." The pink on her cheeks deepened.

A smile tugged the corners of his mouth. "I didn't mean it that way. What I meant, was that you don't seem to have the best of luck while wearing that dress. The last time you wore it, we were kicked out of a museum, a zoo and then mugged. You've already mentioned what occurred this time."

"Oh." Her smile was embarrassed. "I see. You...think my clothing is cursed?"

"In short, yes. I'll share my shirt. I'll turn my back and you can slip out of the dress and into the shirt. We'll leave the dress in the sand. Keep wearing it and who knows what will happen? We could be attacked by sandpeople, trampled by wild banthas, caught in a sand storm." The thought of her wearing his shirt and little else added more sweat to his brow. Obi-Wan pasted the most casual, benign, harmless expression he could muster on his face.

Her slow sideways glance indicated she still thought he was trying to charm her clothes off of her for naughty purposes. "I can't run around with bare legs," Dormé remarked, hands flipping the panels so that her legs were briefly exposed.

"It won't be much different than what you're wearing now." Not that he was complaining about her legs. They were nice legs, very shapely.

Dormé stared at him, then smiled again and laughed, shaking her head side to side. "I'll leave the dress on, thank you. If something else dire happens, I'll consider the curse idea a bit more valid."

More walking in silence. The sunlight was merciless. Obi-Wan was used to sweating up a storm, but this was ridiculous. He felt as though he'd been swimming, his clothes fast becoming drenched. Hopefully, someone -- not Palamon -- would come along soon, though he didn't have any hopes in that direction. He hadn't passed any traffic whatsoever on his way out here.

"Your bag was in my speeder," he told her. She should know what had happened to her things. Yet another matter they'd have to take care of.

"The big guy who took me said you ran off with it, though I wonder if he had someone watching you or if he was trying to discourage me. I need to go back to the room anyway. I hadn't packed the rest of my things."

"The rest? I saw nothing more out that the nightgown and robe." Both of which had been yards and yards of fabric. Many more than her dress.

Her gaze shifted in the same manner he'd seen when questioning criminals and they didn't want to give an honest answer. "I had...stashed a few things in the room for safety, in case someone broke in and stole my bag."

"Oh." He cocked his head, listening. It sounded like there could be a vehicle heading their way. Not from the direction of the house they'd left. From the spaceport. Miracle of miracles "You do realize someone may be waiting for us there? One of your abductor's associates?"

She frowned, but didn't reply, and when the speeder did appear, it was being driven by a teenage boy who readily agreed to give them a ride into the port in exchange for not telling his old man he'd borrowed the speeder. The boy spent more time watching Dormé's cleavage than looking where he was going and it was with much difficulty that Obi-Wan refrained from using the Force to help with the driving. He was grateful when they were safely out of the speeder and on their way to Dormé's room.

~~~~~~~~~~

Val's vocabulary was getting quite a workout today. Palamon had decided that Val needed the proper incentive to keep from just lifting off and leaving the pictures stolen. With good reason, if Val could bear to admit it. He'd planned to let Dormé and her accomplice go free. The port authorities had other ideas, thanks to old Palamon. They'd painted Val a really good picture of what would happen if he didn't cooperate.

He climbed the stairs to Dormé's room, muttering all the while. When this matter was taken care of, he was never coming back to Tatooine. Forget it. It was too much trouble. Mom would just have to come visit him for a change. Once he was off this rock, he was never coming back. He searched Dormé's room, finding the credits she'd stashed and a few other items, but leaving them all where she'd put them. Then, he settled down to wait. She should be back any time, he figured.

~~~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan was right. There was someone waiting in her room, just not the threat he believed.

Val was lounging in the chair by the window she'd been abducted from, one foot propped on the bed. He had a bottle in one hand and a blaster in the other. The blaster was pointed directly at them. "Babe," he acknowledged her with a nod, then gave a nod in Obi-Wan's direction. "Babe's accomplice. What's say you both step on in, shut that door there, and we three have a nice, friendly little chat?"

Dormé stepped into the room. Val's features were set in a stony expression she well remembered. This wasn't a social call. It was a job.

