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Destiny

Raina

Archive: not before finished, but then with pleasure at M_A and nuttersinc (elsewhere please ask for distribution)

Pairing: Q/O

Category: Romance, Angst, AU, Qui/Obi

Rating: PG-13 up to R

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Seriously, I don't. Look at my bank account, it'll tell you. It'll also tell you how pointless it would be to sue me.

Summary: Qui-Gon dies and sees Obi-Wan's future, so he decides to change some things.

Spoilers: Plenty, I think, for the first eight JA Books and TPM, especially the ending.

Warning: Character death! Doesn't really stay dead, though.

Feedback: Love it, keeps me happy and creative.

Notes: First of all, I tried to adhere to canon as far as I knew it. Since I've read up to JA 8, that's all I know, the rest deviates form canon, which means basically I made up what I liked to have happened.

Secondly, this story is inspired by the great and wonderful piece that turned me from non-shipper to dedicated shipper: "In my End is my Beginning" by Lilith Sedai, to be found at M_A. Please go and read it, it's a beautiful story. (And if I say inspired, I mean I had the idea while reading it, not that I drew any specific ideas from the fic, so you can read it without being spoiled for this story and the other way around. I really only took the idea that one of our two boys has all the memories of their time together and the other has not, which I found a very interesting pretext. Thank you for the inspiration, Lilith! )

Big, big, thank you to my excellent and incredibly nice beta-reader Tem-ve. All remaining mistakes are mine alone.

Also a very big thank you with extra topping and a cherry to Leandra, for stating what a crappy life Obi-Wan had, thus giving me an idea for this fic, for being such an appreciative audience, for reading my stuff and being so nice as to like it! And for turning me into a Qui/Obi shipper. You can stop gloating anytime now. ;-)

Prologue

I was ready. I knew my time had come. I felt myself become one with the Force. I felt my soul dissolve to become the Force, felt my life, my self drain away into the all-consuming light that had birthed me and sheltered me my whole life.

What held me back, then? You, of course. You always had a knack for being able to reach me when no one else could have.

As I floated in weightless light, ready for oblivion to come over me and take me to a place beyond any worldly concern, I felt you through the Force. I felt your raging emotions, your anger, your fear, your consuming grief, your soul-shattering hurt.

How could I leave, then? How could I not come to you? I heard you, heard you rage against fate, against the Force, and against me.

I watched you standing there, staring at my burning remains, outside ever the serene Jedi, inside shaken by soul-wrenching grief, raging anger and screaming hurt. I need not read your Force-aura, though I can easily do so, I can see it in your eyes, they have changed from their usual green-blue depths to a blue-grey storm of emotion.

I can read your eyes like others read a book. I know the sea green of deep thought and meditation, the sparkling blue of mischief made, the bright clear grey of intense concentration in battle, and any shade in between.

Now you stand there during the celebrations, all serenity and calm, Anakin by your side, outwardly confident and secure with your new rank as Knight. You could have fooled anyone. You fooled Yoda. But not me. I can feel the shaking of your soul as if it were my own. After all, I was deeply connected to that soul for more than a decade.

All the people there, I do not see them, I see only you. You keep me here, your silent screams of rage and grief that tear at my soul. I do not know what my remaining with you will achieve, but I cannot abandon you.

For the first time since the day we met, I fear for your heart, for your soul. Everybody always thought I was the strong one in our relationship, just because I'm taller than you, and more controlled. But you were my rock, my salvation, my strength. I learned so much from you, more than you will ever know, and all the time we were together you didn't fail to amaze me with the sheer strength and courage of your heart.

You separate from Anakin now, and I follow you. I can no longer feel interest in Anakin, I shed all concern for his fate with my worldly life. You go to the hills, to a place where you can have quiet. I can see your need to connect with the Living Force. Of course, that would be your response. It would be mine. I am silently proud of you, for I expected you to turn to my ashes for the confrontation that I know will follow. I am glad you sought life instead.

