where Sue and Mary come to some revelations about vacation, horntips and pigs!

Mary & Sue
Or the Tragical History of How Allah Sent Us a Camel
and What Happened Next

Written by Mary and Sue (of course!)

 Chapter four

Nightshift: Sue's POV

Originally I had expected to have the second night watch, but the Sith refused our ministrations, not even Mary was allowed to be around him for longer than few hours. Our disappointment died after Qui-Gon deemed it wasn’t really necessary to stand sentinel over the patient’s sleep. The healing session of the first day had had a remarkable effect, so he told. I agreed with Mary that our fallen dark side angel would be very grateful to us for not paying too much public attention to his pain and weakness. Well... grateful in his own, sithly way.

And so it was — after the abovementioned two days Maul was totally acclimatized and could eat everything. And he ate a lot!

One night I was awakened by a light rustle in Maul’s room, and the sound of a door opened and closed. Quickly I slipped into my shoes and followed him, fearing that he might not be well and, as was his nature, conceal it from everybody else. I went out through the porch and around the house to the kitchen door, saw light in the window and stepped in.

He was making a sandwich. A huge one, from what I could tell. “Sorry to disturb,” I said sheepishly, “I was just worried. Want some tea?”

He looked up, fixed me with an intense stare and returned to applying generous amounts of butter to his bread. “Yes.”

So I put the kettle on and sat shivering, hunched, by the table, watching him eat. By the time tea was ready he had made another sandwich. And he drank his tea with three spoonfuls of sugar.

“Maul, I didn’t realize you needed more food,” I said. “You could have just said so. You can always have as much as you need.” And made a mental note to go and rob the nearest ATM in town. With the amounts of food we had to buy now, our bankruptcy seemed imminent, if Mary didn't get the paycheck from her latest contract anytime soon.

I sat at the table, peering at our Sith lord through my eyelashes. The silence was somewhat uncomfortable and I wracked my brains trying to find a suitable conversation topic, something innocent and impersonal, hopefully one where Maul would contribute more than monosyllabic answers. Just as I was opening my mouth to ask whether it was true that the scavenging banthas' meat was indeed considered a delicacy, Maul’s hand stopped halfway to his mouth. “Are you and your friend farmers? It’s a small farm …”

Despite the fact that the discovery of having yet another mind-reader around made me somewhat uneasy, I had to hide a smirk. Attack is the best defense, indeed, I should have guessed. “No, we’re not farmers. This is a summer house. Mary and I are on vacation.”


“That means we’ve worked for a time and then take our granted spare time. When it’s finished, we go back to work.”

“Who granted it? Your owner?”

“We have no owners,” I declared. “We are our own persons.”

Maul smirked.

Now I asked: “Is there nothing like vacation in your world?”

“Yes. The military have it. It’s not the same, but similar.” He paused, chewing his sandwich thoughtfully, then continued more energetically: “For the civil world spare time is rather connected with religious feasts. For some the spare time depends on their owner. Droids and slaves.” He stared at me baring his teeth in a grin.

“Mary and I are freelancers. Like … like … like bounty hunters are. We earn money. And this is our vacation. No duty. No tasks. Just freely doing what we like.”

Maul decided to retreat “Yes. The writing and Intell... Internet business. Mary told me.”

As if on a cue, Mary opened the door, her gaze wandering from me to Maul and back. “Nightshift?”

But the sudden amount of attention was obviously too much for our Sith Lord. With a muttered “Thanks” and a curt nod to Mary, he left abruptly.

“Duh,” I said, staring at the closed door. “Vanished. And we were just starting to have a grand time.”

Mary yawned and rubbed her eyes.

Horntips: Mary’s POV

Sue looked at me and repeated my question: “Nightshift?”

“Jam session,” I answered, “If you can brew a triple mocha.”

Smiling, she put the kettle on again. With the mugs, milk and sugar I settled down before the computer.

I had already checked my mailbox, when Sue appeared in the living room with the coffee-pot smelling promisingly.

While I slowly supplied my sleepy brain with the first dose of caffeine for this session, Sue skimmed through her mailbox. “Later. Later. This is … Later. This is ... A short one.” She sent me an apologetic look and started writing. It was ok with me, because my brain was still in hibernation mode. I proceeded with the awakening by drinking a second cup of coffee.

“Now. I’m ready.”

When I’m tired, my jaws are locked. I gestured for her to settle down comfortably at the other end of the couch. Sue curled herself into the pile of pillows I had left for her and purred, “Got a nice mental image yesterday. Coffee, please.”

