Author's Note: A little slash-y, but not explicit. I suppose you could read it unslashily if you really wanted to ... but where would be the fun in that?

Disclaimer: Search your feelings. You will know it to be true: I do not own Star Wars. Also, I am not making any profit from this work of fanfiction, which could be why I'm broke. Send me feedback, ease my pain?

Show Me Those Moves

He's so beautiful, our young Jedi prince. I watch him spin and turn again, lightsaber flashing, and see the quiet pleasure in a job well done as he disarms Master Drallig.

"Well, done, Padawan," Drallig tells him, and Ferus smiles his bright smile. It's a good smile -- wide-mouthed and unaffected -- and I feel it in the pit of my stomach. He has something: an innocence I can't even remember, a purity of soul and intent that all Jedi should have and few ever attain.

He sense me watching and turns the smile on me, and I begin to feel it other places, too.

"Were you waiting for the mat, Master Vos?"

I'm so busy watching him that it takes a moment for his words to register. "Wha -- oh. No, Ferus, that's fine. I was just ... enjoying the view."

Terrible line, I tell myself, but Ferus smiles again anyway, apparently not picking up on the double entendre. That would be the innocence working.

The light streaming in through the windows catches the gold streak in his hair.

I clear my throat. "Um, actually ... I was wondering if I might trade places with Master Drallig for a moment? I know a couple of moves you might like."

I sound like a dirty old man. Ferus appears not to notice, his smile widening, and dimly I hear Master Drallig consenting gracefully.

Ferus takes a step back and sinks into a fighting stance, grinning. "Show me those moves, Master."

I raise my practice saber. All right, Ferus.