You settle down on top of the hill overlooking the city, but you turn away from it, you turn to the woods, to the life you feel pulsing there. You settle down in meditation, as I knew you would, and you try to work through your emotions.

Anger. Fear. Grief. Hurt.

I can hear you scream at me. "Why did you leave me? How could you brush me aside the way you did and then just drop this child into my lap? How could you put this on my shoulders? This was your burden, not mine. How can I train him when my whole being cries out in pain every time I see him? Why was I so easy to cast aside? Twelve years together, all the blood and sweat and tears and joys and laughter, and your last words to me are of him? And then you just go and die on me, you bastard! Die on me, and not be there when my Padawan braid is severed, not be there when I take the Padawan that was supposed to be yours, how dare you!"

Every word hits me like a physical blow. And I answer you. At least, I try. I hope you hear me.

I had no choice, I did not want to leave you. Letting you go was the hardest thing I ever had to do, yet I felt it to be the right thing. I never expected having to train the boy myself, I assumed they would assign him another Master. But I could not let him go untrained, even if it meant giving you up. But it was never easy, not for a second.

I asked you to train him because I have more faith in you than in the whole Jedi Order combined. I know only you have a chance to make this boy the Jedi he has the potential to be. Your huge heart and infinite compassion will guide you on the way. You can heal yourself, and you can heal the boy the way you healed me. I know it. After all, I am your greatest achievement.

I spoke my dying words about the boy, and it was a mistake, I know. But how could I say everything I still had to say to you in the little time I had left? Well, I should have tried. I know what I did seems cruel to you, but I am confident you will fulfil my hopes in you with the dignity and grace that marks all you do.

I lean over you, still clinging to the mental image of corporal self. It is time for me to go. I reach out to ruffle through your hair one last time, a gesture you outgrew long ago, but still tolerated from time to time in memory of old times shared. The moment my astral projection of a hand touches your head, I am thrown into a vision.

I see your grown apprentice turn on you, lightsaber in hand. I see him turn on the Jedi, killing them all but you and Master Yoda. I feel your pain, your powerlessness to stop all that, your guilt, your sense of failure, your deep despair. I see you on Tatooine, with an infant in your hands. I see you watching this child for twenty years, shunning every emotional contact, living your life alone, a hermit, an outcast, the last of a dying Jedi Order. I see everything you ever believed in destroyed, all you fought for violated by the child I put in your hands. I see him becoming the means of your destruction. Yet he can and will not break you. You fight him every inch of the way, you fight his hate and anger with compassion and kindness, and finally, with your life. I see your whole life, a string of loss, disappointment and despair, as all the events of your pain-filled life click into place in a chain that started the day we set foot on Bandomeer and I dragged you into my shattered life, my broken heart. You followed me down from there, you never hesitated to follow me anywhere, no matter how much hurt and heartbreak I caused you over the years.

Now it is my turn to scream, to rage, to cry. My peace is shattered, my soul no longer ready to pass into oblivion.

Instead, I scream at the Force. Undo it all, leave him alone. Let him have the life he deserves, let him be happy, safe and sound. Let him go home. Let him have peace. Take from me what you like, but please, spare him. He always gave everything he had and asked for nothing in return. Now I ask for him. Let him have some justice. Give him his due.

I feel a dispassionate question being asked. You would do this for him? Are you aware of the consequences of your actions? For yourself, for others?

To Sith with the consequences. All I care about is to save the one person I love most in the galaxy from a life of loneliness and despair.

I gather together all I am, all I have been or will ever be, gather the Force around the whole of my existence, and I focus one last time on the beautiful boy I had the great luck and honour to watch and guide as he grew into the man I now see before me. I gather every memory to my withering soul, every look, every touch, every smile.

And then I let go. The light explodes around me with the sudden burst of a hundred dying stars. And then there is darkness....

Part 1

First, there was pain. A splitting headache that started behind his eyes, darted out over his temples and centred on the back of his head. As he drifted towards consciousness, there was confusion. Where was he? What happened? He thought back to his last memories.