Still mute, I gave her a mug, poured myself a third one and decided to test if a high-energy fuel like sugar would have a better effect on my dull brain. To have two guests in the house — one of them in bad condition — sucked more than I’d realized, submerged over the last days in the care for Maul, supporting Sue with household and entertaining Qui-Gon.

“Let’s hear your image, Sue.” Ah, well, sugar worked fine.

Sue began: “Maul sleeping under a blanket, with only tips of horns visible — cute, isn't it? Makes me want to cuddle…”

“Cute indeed,” I grinned lasciviously, trying to imagine it. “Suppose he is naked under the blanket … Shall we have a look? But sloooowly! Drag the blanket slowly down, so he won't wake up.”

My Sue nodded. “He is lying on his belly, with an arm under his cheek. You pull the blanket further down and have an irresistible urge to run your hand over his … side … Is he ticklish? But the skin feels warm … and smooth. You run your finger upwards, over the hills and valleys of his muscled back, over his powerful black shoulder, to the ear … the left ear. With the silver stud. So soft and tender on the stark muscled body of this black warrior … His eyes — you almost jump. His eyes — or rather, one eye, the other is hidden behind his arm — is open, watching you.”

I could hardly suppress a giggle. “Yes, you almost jump. But you gather yourself immediately and pretend not to see he’s watching. You also pretend not to hear his breathing quicken as your fingers continue their excursion up to the crown of horns. Hard, sharp horns surrounded by soft tissue. Indeed soft, warm and obviously sensitive. Why not take a seat beside him. Carefully – some distance must be left between his and your body. Not too much, just enough to feel the warmth of his body — you’re naked too.” Here Sue arched a brow. “From this point you see the line his spine forms from the neck down the back — so elegantly made that you can’t resist reaching out to touch him again. You run your fingertips down it. At some point you must turn your body a bit. Your hips, your belly lean softly against his side. Then your curious fingertips reach the barrier, the edge of the blanket. Shall I write it down?”

Sue gestured ‘not yet’. “You press your palm to his body, feeling the warmth of the skin, the hardness of his well-trained muscles beneath it … Your hand slips under the blanket. For a moment you stop at the point where your third finger touches the small depression where his cleft begins … then you move sideways, over his hip to his muscular thigh. You feel his muscles ripple under his skin and tense for a moment, as he adjusts his position, turning more on his side. You spread your fingers and move your palm back upward … across the front of his thigh. You feel your little finger brush slightly over … something …”

Uh, that was becoming hot. I let out a sigh.

“Go on …?” Sue asked teasingly. “Does the blanket fall down finally?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” I could also be teasing when I wanted, evil me. Turning my face with a delightful expression — so I hoped — to the ceiling, I waited until I heard Sue moving impatiently. Okay, I am a merciful soul.

“The blanket doesn’t fall down. Suddenly you are dragged under it. You find yourself under his body, his intense gaze staring into your eyes. Well, obviously this was not too unexpected for you, because your legs are wide open, so he has all comfort he could wish for. His stare softens, he smiles and lowers his head. In the moment your lips meet, he enters. With the whole length of…”

“I wonder, Mary,” Sue eyed me curiously. “Would you, under favourable circumstances?”

“Sure. Although,” I added, seeing clear doubt in Sue’s features, “I don’t know how good my chances are. You’re probably well in advance with your handsome hippie.”

“Ack! Don’t mention Qui.” She almost blushed. “Besides, I meant rather … technical problems.”

“Physical incompatibility?!” I made my voice pitching high in feigned disappointment.

“Nah, Mary!”

I insisted. “You make me cry. Incompatible! Sue … By the way, when have you found that out?”

“I’m not sure how healthy it is actually to try to find out.”

Sue was right, this was an issue to ponder on. “Infections? Highly unlikely. If there was a possibility, the boyz or we would already be sick — after this long time we’ve spent together. Eating, speaking, holding hands.” I couldn’t deny myself another attempt to make Sue blush again.

“The same runs for becoming pregnant?”

“Hmm … Unlikely. Our contraceptives plus the genetic barrier. They are aliens.” I shrugged.

Sue tilted her head. “Unlikely, but not highly so … They are alien, yes, but that doesn’t necessarily mean there is a genetic barrier and that could mean contraceptives have no effect.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I know, this gives the old adage ‘No risk, no fun’ a complete new meaning.” Anyway, we did not belong to the faint-hearted, I thought. I was well aware that Suz had just ended up with the same conclusion: wait and see. So I resumed the matter at hand: “Let’s continue. I’ve the infallible feeling you think we’re proceeding too fast.”

