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The day had started too well for there to be no accident. Plo had many accidents, every day, for years. His uncle joked that he had bad karma, but Plo disagreed. He never had any serious accidents or problems, he even truly believed he had good karma: most of the people who were important to him, he had metthem in his moments of distress.
And now it was his "drama moment" of the day, in his new favourite café, how sad. Plo saw the coffee cup being thrown at his head, and he saw the disaster that would ensue along with the waitress who widened her eyes even as she tripped over him.
His mask would be completely ruined, and he had his hands in his pockets. If only he did not have his hands in his pockets.
At the last moment, two arms wrapped around his face and pulled him back, and the only warmth Plo felt was a slight burn in his neck and chest.
Immediately the firm arms that had risen withdrew and Plo blinked at the particularly loud swear word close to his ears. He felt a complete different kind of warm as he watched the human hastily remove what was clearly an expensive coat and a white wool jumper soaked in coffee before he rushed to the kitchen.
- "I need some water to soothe the burn," he grumbled at the waitress, who timidly stammered a "yes of course", unsure whether to stay with Plo or attend to her wettest customer in the middle of a now completely silent café.
This man... had saved him. Oh, Plo would not be dead, he could withstand a little too much oxygen and he knew an ambulance would have arrived quickly enough to take him to the nearest hospital, but his week would have been ruined and he would have spent an unpleasant week in hospital, immobile on a bed and perpetually connected to piles of tubes while his body recovered if the other hadn't intervened. The waitress, who had finally recovered, helped him clean himself up with an astronomical amount of disposable paper towels and the manager insisted on offering him his drink.
Plo finally decided to accept, the sticky wetness or heat that would have burned someone else did nothing to his thick Kel Dor skin, he would put up with this all day without being bothered, and he had been covered in far worse things in terms of smell anyway. Once little Soka had sprayed him with fish soup when he was helping the little children at the local school eat at the canteen when the staff was short, and as headmaster and teacherof course he had offered his help. She was four years old at the time. Now she was almost twelve, and he still teased her about it. He probably always would. So he sipped his drink quietly, savouring the drink that would give him energy for the next few hours, and his gaze was caught by a tall, bald figure who emerged from the kitchen.
He stood and hurried out to follow his saviour who simply walked out of the shop without glancing at anyone, and the man did not see him and even looked at him as if he did not know him when Plo hailed him.
- Hey!
- ... Hello?
- "I wanted to thank you for earlier," he began before bowing deeply. "Thank you very much."
- I was just in the right place, don't thank me.
- "Others could have stepped in," Plo pointed out, not exactly so naive as to be inattentive to his surroundings. "You're the only one who did. I'd like to pay for your clothes, I insist."
- The damage would have been worse if it had been your mask, and really, there's no need. My mother is a doctor, she'd curse me if she found out I'd let someone get hurt in front of me.
- Ah.
Plo looked down at his shoes – there was a stain on the right one – before raising his head with renewed determination.
- But I insist on paying for your clothes!
The human's lips stretched into a smile that he would unhesitatingly describe as "reluctantly amused".
- You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?
- Right, you've got it all figured out.
The man rolled his eyes and held out his hand before taking it back.
- Do you shake hands?
- Yes?
- Then I am Mace Windu, pleased to meet you.
- "And I am Plo Koon," the Kel Dor introduced himself, shaking the small five-fingered hand. "You're not hurt, are you?"
The human shook his head, his face softening.
- I'm all right, a little ointment will do. What about you? I didn't take the time to check your mask in the rush, are you all right?
- Everything is fine, thanks to you.
- Good, such a pretty face shouldn't be in so much danger.
Plo blinked once, then a second time, but nothing changed, and he chirped quietly. He could not remember ever having been the audience of such aggressive flirting. It was incredibly flattering, especially since he was not exactly a young man anymore.
- Thank you for the compliment.
The human's face remained perfectly impassive, and Plo realised that he had not exactly answered the right part of the sentence.
- You're also very nice to look at for a human!
- I see.
What did he see? Plo himself was a bit confused and even more clumsy with his words, what could he have determined about him with these few sentences? And why was he holding out his hand?
Plo grasped the hand again, though the way it was held out, palm up, was strange. He did not pretend to understand all the ways of greeting that the human species had invented but this one seemed extremely impractical.
- "Your com," the other one finally said. "I'll put my number in it."
If he was physically able to, Plo would blush very hard. Fortunately, he could not and simply handed his com to the human who quickly made contact profile and handed it back to him.
- Are you free tomorrow night?
- "Yes, I don't do anything after 7pm," the Kel Dor replied, taking into account that one of the parents had warned him that they would be late picking up their daughter and had almost begged him to keep her with him, which Plo could do without any problem while preparing his class for the next day.
- Good, I'll send you the address of the restaurant.
- Restaurant?
- I'll give you the bill for the dry cleaning there. Do you find the terms acceptable?
- Okay? Yes, it's-
- Good, see you tomorrow night then.
They shook hands one last time, Plo feeling slightly confused at what was probably a misunderstanding but clearly felt like a caress from his fingers as they parted. Confused but not intimidated, it was clearly not malicious.
It even felt sensual.
No, Plo Koon, no! Stop fantasizing about sexy strangers! He is not even a Kel Dor!