Obi-Wan followed her, carefully setting his cloak and the cloth wrapped pictures on the bed. She glanced at him, appraised him as she knew Val was doing and wondered what had happened to his lightsaber. Hadn't it been on his belt? It wasn't there now and he looked perfectly at ease, as though this chat was going to be just what Val had said: nice and friendly.

Val sighed. "You've put me in an awkward place, Dormé, and it's not a place I particularly like." As he spoke, he watched Obi-Wan with interest. "Step away from the cloak, if you please. Men with cloaks very often have something to hide."

"Do I make you nervous," Obi-Wan asked, unmoving.

"Take a few steps toward that dark haired beauty on your left and I'd feel a tad better about this meeting."

With exaggerated care and a widening taunting smirk, Obi-Wan took a step towards her. "Is that better?"

"Beautiful. Dormé babe, come on over here and join me in a drink." Val took a long pull from the bottle.

"Looks to me like you've already had enough." Closer, it was obvious he'd been nipping at the bottle while he'd waited. His steady gaze was merely because he was having a little trouble focusing. He must have been waiting awhile, she thought, because Val doesn't get soused easily.

"Don't you worry on my sobriety. I could still shoot your man there in the head without looking."

Dormé pulled a second chair towards him. Consciously, she decided to work her wiles a bit. Val was a sucker for a female form -- any female form -- and he'd looked her over more than a few times with appreciation. Perhaps she could distract him. She crossed her legs so that one leg was exposed halfway up her thigh and leaned towards him a little. "Val--"

"She worry on you," he asked Obi-Wan with a frown, barely giving her a look. "She's like some kind of mama animal half the time, dispensing comfort and bandages and words of caution. She mothered my crew and they loved it."

"Did she?"

"Let me handle this," she said to him, almost able to feel the pure testosterone rising in the air. Obi-Wan's displeasure was obvious. His lips were tight, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. "Please."

Obi-Wan's reply was the lift of a brow, then a fierce frown. What, she wondered, was he so unhappy about?

Val held out the bottle, gaze slipping down to touch upon her chest. it lingered for a couple seconds before moving back up. "A little drink and then we'll get to discussing the particulars of my visit."

Taking the bottle, Dormé drank a big gulp and handed it back. "Drink taken. Get on to explaining." The liquor settled with a warmth into her empty stomach.

Val chuckled, rested the blaster in his lap and sighed once more. "Why didn't you tell me about this con, babe? Heck, I wouldn't have asked for much of a cut of the profits. Seeing old uncle Palamon with his pants in a twist over dirty pics just about had me dyin' of laughter. But then he told me to take care of it. Told, not asked. I'd just about decided to let you go and claim you were untraceable."

"What changed," she asked, watching resignation slip across his features.

"The old boy squeezed me, got the port authorities involved. There's a deal going on that if I bring you and the goods in, all charges of misdeeds on part of me and my crew will be dismissed."

"And you believed that," Obi-Wan said, derision in his voice. He gave a short bark of laughter.

Val shook his head. "Not a word. My uncle doesn't really want to attract Hutt or Imperial attention, but he's not averse to directing their scrutiny my way if he thinks it'll help him somehow. He could make this region unpleasant for me in the future, family by blood or not."

"I see." The warmth of the liquor was spreading out through her body.

"You're a smart gal, babe. I thought you would. Say, what's your man's name? I'd like to know the name of the man I might have to kill here soon."

"You can try," Obi-Wan said. "You won't succeed."

"I hit what I mean to."

"Better than you have tried."

"That's what they all say."

"I say what I mean. Much better than you have tried."

"Prove it, old boy."

As though Val wasn't about Obi-Wan's age himself. Dormé swung her foot in slow circles.

"Old boy? I could whip your ass from here to Coruscant without breaking a sweat."

"I'm betting you're all talk, no action."

"Shall we do this here or outside?"

Dormé nipped a drink from the bottle and rolled her eyes. Boys would be boys, yes? She knew this ritual could go on for hours if she didn't step in. She'd bet that right now they were both all talk, since neither one looked inclined to actually move a muscle. Val remained lounging in the chair and Obi-Wan was still standing in the middle of the room. "Will you two just introduce yourselves and fight later?"