He remembered dying. He remembered the pain. He remembered his consciousness leaving his body, floating away into the Force.

His hands travelled down his body to his midsection where the wound should be. His fingers met only smooth skin. His heart beat, he could draw breath.

He opened his eyes and sat up in surprise. He was in his own bed back at the Temple. Shaking his head, he took a couple of deep breaths to find his calm centre again.

Had he died but in his dreams? It had felt so real.

He got out of bed and settled down on the floor to meditate. Searching his own mind and memories with the Force, he noticed the silence.

He called out. Padawan?

Silence.

More urgently, this time. Padawan!

Nothing. Not even a faint stirring of a mind. Total silence.

Trying to control his apprehension, Qui-Gon let his mind travel along the training bond he shared with his apprentice. When he realised what was wrong, his mind reeled in shock.

The training bond was still there, firmly attached to his mind, but it was broken, snapped, shattered. Its frayed ends bled into the Force. A training bond could only be broken like this if one of the participants forcefully severed the connection using the Force. Or by death.

Qui-Gon tried to control his shaking so he could get up. When he finally managed to keep on his feet, he went as fast as his shaking knees could carry him to Obi-Wan's room. He opened the door and sank to his knees on the doorstep.

The room was empty.

It wasn't just that Obi-Wan wasn't there, and that all his things were gone, the room showed no signs of recent inhabitation.

When Qui-Gon took a few steps inside, he actually left footprints in the dust on the floor. The bed was bare, the curtains were open to admit moonlight, the cold light making the emptiness more tangible. A few items lay on the nightstand, a broken data pad, a discarded hair band, a few coins from far away planets. The only items he'd left in the room after he'd cleared out Xanatos' things. The room looked exactly like it had the day Obi-Wan had moved in.

~~ The boy next to him practically quivered with anticipation, though he valiantly tried to hide it. Qui-Gon smiled. So much enthusiasm. He palmed open the door and let his apprentice walk through first. His apprentice. How strange, yet how right that sounded. Out loud, he said, "This is your home now, Obi-Wan, from now until your Knighting." Over their still new training bond, he felt Obi-Wan's joy and anticipation at the word Knighting.

He ruffled through Obi-Wan's hair. It must have been the first time he did that. "One thing at a time. No reason to grow up all too quickly, Padawan." Obi-Wan just smiled at him, the word echoing through their bond. Padawan. "Yes, Master." Half proud, half indulgent. A tone Qui-Gon would get used to over the years.

He guided the boy to the room that would be his, the room Xanatos had inhabited for so long. But Obi-Wan would dispel the shadow Xanatos had cast over the room, just like he had done with Qui-Gon's heart. Obi-Wan entered the room, beamed and declared it perfect.

From the moment he set foot in it, the room began to take on Obi- Wan's unique presence. He threw out the old data pad and the hair band, but kept the coins, they being beautiful for their own sake, as he explained to Qui-Gon. He filled the bare places in the room with his few possessions, he meditated, slept and worked in the room, and slowly, the very Force- essence in the room started to feel like Obi-Wan....~~

Qui-Gon sighed, still lost in the memory. Every time he had needed to reconnect with his Padawan, he had just entered this room and breathed Obi-Wan's bright presence, and wherever his Padawan had been, he'd felt immediately connected with him.

But now the room felt as empty as it was, no laughter echoed of its walls, no trace of Obi-Wan was to be found here. It was like he never lived here.

Realization and memory hit Qui-Gon at the same time.

He remembered slipping away, and Obi-Wan's grief, he remembered the vision, and what he'd asked of the Force. Undo it all. Leave him alone. Give him his due.

Of course. Obi-Wan never lived here. He wasn't Qui-Gon's Padawan. He had never been. All he remembered of the last twelve years never happened. Obi-Wan was free, once more. And he had lost him.

