Bedtime Stories: Padawan Jinn and the First Pathetic Life Form

by Nimori (nimorii@yahoo.ca)

Archive: M_A; anyone else, just ask

Category: AU, Q/O, humour/parody

Rating: G

Warnings: confusing dialogue ahoy

Spoilers: minor AOTC

Series: Bedtime Stories

Summary: Yoda has a bad day.

Feedback: Pretty please? On or off list.

Disclaimers: You the man, George. The only thing I'm getting for this is some cheap thrills and (hopefully) some feedback.

Thanks to: The Rose, for enduring the flood of fic and still asking for more :)

Dagobah: 24,988

"Master, tell me a story."

"A story? Time for bed it is, young Padawan."

"Please, Master Yoda? Just one?"

"If a story I tell, to sleep will you go?"

"Of course. That's the deal."

"Bargain with Jedi masters you should not." Yoda eyed his padawan's padawan's padawan's padawan sternly, but the young boy just turned the full force of his blue eyes on the little green master. "All right, all right. Blind someone with those you will. A particular story want you?"

"Tell me about Master Qui-Gon when he was a padawan."

"Ah, have the perfect story I do. Know that Qui-Gon is of the Living force you do, but complications there are when so specialized one is..."

"MASTER YO-DAAA!"

Yoda blearily opened his eyes. He had let Yaddle talk him into ordering a bottle of Dagobahn Puddlefire with dinner the night before, and he hadn't had such a hangover in two hundred years. The strident voice ringing through his quarters cut through his head like a vibro-axe. Eight-hundred years old I am. Know better than to try drinking Yaddle under the table I should.

Aloud he said, "Padawan Jinn, lower your voice you will. Unbecoming yelling is."

"I'm sorry, Master.. hic.. Yoda, but he... I found... and he won't... and it was all alone and scared, and I didn't MEAN to!"

Yoda winced, and managed to focus on the tear-streaked face of his padawan's padawan. "Center yourself you must, Qui-Gon. Release your distress to the Force. Start at the beginning you will."

Qui-Gon took a deep, shuddering breath. "Yes, M-master Yoda. We were in the garden, and Tahl threw the ball into a tree, and she didn't mean to but she knocked it down, and it was hurt and scared."

"Strong girl Tahl is, to knock down a tree."

"Not the tree, Master. The tichako. I picked it up to put it back in its nest--"

"Eleven years old you are. Know better than to touch nestlings you should."

"It was frightened. I just wanted it to be happy."

Yoda sighed, and glared at his padawan's padawan. "Take it back the mother will?" he asked, trying not to let the hope shine in his voice. A solemn head-shake dashed the notion. "And it is where now?"

Qui-Gon opened his robe and retrieved a small, rumpled creature from an inner pocket.

Yoda looked at it.

It looked back.

Yoda blinked.

The creature growled, and snapped at his nose.

"Bah. Take it out to the garden you will. Sit with it. Meditate on impulsiveness, you must."

"Yes, my Master." Qui-Gon's voice was small. "Master? What will happen to it?"

"Consider I must. Too early it is, for such problems."

"It's past noon, Master."

"Cheek! Impudence!" Yoda raised his stick, and the tichako barked sharply, oily feathers puffing out to an impressive, spiny crest. Yoda glared at it. "Silent you will be, wretched creature."

Qui-Gon tucked the hissing tichako back into his robe before the thing could make good on its threat to bite his grandmaster. "Be still, Chuffrey. Master Yoda deserves our respect."

Yoda rolled his eyes heavenward. "Named it he has! Begone with you, Padawan Jinn. Remain in the gardens until summoned, you will."

"Yes, Master." Qui-Gon bowed and backed out of the room, leaving Yoda wondering exactly how the boy had gotten into his quarters in the first place.

The consumption of several pots of tea improved his mood, and a walk through the corridors helped even more. At least no one there hissed at him.

The hangover had mostly receded by the time he ran into his former padawan in the refectory.

"Masdur." Dooku nodded regally, wrapped in Jedi serenity despite his red-rimmed eyes.

"Padawan." Yoda stared suspiciously at Dooku. "Been drinking have you?"

"MAS-dur! Ob course nod." Dooku slammed his tray down on the counter and gestured at his meal choice. The serving droid scooped a glob of trigatti onto his plate. "Qui-God brod home a tichago."

"Know this I do. Showed me he did."

"Uhg! Ged away from be. You hab allergeds all ober you." Dooku waved a handkerchief at Yoda as though shooing him away. "I bed you touched it, doo. I had to hab by quarters disinfegded ad the carbets torn out. You're the one who's always telling hib to connegt with the Libing Force. You should take care ob this."

"Sent him to meditate I did."

"Good. You can wash hib, too, before you return hib. Ad burn thad robe." Dooku dabbed at his eyes, which had begun to stream. "I hab to go, Masdur. You're cobered in dead skin ad mides ad dust from tichago feaders." Dooku waved the handkerchief again, crossed his eyes, and let loose a rather impressive sneeze. The knights in line behind them eyed the dishes of trigatti with dismay, then politely turned in their trays without taking any food.

Yoda and Yaddle lived directly below Dooku and Qui-Gon, and so when the small master returned home from his council meeting he was met with the sound of the maintenance crews tearing out the carpeting in the apartment above.

Grumbling to himself, Yoda went to fetch an ice pack for his returning headache. Yaddle did not display a suitable level of empathy for his plight, and so he was feeling very put upon by the time the temple settled down for the night. The hammering from the ceiling mercifully stopped, but Yaddle blocked his path as he headed for bed.

"In a bad mood you are. Sleep on the couch you can."

