Of Badasses, Councils, and Luck
Title: Of Badasses, Councils, and Luck
Rating: PG
Summary: Between the Sith and Anakin, Buffy's predicament has been shoved to a distant third on the Council's list of things to do.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and related characters; George Lucas owns "Star Wars" and related characters; I own nothing.
Note: Part of the Distance and Time series.
Prompt: "Examine" for tth100
Word Count: 754
Series Master List
“Buffy?” Obi-Wan’s voice dragged her out of her reverie. She looked up from her folded hands and met his concerned gaze. She winced slightly as she shifted her weight on the stone bench she was sitting on. “You’re still waiting to see the Council?”
“Yeah,” she answered with a sigh. “I think they’re still discussing the whole Anakin situation and the bombshell that you and Qui-Gon dropped on them about the Sith. Trying to figure me out got bumped to a distant third on their list of things to do.”
“They’re still testing Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, sitting down next to her on the bench, a small frown on his face. Buffy didn’t have to be one with the Force or anything like that to know that he was less than thrilled to hear that. There was something going on, other than that he thought that Anakin wouldn’t make a good Jedi because of age--she’d heard him talking to Qui-Gon on the ship when they thought she was sleeping. Although, now that she thought of it, they might’ve known and just not really cared that much.
“Yep,” Buffy answered, popping the “p” at the end. “Mister Clean looked like he was ready for a barrel of laughs when he came to get Anakin.”
“Mister Clean?” Obi-Wan asked, a confused look on his face. Buffy surpressed a sigh. She needed to stop with the pop culture references that no one but her understood. They just made her miss home even more than she already did, and she didn’t want to be all-weepy in front of this new council she had to deal with.
“Bald, black, tall, looks like he’s taken a level in badassery,” Buffy explained, hoping she was being detailed enough.
“Are you talking about Master Windu?” he replied, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips. Buffy shot a sidelong glance at him, a grin slowly spreading across her face.
“Master Windex? Seriously?” she asked, humor in her voice. Oh, man, the name-age potential with this man. She didn’t know if she just had been on the wrong end of a bad day or not, but the guy had looked like he had a stick up his ass further than either Ben or Qui-Gon, reminding her slightly of the jerks at the Council back home. And yeah, while the Council here possibly had the knowledge to send her back home, they didn’t really scare her as much as the Watchers did. There was something slightly less fanatical (from what she’d heard, at least) about them that soothed the soul.
“It’s Master Windu,” Obi-Wan corrected, a hint of warning in his voice, causing Buffy to roll her eyes at him. “And please treat the Council with respect while you’re in there talking with the Council. Not all Jedi are like Master Qui-Gon,” he added, eyes narrowing in a glare at Buffy’s reaction.
“Let me guess, he’s all maverick-y and against the grain?” Buffy knew there was a reason why she liked the older man so much, even when he was trying to make her spill things she didn’t want to. Between him and Ben, she had been on her toes the entire flight from Tatooine to Coruscant. Sometimes it was better to keep things close to the chest.
“He has been known to take a unique view to being a Jedi, yes,” he answered, his voice becoming guarded and losing some of its earlier warmth. Buffy suppressed a sigh as the door to the Council chamber opened, revealing the small form of Anakin Skywalker.
“They’d like to see you, Buffy” the boy told her. Buffy slowly got to her feet, all of a sudden wishing she could sit in this bench a little while longer.
“Wish me luck,” she told Ben, turning back to face him as Anakin walked over to take her vacant spot on the bench.
“There’s no such thing as luck,” he answered solemnly.
“If there’s no luck going around, what is there, then?” Buffy asked. Ben only smirked at her.
“Why, the Force, of course,” he replied, a teasing note in his voice. Buffy rolled her eyes again and, shaking her head, walked towards the lion’s den.
“Stupid smart-ass Jedi,” she muttered, standing outside the room full of the people who were about to decide her fate. Or at least tell her whatever the hell was going on. She’d settle for either one at this point. Taking a deep breath, she took her first step into the Council chamber.