Staring into the emptiness that surrounded him, the raging emotions in his chest finally overwhelmed the Jedi Master's control, and Qui- Gon Jinn broke down in tears of relief and soul-shattering loss.

Dawn found him still kneeling in his Padawan's former room, in deep meditation. He was trying to come to rational terms with recent events. He had died, and then he had somehow changed the past and woken up in an alternate timeline where Obi-Wan wasn't his Padawan.

So much for the facts. Of the how and the why, however, Qui-Gon knew nothing. If he really was in an alternate timeline, why would his memory be unaltered? And why had the Force allowed his interference? All very good questions, he could answer none.

The new timeline would take some adjusting to, but he still had two rather important issues to deal with. One was the fact that he lived. He hadn't thought about any consequences his Force-surge would have for him. That he was sitting here now, alive, took some getting used to. Apparently, in this timeline Naboo had never happened. But what if it had? What if they had sent Obi-Wan and his current Master, and they encountered the Sith?

Here he was with his second problem. For more than a decade he had been constantly aware of Obi-Wan, had known his condition and mental state at all times. But now the bond was silent, had never existed, though the broken tendrils were still there in Qui-Gon's mind, and right now he couldn't even tell if Obi-Wan was still alive.

He got up. Fretting would get him nowhere, it was time he did what any good Jedi field operative would do: get information.

Resolutely, he went to the console, accessed the Temple's personal files and began to read up on Padawan Kenobi.

Qui-Gon tried to look calm and serene as he walked through the corridors towards the Temple cafeteria, but in fact he was nervous and uneasy. He felt vaguely out of place, although he'd spent hours reading up on every bit of information he could get hold of.

In his mind, he went over the facts he'd discovered once more. Obviously, Padawan Kenobi had never set foot on Bandomeer, or even close. He was chosen as a Padawan by Adi Gallia shortly after his twelfth birthday. Qui-Gon could only approve warmly of the pairing the Force had chosen. Adi was warm, steady, a ferocious fighter and even better diplomat, she was on the Council, yet still unconventional enough to more often than not support Qui-Gon in his encounters with the Council. At least, that was the Adi Gallia he knew. He was curious how his unruly Padawan had changed her. After all, Obi-Wan Kenobi changed everybody whose life he touched, as Qui-Gon knew only too well.

What had surprised him was to find that Padawan Kenobi was by now Knight Kenobi. He had passed his trials with excellence about four months ago and was now a full Jedi Knight, just returned from his first mission. Although he knew it was not an emotion one should cherish, he felt a surge of pride in his Padawan. His former Padawan, he corrected himself, accepting the twist of his heart at the words as the price he had to pay for Obi-Wan's future.

Another Knight-Apprentice team had been sent to Naboo and hadn't encountered either the Sith or Anakin Skywalker. Qui-Gon sighed. Another unsolved problem. What should he do about Anakin? He couldn't just go to Tatooine and pick the boy up, but he couldn't leave him there either. His visions had told him very clearly how potentially dangerous Anakin was, and he was uncertain how to proceed.

Qui-Gon dismissed the thought for now as he approached the cafeteria. First he had to resolve his issues about Obi-Wan, then he would meditate and try to decide on a course of action for Anakin. He would deal with Obi-Wan first, then with Anakin. If only he'd followed that order of things the last time.

But his priority now was breakfast. He checked the timer on the side of the cafeteria door. At least it was early enough that he could be pretty sure he would not meet Obi- Wan at the cafeteria. Obi-Wan had never been a morning person.

He was proven right when he entered and ascertained with a quick sweep of the premises that Obi-Wan was indeed not there.

Sighing with relief, he went to get a light breakfast. He noticed a few of his old friends sitting together at a nearby table, but he just waved at them and sat alone in a corner. He wasn't ready to talk to anyone. He had spent the night reading up on the last twelve years of Obi-Wan's life, but his own past was still very much a mystery.

He ate quickly, avoiding Mace Windu's questioning eyes, and got up to leave as soon as he was finished.