"Ben Kenobi," Obi-Wan said a nod.

Ben? Where did he get that name? It actually wasn't too bad with Kenobi.

"Val Kallin," Val returned.

"Isn't Val a woman's name?" Though a pleasant enough query, Dormé detected a fraction of antagonism in Obi-Wan's voice.

"It's short for Valiant. My mother has overdosed on romance fiction most of her life. My little sister is named Perseverance. My brothers are named Honor, Courage, Wisdom, Mercy and Big. Some sort of virtues or something. If there's a better nickname for Valiant, then enlighten me, because my brothers and I searched through them all and Val made the most sense."

"Knightly virtues it sounds like. Valiant, honor, courage, mercy, wisdom.... Big? That's not one of them that I'm aware of."

Val shrugged. "I don't know. Dad says she was real drugged up when Big was born and that was all she'd say, so he figured it was her choice for a name and gave the okay. Big was the last of us. Mom got herself taken care of after that and to this day, she laughs hysterically whenever anyone asks her what it's like giving birth."

Dormé shook her head at the conversation and crossed her legs. "Could we get back to the subject? I don't plan on rotting in a Hutt dungeon or Imperial cell for the rest of my life." However long or short that might be, she added silently. If the empire caught her, she was certain it'd be short.

"Neither do I, babe," Val assured her. "So you see, we've got a situation. It's either me or you and your man Ben here, unless you've got another option spinning about that pretty little head of yours."

She thought a moment. Was there anything about their problem that could be used to their advantage? Would the truth help or hinder? She turned her gaze to Obi-Wan in a mute appeal for help. Maybe he could come up with something.

~~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan didn't like the way this man looked at Dormé, nor did he care for the intimate tone this Val person used when speaking to her. He didn't like the man and it had nothing to do with what he saw and heard. It was instinct. Sheer, competitive instinct like he hadn't felt in years. Besides, Obi-Wan wanted to share that tone with Dormé and those sort of familiar looks.

He gave his head a shake, admonishing himself to keep his mind on the problem and not on the rivalry rising between him and Val. The problem, Kenobi. Think only of the problem and let the rest of it work itself out later.

But it was very hard to do that when Dormé kept leaning over in that low-cut dress and Val kept taking an eyeful. He frowned. What was Dormé doing, or thinking she was doing? Didn't she know the kind of ideas a man could get when a woman behaved like that?

She looked up at him.

"No plan, babe," Val asked.

"Did your uncle tell you what happened?" Obi-Wan walked to them and sat on the bedside. Had Val even been told the truth? Could it change things?

"Yeah. He said Dormé stole his dirty pics."

"There's a bit more to that story...Val."

"Do tell...Ben." Val held out the bottle. "Have a drink to wet your whistle."

"Don't mind if I do." He took just as big a gulp as Val had been taking. "You see, Dormé and I had plans for today--"

"I'll bet," Val interjected.

Dormé rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop it. Don't think you're being clever, because you're not. They weren't the sort of plans you're thinking."

"But your uncle decided to kidnap her instead. I followed to rescue her." That summed it up nicely.

"Uh-huh. And steal the pictures. I get it. It was a good con."

"We didn't steal them," Dormé said. Her voice went cold and flat.

"Course you did, Babe. It was a good con too. I wish I'd thought of it."

Dormé stood, stomping one foot on the floor. "No! It wasn't a con, you drunken idiot! That man had me drugged and carried from this room, then taken to his home out in the middle of nowhere. When I resisted his proposition, he had me put in this room with all these...pictures."

Obi-Wan watched her working herself into a state the longer she talked and wasn't quite quick enough to keep her from moving his cloak from the cloth holding the pictures and dragging them over. She opened the knotted ends and spread the pictures out.

"These pictures. How did they get here? Why? They shouldn't.... I couldn't believe that they were.... They were taken by two people who loved each other very much. They shouldn't be displayed for that...that...disgusting bantha spawn to leer at." Grabbing up two of them, she clasped them to her breast almost protectively.