Sue nodded. “How about this: you explore the discovery your little finger made — first with one finger, then with two, at last taking it into your hand. The skin of his member feels like silk, as you caress it softly. Then it lies full and hard in your palm. And now you get the sight of all his glory — Maul has rolled onto his back, the blanket has fallen down.”

Without taking time for breathing — that I could hardly afford anyway at the moment — I continued. “Oh, this studied innocence: eyes now closed, the shadow of a knowing smile running over his features. He rests comfortably, one arm supporting the neck, the other idly stretched. His cock, full erect, looks lonely. You decide to console the lone hunter and straddle Maul.”

“Wait, not yet,” Sue took the relay baton. “Kneeling over his hips, you take the penis and tease yourself, searching in his features for a sign of … awakening. You play until the tip of the joystick is wet with your juices. You can’t stand to wait any longer, you lower yourself on him. At once Maul's hands grab your buttocks. His eyes are wide open, he smirks, all his features say, ‘Gotcha. Now you are where my desires say you belong.’ Like a trapped bird you flutter, riding on his …”

The words died in Sue’s throat. She stared at a point behind me. The point where the door to the kitchen was. I turned my head and froze: our Jedi stood at the door.

Qui broke the uncomfortable silence with a little cough. “I beg your pardon for interrupting your talk. I didn’t realize it’s a private one. I heard your voices and thought I had the opportunity to speak with you.”

“… Oh no. No, no, you’re welcome. Anytime.” Sue was gathering herself together amazingly fast, except the embarrassed flush on her face. “Take a seat and spill it out.”

I shook my head at Sue. I had no idea how long he had been listening to our fantasy; however, some Sithly tactics would now come in handy. “Before we get in medias res, I think we owe you an explanation. You may have witnessed some … outspoken words. That has to do … Sue told you, we’re here on vacation to write stuff. We’re artists … Admitted, spare time authors, but artists. So please consider all you may have heard from artistic aspect. It is nothing personal. And now,” I felt how the burning in my cheeks vanished word by word, “what’s your request?”

Qui-Gon’s eartips pinked slightly. “Your... khm... other guest is getting better. I’ve noticed he’s able to walk around. But still he is not entirely healed — it’s even possible he never will be. And it is also likely that his stubbornness will make matters worse again.”

“What do you mean?” Sue frowned.

He sighed. “The severe injuries have been a strain on his system, and his insistence to constantly draw on the Dark Side, at the same time being unable to release it, may affect his heart.”

I felt a tinge of ice hurt my heart and at the same time amazement about the unperturbed kindness of the Jedi.

“Because of that,” Qui-Gon continued, “we are at a dilemma. On the one hand, it is imperative that we try to make it back home as soon as possible. Besides, we would not want to impose upon you more than strictly necessary. Not to mention it might cause you problems. At the same time, he is clearly not ready for the strain – remember what happened when he tried to fight?”

“So what are you going to do?”

He seemed to hesitate. “Actually, I’m not entirely sure. I dare not leave you alone with him – even though, at this point, he seems to keep his end of the bargain well, and not plot ill against you. Perhaps a few more weeks of rest, and then proceed as well as we can, with all care.” The tall man rose. “That’s all I wanted to tell you. I just thought you should know. I won’t disturb you longer. May you have an inspired work and good night.” With this less than clear explanation he left us alone.

Seeking confirmation for my thought that his reaction indicated how much we had shaken the famous Jedi-calmness with our erotic talk, I turned to Sue. For a moment she stared dumbly at the door, then at me, and spat, “You ijit, you just ruined my sex life!”


“You! Made me look like a fool!” Leaving a trail of scattered pillows behind her, she too left. Obviously she was not amused.

Poodoo! No one loved me, no one understood me. No human, no Jedi, no Sith. A look at the computer told me that even the archangel of network communication didn’t love me. The connection had broken and no trick could resurrect it. To make the number of my punishments full, I decided to deny myself the solace of a can of beer.

I gathered myself up from the couch and went back to bed. Not wanting to disturb Sue, I took the longer way through the yard and the glass porch. It was fairly warm and clear. In the stillness of the night I thought I heard something. For a moment it almost sounded like… a man’s voice sighing in pleasure? How fucking appropriate, I thought, then shrugged it off, went upstairs and slipped into my bed. Tomorrow would be another day. Most likely.
Flattery: Sue’s POV 

As Qui had predicted, the Sith was now up on a regular basis, although he tired easily. With studied casualness, he loitered about in the house, looking around, peeping into all the rooms, with an odd expression on his face. Finally he landed in the kitchen where we three sat over afternoon tea.