He put his tray into the recycler and was about to exit, congratulating himself on successfully avoiding Obi-Wan, when the door to the Cafeteria swished open, laughter died down and he found himself staring directly into a pair of blue-green eyes he had all but given up on ever seeing again.

Qui-Gon froze. He wanted to throw his arms around Obi-Wan, telling him how sorry he was for all the misunderstandings and the hurt he had caused. He wanted to say all the things he'd never had the courage to say, things that maybe hadn't needed to be said. He wanted to weep for joy seeing Obi-Wan was all right, safe and sound and a full Knight. He wanted to glow with pride.

In fact, he could not move a muscle. He was frozen in place, eyes riveted on Obi-Wan, taking in subtle differences in appearance. His Padawan braid and Knight's tail were gone, his hair was a little longer, and seemed more blond than ginger. All this he processed in an instant, then his eyes were drawn back to the blue-green depths of the other man's eyes.

Obi-Wan was frowning at him, no doubt wondering why the Jedi Master was so rudely staring at him, and Qui-Gon slammed the lid down on his raging emotions and gracefully stepped aside to allow Obi-Wan and his friends, most of which he recognised, to pass into the Cafeteria. He smiled an apology, not trusting his voice and was rewarded by one of Obi-Wan's most glorious "we're all only human" smiles.

His heart felt considerably lighter and infinitely more sad as Obi- Wan passed him, Bant, Garen and two other young Jedi in tow, not even looking back at Qui-Gon.

He watched Obi-Wan walk away, confidence in his stride, every inch the Jedi Qui-Gon had always known he would be.

Unconsciously, out of long habit, he sent a quick thought infused with pride and warmth down the broken training bond. Padawan.

The Cafeteria doors were closing rapidly before him, but still he could see Obi-Wan's head snap around to look back at him, meeting his eyes just as the door closed and cut off the brief contact.

Qui-Gon let out the breath he had drawn in surprise and nearly collapsed against the door. Obi-Wan couldn't have heard. It was impossible.

Just to make sure, he made a mental note never to test it again.

Qui-Gon had always heard people say that reading one's own journal was a surreal experience, but he doubted the author of this saying could have fathomed how weird it was to read one's own journal and not remember writing a word of it, or any of the incidents described.

He found out that his life over the last twelve years had consisted mainly of missions and very short stays at the Temple where he'd been doing pretty much anything to avoid having too much spare time on his hands. Consequently, he had been very busy and his life had become very empty.

Of course, idiot that he was, he'd refused to take a Padawan, even when, according to the journal, he'd felt a light tug of the Force when he watched some Initiates spar casually. Obi-Wan was not mentioned in name, but the ginger hair and changeable eyes in the description were enough of a clue.

Being angry at one's younger self for making a mistake one had actually wanted to occur to change the past and future was rather confusing.

Thinking about timelines, actions and consequences made Qui-Gon start to understand why every great Jedi philosopher had written books about why messing with timelines was a bad idea. It produced nasty headaches, for one thing.

He needed exercise. Naboo, even if strictly speaking it hadn't happened to him, had brought down forcefully that he was a little out of shape with his lightsaber. Of course, he'd never fought a Sith before, and that may account for his failure, still he felt he needed practice, so he put on his training tunics, grabbed his lightsaber and went to one of the common practice rooms.

As soon as he entered the training room, he knew he'd made a mistake. Several Masters were there, among them Adi Gallia, and with her was her former Padawan. Qui-Gon winced as Adi waved at him cheerfully and came up to speak with him, her former Padawan in tow.

Qui-Gon knew Adi Gallia of old, they had been friends for a long time, but according to his journal they'd both been off planet so often that they rarely met. He put on a smile for her as she strode up to him, Obi-Wan in perfect step behind her left shoulder, still in the old habits of apprenticeship, apparently.

"Qui-Gon Jinn, what an unusual sight. You look tired, old friend. I'm glad we're actually on Coruscant at the same time for a change." Her smile was open, genuine and infectious.

