MCA #3, Friday Afternoon

[uncertain_dume]

Okay, so class today had Kanan kind of itching to handle a lightsaber. He wasn't going to. He really had nowhere even remotely private that he could do so without risking an excited dog getting underfoot, and even if the Force was with him (or whatever) he wasn't about to risk some sort of horrible lightsaber accident while training just because

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[futurespacemom]

He might have hours to himself, but eventually Hera needed lunch, and stepped into the apartment blissfully unaware of any spatula antics.

She blinked.

"Is the food attacking now?"

She felt she needed to make sure.

[uncertain_dume]

"Is the...?" Kanan tripped over his dog, concentration snapping, and damn near flung the spatula at Hera's face.

... He managed to not throw the spatula at Hera, at least. Stance yelped, then ran to hide in the bedroom.

Kanan took a moment to say a few choice words in Huttese, then facepalmed as he shoved the spatula behind his back.

"No. No, the food isn't attacking."

[futurespacemom]

"Good to know, since I'm planning on eating it." Hera rolled her eyes at him as she headed for the kitchen.

"You know, I've probably got something in the junkyard you could use," she offered casually. "Something..." closer to a lightsaber? "...more weapon-like."

[uncertain_dume]

Wow. This was humiliating on at least three different levels.

"I mean, all I really need was a hilt," Kanan muttered, wondering what was worse; using a spatula, or trading it in for garbage. "It's not a big deal."

Except for how he wanted to crawl under his bed and die.