He turned to gauge Val's reaction. There had to be some way to salvage the situation to the benefit of all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dormé was awfully insistent that it wasn't a con and knowing Uncle Palamon's ways, Val wasn't surprised to hear she'd been kidnapped, though he did find it a mite hard to believe that she hadn't intended to steal the pictures to begin with. However, there was something about her voice and expression.... She was too upset.

He stared at her thoughtfully, taking in her wide eyes, trembling mouth and the way she clasped two of the pictures to her heaving bosom. He blinked, understanding dawning beneath the liquor fog in his mind. He could kick himself. It was so obvious. "Oh babe." He cast a glance towards the rest of the pictures. They were pictures of Dormé and her husband. No wonder she was so protective of them. The memories that must be coming back to her! He could imagine how painful it had been for her to see her pictures on Palamon's walls. "You must miss him fierce."

"Of course I...what?" She dropped back into her chair, eyes going even wider. "I..."

Ben got up from the bed and went to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "So you understand why she was upset to find them on a stranger's walls -- a stranger who'd abducted her for nefarious carnal purposes. Private pictures, meant to remain private, displayed there for all to see."

All well and good and something Val understood. Intimate matters between a man and his wife should remain so, except.... He scratched his temple. One thing didn't really add up. "Course I understand, but now let me ask you...if these pics are so private, then how did that camera they were from end up in a junk heap on Coruscant with the memory card intact? Seems to me those pics would be erased or the card removed and kept in a safe location." His attention on Ben, he heard Dormé draw in a sharp choking breath. When he looked at her, she'd hunched over, face covered and back shaking.

"Lost in the move," she managed in a strangled gasp.

"Oh." He understood that too. Some moving companies had the worst employees, rifling through clients belongings and stealing from them. He would have removed the memory card and just taken the camera, but some people had no respect for other's belongings.

"They are rightfully hers," Ben said with a slow smile.

Val had the idea that some kind of fast one was being pulled here, yet couldn't figure out what it could be. "That won't fly here. Just about everything on Tatooine has been stolen by someone at one time or another and likely two or three times before reaching its current location. Stolen means nothing."

"Yes." Ben's hand touched Dormé's hair. "Why not simply buy the pictures and throw in some professional pictures to sweeten the deal?"

Val laughed, then stopped. "You're serious."

"Of course I'm serious," Ben replied, hand lowering to sweep Dormé's back in long, gentle strokes. Comforting, like an old...friend.

Yeah, these two were more than just friends, he decided. That touch was too friendly. They had something going on between them. Val waited for an explanation of Ben's words.

"Everything has a price. Surely these pictures have one." Ben's tone was reasonable and calm.

"Probably, but they won't be cheap. No," Val shook his head, as an idea leapt into his mind. It was genius! "I got a better idea. We'll nix buying them because I really don't want to contribute to Unc.'s pocketbook." He waved a hand. "Here's what we'll do instead. You listening Dormé?"

She nodded, head still down and back still shaking.

"We'll replace the pictures," he grinned "with exact duplicates."

There was silence for a long moment, then Dormé began sobbing harder and Val thought he must be hearing things, because it sounded a lot like laughter. He ignored her and returned his attention to Ben, who was watching him in return with an expression that indicated he hadn't thought Val could come up with such a genius plan.

Val grinned wider, also ignoring how the room had begun to spin in slow, lazy circles. "So, Ben, you obviously had a gal in mind. Who ya thinking?"

"I know a pretty dark haired young woman who might be interested in modeling for a few photos. She's mentioned that extra funds are always welcome. I believe she's a few streets over from here at Madame Leelee's."

"Leelee's," he repeated. "Who do you know at Leelee's?"

Dormé gave a noisy gulp and was silent. Was she holding her breath?

"Her name is Resa."

Val was instantly on guard, but forced himself to relax. Resa was a grown woman and she could deal with whomever she chose. She had good taste, since she'd often chosen to spend hours with him, so he supposed this Ben guy couldn't be all that bad. "Oh Resa. Yeah, she's a fun gal."

"Yes."

That little word brought his hackles rising. Not the word itself, but the way it was said. With familiarity. He gritted his teeth. "I'll go see if we can get an appointment. She might be all booked up though. I'll be back in a bit."

Val lurched to his feet, grabbed his bottle, and went in search of Madame Leelee's.