It was not that he was a fanatic about his own species, especially since he was as non-heterosexual as possible so the question of biological reproduction did not arise, but still, a human? He must have only found three humans attractive in his entire life! They just looked so fragile and breakable!
This one clearly doesn't look breakable, the very creative part of his brain that he was trying to turn off whispered. He might even try to handle you.
And Almighty Force if that did not turn him on madly. The taste of the forbidden, probably. Sleeping with a human was not recommended, both for him and for the human in question. Especially for the human, of course, because Plo had talons instead of their fragile little fingernails, and while humans enjoyed the occasional enthusiastic scratch during their lovemaking, he knew for a fact that they would not want to have scars on half their backs to remember it. And for his part, Plo did not want to make a partner bleed in bed, it was not his thing.
He ended up in the staff room without even knowing how he got there. Muscle memory was probably really a thing.
- What's with the depressed look?
- Not now, Ima...
- "Which means we have to talk about it now," the Nikto said worriedly, following him without hesitation. "What's the problem? Something to do with your coffee-stained clothes?"
- No. Yes. I don't know.
- "Oh Force," a firm hand came to rest on his shoulder to stop him. "Have you been drugged?"
- What? No!
- Then make sense with your words! What's the matter?
Oh, he was really worried, wasn't he?
- I think I have a crush on a human I met in the coffee shop that recently opened, you know, the one Adi told us about.
- Oh. Is that all?
- What do you mean, "is that all?" That is huge!
- Well, I've had a human boyfriend for three weeks so I admit I don't really see the problem here.
Keeli, that adorable little genderfluid human, really deserved better than an idiot like Ima-Gun, Plo decided as he pouted at his friend, who merely pressed his lips together harder. That meant he was smiling really hard, which did not help brighten his mood.
- That's good news, you're just being unnecessarily dramatic.
- "I'm not," he sighed as he rested his chin on the palm of his hand, certainly not pouting.
- Hi guys, what... wow, Plo. What's with the long face?
- "Hi Micah, how are you?" The Kel Dor quipped.
- "Very well thank you," the human replied without spotting the sarcasm, too busy leaning in the hallway. "Qui-Gon! Come here!"
Were all his friends going to meddle in his life as if it was a holodrama?
Experience has shown that the answer is yes, sadly.
- Is it urgent?
Micah stared at him once more before shouting again.
- It's Plo!
- ... I'm coming!
... since when had "Plo" become a synonym for emergency in this school? He was still the headmaster of this educational institution!
- "What's going on?" exclaimed their local giant, looking at Plo with concern, before making a careless gesture with his hand, already anticipating the question from the other three. "Don't say anything. "
It was hard not to say anything about the many paint stains in the man's long hair, but Plo tried to remain silent. He would ask Micah to send him those pictures he was taking discreetly later. Tahl was bound to like it.
- "He has a crush on a human and he's freaking out," Ima-Gun announced, betraying him without doubt or remorse.
- "Why are you even my friend?" He groaned, his face hidden in his hands.
- "Because if it wasn't for me you would have been hit by a speeder," the other replied without missing a beat.
The worst part was that it was entirely true.
A loud noise brought him back to the other two idiots.
- Ooooh! Plo in love, it's so rare!
- I can't wait to meet him and tell him all about your nonsense.
- "And I have pictures and videos to prove it!" Micah added.
Plo was taking it all back. Ima-Gun was fine, it was those two idiots who did not deserve their mates!
- Don't get excited, he's just going to give me the bill from his dry cleaners for the clothes he ruined by saving me from having my mask destroyed.
The two companions exchanged a glance before smiling at him:
- Fate!
- You say he's going to give it to you? Not just send it to you?
- No, he invited me to the restaurant tomorrow to give it to me, but we won't meet again.
This time, it was Ima-Gun's turn to look at him like he was an idiot.
- Take this advice from the only man in this room who isn't stupid in love and who is actually capable of charming someone he's interested in: dress well for this date, and don't forget to ask for another one. I'll leave you to it, I have plans for a restaurant tonight with Keeli, I have to make reservations.
Plo turned to his two friends who had thankfully calmed down a bit.
- This isn't a date, is it?
- Well, personally I would have just emailed you the bill.
- In any case, I certainly wouldn't have invited you to the restaurant to celebrate the ruin of my clothes.
- Maybe he's just being polite?
Micah huffed and shook his head.
- Plo! Don't be stubborn just for the sake of being stupid, although it seems you still suck at romantic interest signals. This guy asked you out on a date, that's all. Trust Ima-Gun, he's actually our specialist here. Just think about it, if it wasn't for him, Qui-Gon probably wouldn't be married and father with a family to care for today.
- That was almost twenty years ago, it’s time to move on-
- "Never!" They answered together.
- So just check the holonet to see if this guy looks suspicious, like a married man or a serial killer, and have fun! Come on, Qui-Gon.
- What? But why-
- So you don't have an excuse not to go. Come on!
Plo wondered: could a man so well dressed be a serial killer?
Maybe.
After his research, he had refined his question: could a world-famous theatre actor be a serial killer? Surely that would take too much effort and logistics, wouldn't it?
Should he take his taser just in case?
When he received the address of a place described as "quiet and intimate" on social media, Plo decided to take his taser.
One can never be too careful.