Qui-Gon's own smile widened as he inclined his head in greeting, "Adi, I can only heartily agree. It has been too long."

She gestured to Obi-Wan, "I think you never met my by now former Padawan, Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi." She beamed with pride as she made the introduction, "Obi-Wan this is the in-famous Qui-Gon Jinn."

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan locked eyes and exchanged nods.

"Actually, we met just this morning, we almost ran each other over in the Cafeteria." Obi-Wan said with a pleasant smile and a twinkle in his eyes that Qui-Gon knew only too well.

"Indeed." Qui-Gon said dryly, raising an eyebrow at Obi-Wan as if to dare him to comment any further. Obi-Wan wisely refrained, though he couldn't quite suppress his grin.

Qui-Gon felt his own lips twitch upward, but controlled his urge to smile at the familiar sparkling in Obi-Wan's eyes.

It occurred to him then that it might still be possible to be friends with Obi-Wan with the danger of his life sliding into catastrophe removed. Looking at the Knight before him, he rather liked that thought.

Adi Gallia's beeping comlink interrupted his wandering thoughts and brought him back to the present. She answered it and received a summons to the Council Chamber, at her earliest convenience, which was polite for "get up here now".

Turning to Obi-Wan, regret was written on her features, "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan, I can't spar with you now, but promise to come by later and we'll talk." Obi-Wan smiled at her, "Don't worry, Mast- Adi. I'll handle myself. Maybe Master Jinn here will give a young Knight the opportunity to suffer a humiliating loss at his hands?"

Trying, and failing, not to smile, Qui-Gon managed to accept with fake formality, "Very well, Knight Kenobi, it will be my pleasure."

Adi said goodbye with a look of suppressed amusement, and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan went to the middle of the sparring mats.

The room was half-full with Knights and Masters, some fighting, some watching, and a few of the spectators gathered around the young Knight and the famous and revered Jedi Master.

Both men bowed, lightsabers hummed to life at training strength, blue and green blade met with a hiss, and the fight began.

At first, Qui-Gon was on the offensive, slashing and spinning with incredible speed, while Obi-Wan blocked Qui-Gon's attacks with difficulty. As the battle progressed, though, the advantage of the match slowly tipped in Obi-Wan's favour. Being younger and quicker, he gained the offensive when he sidestepped an attack Qui-Gon had been sure Obi-Wan wouldn't be able to block.

Obi-Wan used the momentum his opponent's confusion gave him and attacked. He spun and slashed at Qui-Gon with increasing speed and pressure.

Qui-Gon meanwhile had the growing impression of fighting two people, this Obi-Wan and the memory of his own apprentice. Sometimes, he could foresee Obi-Wan's moves before he even started them, then again he did something Qui-Gon wouldn't have thought of in a millennium.

Still he looked out for the opening in Obi-Wan's defence, the one fault in his technique that had been there for as long as Qui-Gon could remember.

There, he had just begun the series of attacks that always ended him in a vulnerable position. Qui-Gon almost smiled as he parried the first few strokes with ease, but as he turned to face the next move in the pattern, he was surprised to feel a searing pain at his neck where Obi-Wan's lightsaber touched his neck.

He spun around to Obi-Wan, who had somersaulted over his head and ended the match with one blow to Qui-Gon's unprotected back.

Grinning sheepishly, Obi-Wan lifted the hilt of his lightsaber to his face in salute, a gesture that seemed almost apologetic.

Qui-Gon returned the salute, looking at the young Knight for a long time. For the first time it really sunk in. He was standing in front of a stranger.

He met Obi-Wan's eyes, the one constant that seemed untouched, for their colour had shifted from intense grey to a murky blue, signalling slight embarrassment and insecurity.

Qui-Gon inclined his head, "Thank you for my lesson, Knight Kenobi." In his voice lay respect.