Rating: PG
Summary: Between the Sith and Anakin, Buffy's predicament has been shoved to a distant third on the Council's list of things to do.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and related characters; George Lucas owns "Star Wars" and related characters; I own nothing.
Note: Part of the Distance and Time series.
Prompt: "Examine" for tth100
Word Count: 754
Series Master List
“Buffy?” Obi-Wan’s voice dragged her out of her reverie. She looked up from her folded hands and met his concerned gaze. She winced slightly as she shifted her weight on the stone bench she was sitting on. “You’re still waiting to see the Council?”
“Yeah,” she answered with a sigh. “I think they’re still discussing the whole Anakin situation and the bombshell that you and Qui-Gon dropped on them about the Sith. Trying to figure me out got bumped to a distant third on their list of things to do.”
“They’re still testing Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, sitting down next to her on the bench, a small frown on his face. Buffy didn’t have to be one with the Force or anything like that to know that he was less than thrilled to hear that. There was something going on, other than that he thought that Anakin wouldn’t make a good Jedi because of age--she’d heard him talking to Qui-Gon on the ship when they thought she was sleeping. Although, now that she thought of it, they might’ve known and just not really cared that much.
“Yep,” Buffy answered, popping the “p” at the end. “Mister Clean looked like he was ready for a barrel of laughs when he came to get Anakin.”
“Mister Clean?” Obi-Wan asked, a confused look on his face. Buffy surpressed a sigh. She needed to stop with the pop culture references that no one but her understood. They just made her miss home even more than she already did, and she didn’t want to be all-weepy in front of this new council she had to deal with.
“Bald, black, tall, looks like he’s taken a level in badassery,” Buffy explained, hoping she was being detailed enough.
“Are you talking about Master Windu?” he replied, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips. Buffy shot a sidelong glance at him, a grin slowly spreading across her face.
“Master Windex? Seriously?” she asked, humor in her voice. Oh, man, the name-age potential with this man. She didn’t know if she just had been on the wrong end of a bad day or not, but the guy had looked like he had a stick up his ass further than either Ben or Qui-Gon, reminding her slightly of the jerks at the Council back home. And yeah, while the Council here possibly had the knowledge to send her back home, they didn’t really scare her as much as the Watchers did. There was something slightly less fanatical (from what she’d heard, at least) about them that soothed the soul.
“It’s Master Windu,” Obi-Wan corrected, a hint of warning in his voice, causing Buffy to roll her eyes at him. “And please treat the Council with respect while you’re in there talking with the Council. Not all Jedi are like Master Qui-Gon,” he added, eyes narrowing in a glare at Buffy’s reaction.
“Let me guess, he’s all maverick-y and against the grain?” Buffy knew there was a reason why she liked the older man so much, even when he was trying to make her spill things she didn’t want to. Between him and Ben, she had been on her toes the entire flight from Tatooine to Coruscant. Sometimes it was better to keep things close to the chest.
“He has been known to take a unique view to being a Jedi, yes,” he answered, his voice becoming guarded and losing some of its earlier warmth. Buffy suppressed a sigh as the door to the Council chamber opened, revealing the small form of Anakin Skywalker.
“They’d like to see you, Buffy” the boy told her. Buffy slowly got to her feet, all of a sudden wishing she could sit in this bench a little while longer.
“Wish me luck,” she told Ben, turning back to face him as Anakin walked over to take her vacant spot on the bench.
“There’s no such thing as luck,” he answered solemnly.
“If there’s no luck going around, what is there, then?” Buffy asked. Ben only smirked at her.
“Why, the Force, of course,” he replied, a teasing note in his voice. Buffy rolled her eyes again and, shaking her head, walked towards the lion’s den.
“Stupid smart-ass Jedi,” she muttered, standing outside the room full of the people who were about to decide her fate. Or at least tell her whatever the hell was going on. She’d settle for either one at this point. Taking a deep breath, she took her first step into the Council chamber.