He acknowledged our presence with a curt nod.

“Want something, Maulie?”

He shook his head and sat down at the table with us, his yellow eyes studying our every move.

“You never told us what actually happened to you, Maul,” Mary said. “How did you end up here?”

“I fell,” Maul said curtly.

“Oh. I thought you flew. Where’s your famous Infiltrator, anyway? You do have such a ship, do you?”

Maul glared at the Jedi. “Yes, that is certainly something I would like to know too.”

Qui-Gon put the spoon calmly down before answering. “You see, I managed to take his ship from him when he fled. So the ship I’ve mentioned to you is the very same Infiltrator.”

Mary squealed excitedly. “Yay! I wanna see your ship! I wanna fly it! I’ve never seen a spaceship, let alone your famous Infiltrator.”

“Where is my ship?” Maul demanded.

“It’s some way from here. Don’t worry, it is still in one piece. Well, mostly,” Qui added.

“What do you mean, mostly? Is it flyable or not?”

“If it were,” Qui said sourly, “do you think I would still sit with you here? No, it needs some work, but nothing we can’t handle, I hope,” he added more calmly.

“Where is it?”

Qui-Gon gave us a meaningful look and shook his head. “No, young Sith. It’s too early. Recovery first.”

“When then?”

“When you’re strong enough. I won’t let you undo what we’ve achieved so far, with so much effort.”

If looks could burn, Qui would have been in ashes, so intense was Maul’s glare.

“What are you trying to hide, Jedi?”

So the Infiltrator was here somewhere. I was definitely interested. Lucky, perhaps, that it had not been Maul who flew it, considering the state he was in when we found him.

“And what did you arrive in, Maul?” Mary asked.

“An escape pod,” Maul answered.

“How so? From where?”

The Jedi answered the question. “When I finally found him, we fought. I took possession of his ship, to prevent him from fleeing. But Maul commandeered — or, to put it plainly, hijacked — a freighter. This was destroyed in the storm; I saw it hurtle straight towards the sun. But not before ejecting a pod. Now, Maul, I’ve been wondering for some time, why it was you in the pod, and the rest of the crew in the ship, and not the other way round?”

“I was in an enfeebled condition,” the Sith said sullenly.

I almost laughed when, after a few more prodding questions from our Jedi, I understood what had happened. No wonder Maul didn’t find the subject very interesting. Now who would believe that? A crew of merchants had been pissed enough to stand up against a Sith Lord, albeit a weak, probably unconscious Sith Lord — and overpowered him and ejected him into space! Well, the Force had willed it that they should pay with their lives for that.

Maul apparently found the event fairly unflattering, and mercifully Qui-Gon also dropped the subject.


In the meantime the healing business did not go so smoothly, but I suppose in the end everything was more or less okay. Qui did two seances every day. After the first few he asked me to help. Basically the procedure was that Qui did his Force hocus-pocus things until he was exhausted and Maul too tense and irritated from fighting the Jedi’s light Force-energy. If Maul hadn’t fought, it would have been much easier and more effective, but a lifetime of training cannot be undone in a day or two. Although the Force is natural to all living beings, Qui-Gon explained, if you are not accustomed to it, it tends to sweep you off your feet. It must be said to Maul’s credit, though, that he tried. He tried so hard that beads of sweat appeared on his brow. But eventually he would rasp “Enough!” and push the Jedi away.

After they finished, my work started. At the end of sessions Qui-Gon was usually tired and fairly tense. Once I offered to massage him and he seemed to like it; it was after this that he asked me every time to help him. I massaged Qui to help him relax and restore his strength. He also said I was strengthening him with my own energy. Maybe I really was; I’m not sure about that. In fact I rather liked it. I wouldn’t want to miss the feeling. And it gave Mary now and then the occasion to wink and grin knowingly at me.

There was a day I managed to persuade Maul to try a soothing back-rub, in the hope that it would help ease his tension and speed up the healing process. I straddled him from behind and tried my best. It was not easy to massage someone with such hard, well-trained muscles, but I tried to put as much comfort and enjoyment in my touch as possible. He relaxed quickly, and I enjoyed the work, because it gave me a perfect view of his naked, smooth, sculpted black-and-red backside. He lay so still. I spread my fingers over his scalp and rubbed slightly between the horns, then proceeded with little sweet circlets down the nape of his neck and over the shoulders.

After a while, however, he grew restless, and I worried. He kept shifting, and finally uttered something like a groan.