Yoda silently repeated the litany of serenity as the bedroom door slammed in his face. As he settled down on the cold, lumpy sofa, he had the oddest sense that he'd forgotten something.

Qui-Gon. He sat up, throwing off the spare blanket. Naturally, it enveloped the table lamp and brought it crashing to the floor.

"Clean that up you will!"

"Yes, yes!" he called back. Force save me, forgotten Qui-Gon I have. He struggled into his robe, collected his gimmer stick, and made his way to the garden as fast as could without losing what little remained of his dignity.

The gardens were dark and quiet, and as there was no one else about, Yoda assumed the ball of misery huddled under the tenyen tree was his padawan's padawan.

"M-master Yoda?" A large sniff, punctuated by a growl from somewhere within the boy's robe. "I'm sorry, Master. I meditated really hard all day, and I'll try to think ahead next time, only please can I come inside? It's cold and I'm hungry."

"Ahem. Yes, learned your lesson you have. Go home you wi..." Qui-Gon was coated with millions of invisible particles shed by the tichako. If he sent the child home without washing him, he'd have to listen to Dooku sneezing all night. Wash him in morning I will. "On second thought, stay with me you will."

"What about Chuffrey?"

Chuffrey? Ah, the tichako. "Come Chuffrey may. But tell Yaddle you will not."

Qui-Gon grinned, and all was forgiven in the excitement of male conspiracy.

"YO-DAAA!!!"

Master Yoda leapt to his feet, only to find that, sometime in the night, Qui-Gon's long legs had encroached onto his half of the couch. The unexpected limbs tangled in his, and he ended in an ungraceful heap on the floor. Done that I should not have.

"Yoda!" A crash from the kitchen told him Yaddle was in need of aid, and he rushed in, only to duck a hurtled teacup. "A tichako in the tea canister there is!"

"Er, yes..."

"Explain you may not. Get rid of it you will." Vociferous growling threatened Yaddle from the depths of the cupboard. "Now!"

"Yes, dear." The all-purpose platitude seemed appropriate, but the glare Yaddle shot him informed him of his error.

He managed to corner Chuffrey behind the disposal unit, using his stick as a prod and a pot lid as a shield until Qui-Gon arrived to rescue his friends from each other.

"New home you must find for Chuffrey, Padawan Jinn," Yoda announced, rubbing at the new set of bites, complete with matching scratches, which adorned his forearm.

Qui-Gon's lip trembled, but he bravely tilted his chin up. "Do you think the initiates might be able to take care of him until he's grown up enough to look after himself?"

Yoda nodded, relieved the boy had come up with something, as the master had no idea what to do with a surly, half-grown tichako. Other than stuff it in the disposal unit. "A wise idea that is. Much joy Chuffrey will bring to the initiates. Happy everyone will be."

Qui-Gon grinned, white teeth flashing in the morning sunlight, while somewhere from the depths of his robe came a menacing growl.

"MASDUR YO-DAAA!!!"

If Dooku had looked hungover before, now he looked as though he had caught the Corellian flu, had his eyes sprayed with mace, eaten Yaddle's cooking, and been made over by a four-year-old with a fondness for rouge.

"Problem you have, Padawan?"

"What hab you done? I'm allergig to ebery initiate in the temble! They're eberywhere! I can'd breed!"

"Pleased I thought you would be. Donated his friend to the creche Qui-Gon has. Plague you again pathetic life forms will not."

"I wand an assignmend. I wand obb this planed, ad away from thad... thad... thing. I'b begging you, Masdur. Send be and Qui-God anywhere, as long as there's no tichagos."

"Anywhere? Conflict there is on Malastare. Pack you will."

As Dooku dashed off, Yoda decided it would be best if his former padawan did not know about the adorable species of tree-rat on Malastare, or the cefring cubs that were frequently abandoned, or the plight of the very pathetic virri slugs...

"So. Master Yoda had to remind you to be mindful of the future."

Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan, who had come to stand behind him in the doorway of Luke's room. "Perhaps one can be too focused on the moment," he admitted.

Obi-Wan snorted, and slid his arms around Qui-Gon, resting his head on the strong back. "You just remember that next time you lecture me on staying in the here and now."

"Quiet you will be. To sleep he has gone." Yoda stepped past them, closing Luke's door. "Your padawan he is." The gimmer stick flashed out, catching Obi-Wan's shin. "To bed you should put him."

"I am grateful for your assistance, my Master," Obi-Wan said, bowing. Qui-Gon fought to keep the smirk off his face.

"Cheeky as your master you are."

"Master?" All three turned to the door across the hall, and the small girl standing there, blinking and rubbing her eyes. "Tell me a story?"

"Return to bed, Padawan," Qui-Gon said. "I'll be in a moment."

The stick caught Qui-Gon next. "Tell proper stories you cannot. Everything I must do around here!"

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan managed to keep straight faces until the little green master had escorted Leia back to bed. "Looks like we have the night off," Obi-Wan whispered, breath ghosting across Qui-Gon's ear. "Shall we take advantage of Master Yoda's generosity?"

"He'll be telling her stories about your wild padawan days, you know."

"She's your apprentice. You can deal with it if she decides to levitate herself into a prickle-tree." Lips settled on his ear, tongue tracing the delicate shell.

"Master Yoda is right. You are cheeky."

"Come to bed and you'll see see how cheeky I can be, Master." They crossed the motley cottage, bound for their room in the farthest addition, steadfastly ignoring the ancient voice that drifted down the hall after them.

"A curious initiate, Master Obi-Wan was, and too much energy he had..."

~ Finis ~