“What is it, Maul? I didn’t hurt you, did I? You must tell me.”

He mumbled something from under his arms, but I couldn’t quite catch what he said.


“I said, stop!” he shouted. “Go away!”

“Why? I thought you liked it.”

Irritated, he twisted himself from under me to push me off, and made a grab for the blanket. I almost fell. But I saw enough.

“Oh,” I mouthed and blushed. Then, trying to make it better, I said, “I’m flattered.” Then I fled.

The Pig (man, I forgot to mention the horse — we really have a zoo here): Mary’s POV

“What did you say Sue? Our mighty warrior is getting hard from a simple back-rub you gave him?!” I burst into laughter.

“Mary, stop shouting! This is not funny!”

I couldn’t. “Now, that certainly explains why he shooed me away during my nightwatch! Hah! We two, my girl, are too sexy for our Sithie! Damn.! If I’d known it earlier — how much fun …” I had to stop to take a breath — “Sue, girl! The next massage session will be verrrrry interesting.”

“He does not want it any longer. Well, at least not from me. And this is just as well for me!”

But before I could work on convincing her that deep inside her heart she had liked Maul’s arousal as well as she liked having Qui’s blue eyes staring at her, I was interrupted by the Jedi himself.

“Sue, Mary? This officer wishes to speak with you. I suppose it is concerning Maul’s and my presence here.” Behind the Jedi’s tall form trailed a cute piggy. I felt a wave of anger washing through my body when I recognized the local constable, my own personal Almost-Lover who had never understood the words “Be missing!”

“Hi, Gunnar,” I chirped, “what brought you here so fast after your visit last week?” — ‘Barnacle I added in my mind. As if there was a need for this question! Aside from his macho-allures I could have dealt with, my last year's summer flirtation had developed an insanely possessive attitude. Well, I should have expected that such folks would never accept being pushed aside. And so in fact, with his gluelike affection he was indubitably the most eligible candidate for the position of the real life phantom menace of our summer vacation.

The snub nosed exponent of the local law and order peered around with keen eyes, scanning the room for anything suspicious, lingering on the silent form of the Jedi. “Your neighbours have been complaining,” he said. “I thought I’d take a look.”

Sadly my Almost-Lover was not free of a certain kind of cowardice paired with a sense for plotting and scheming. But Allah was great and Gunnar's uncreative mind did not go further than to invent complaints from the neighbours, when he wanted to play Sue and me a nasty trick.

I was about to give a sharp retort when I noticed the Jedi's disapproving and slightly worried frown. It would be much better if I didn’t continue my private battle with Gunnar and draw the watchful (and in this case also jealous) eye of the authorities on us.

Now I felt a pair of blue eyes resting on me with a warm and agreeing look. So I took the control of this situation with the highest nonchalance I could afford. I asked affably what the problem was. Oh, a fight between two drunken men? And an assortment of male visitors, as well as an obviously — here the policeman shifted weight from one foot to the other, signaling clearly how uncomfortable he felt with his made-up duty — stoned man lying in the backroom.

I informed Gunnar that we had actually two men in the house, right (how did they know about our backroom?). But no more, no less. And if sometimes strange activities seemed to happen here (not that it was the neighbours’ business to spy on us), then maybe it was because they were artists. Actors, to be exact, seconded my Sue. We exchanged a smile, then she continued: “We’re deeply sorry if we’ve caused any inconvenience. From now on we will be more careful not to cause too much noise.”

Barely concealing his disappointment, the Constable answered, “I sincerely hope so, Mary. And do not forget to notify the Housing Office if your guests plan to spend more than a month. For your sake, I hope you aren’t housing illegal immigrants here…”

Qui-Gon frowned at that. “Don't worry, officer, we are honest citizens with no evil intentions,” he said, making a casual gesture with his hand. “In fact, we are of no interest to you. Nothing to worry about.”

Like the spring sky after rainy weather, Gunnar brightened up at this piece of information and departed happily.

In privacy again, I turned to see Sue's and Qui-Gon's equally cocked eyebrows and shrugged. “Don't know how long he will stay away ...”

“I certainly don't plan to get in the way of your friends,” Qui remarked.

I almost roared at that. “Please do get in his way, Qui-Gon! In any way you can!”

Then I realized what I had suggested, felt a burning on my cheeks and suddenly remembered I had urgent business elsewhere.

“Actors, huh?” I head Qui-Gon chuckle just before the door closed behind me.

End of chapter four. What will happen next?

“As we had feared, living with a Jedi and a Sith was not easy, at least not at first. ...”