Obi-Wan nodded in return, relieved, "Thank you for my lesson, Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. He nodded again at Obi-Wan and left the room, almost hurrying.

As soon as the door of his quarters closed behind him, he slid down against it and buried his face in his hands.

Images of the past colliding with those of the present haunted him. So similar, yet so different. So much he'd taken for granted, a little gesture, a smile, the way Obi-Wan held his lightsaber. All that he'd assumed was natural, a part of Obi-Wan's very soul, but now he saw how wrong he had been to just assume he could pick up with this Obi-Wan where he'd left off with his own apprentice.

The man his apprentice had been, the man he'd helped create, was gone. The man he had just fought in the training room was a stranger, he had no idea who Obi-Wan Kenobi was anymore.

At that last thought, Qui-Gon finally lost the battle for composure and allowed himself to grieve.

At night the wing of the Jedi Temple that held Qui-Gon's quarters was silent and almost empty, though the halls hummed with the Force signature of many Force-sensitive yet sleeping minds. The nocturnal species were housed in another part of the Temple, and Jedi kept early hours, so Qui-Gon met nobody as he strode through the halls toward one of the training rooms.

Though he had spent almost the entire afternoon in meditation, he had not been able to work through all of his emotions, and so sleep had eluded him for hours.

He'd given up and decided to do some katas instead. Maybe he could work off some of the tension through exercise.

The lights were down to a quarter strength in the halls, all but drowned out by the light of Coruscant's three moons that washed through the windows.

He should not have been surprised that the training hall was not empty.

At first, Qui-Gon didn't see him, he was so still, but he felt him. The Force swirled around the figure sitting in meditation in the centre of the room, bathed in moonlight.

Qui-Gon did not need his eyes to recognise the figure. No matter what timeline, the Force signature of a soul did not change. And he would know this soul anywhere.

Clouding his own presence in the Force, he stood in the shadows and watched, with his eyes as well as with the Force.

Obi-Wan's eyes were closed, his face serene, a deep calm emanated from him, his meditative state deep and undisturbed by the silent observation.

The silence was total, only broken by the sound of Obi-Wan's steady breathing.

Qui-Gon relaxed and let his own mind drift into a light meditative state. He realised now that was what he'd come to seek here, not the calm concentration of exercise but the quiet calm of a presence that had been his steady companion for the last twelve years.

Force, he missed that. His Padawan's quiet presence, his radiant Force signature, his steady breathing at night when he was asleep. But most of all he missed the friend Obi-Wan had become, the friend he desperately needed right now.

He realised of course that this man was strictly speaking not the Obi- Wan Kenobi he knew and loved, but he was still Obi-Wan Kenobi, and maybe that would be enough.

Obi-Wan rose from meditation slowly, Qui-Gon could feel his mind surfacing to awareness just as his body rose and stood in the first position of a warm-up kata.

Qui-Gon smiled. Apparently, some things hadn't changed. His Padawan had always gone through this routine if troubled or stressed. Meditation, katas, lightsaber exercises.

All the time his focus would be inward, listening to the Force, letting the movement take over conscious thought so that the Force would show him the way. The deep faith his apprentice had shown in the will of the Force at such times had surprised and humbled Qui-Gon in his rather impatient Padawan.

Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan began to move through the katas with nearly inhuman grace. Of his exercise clothes he wore only his pants, so the moonlight played over his bare chest, his bare feet making no sound on the matted floor.

Beautiful, was all Qui-Gon could think as he watched Obi-Wan going through the age-old motions with practiced ease and perfect control. Every muscle responded perfectly, every position was executed with a precision and grace only attained when the mind was calm and the Force was strong. Indeed, the Force flowed through Obi-Wan, guiding his movements and almost caressing his spirit.

Qui-Gon could not avert his eyes even as he realized through a small shift in the Force that Obi-Wan was aware of being watched, though his body showed no reaction, never faltering in step nor breaking the movement, not even opening his eyes.

Qui-Gon found himself wishing to be able to touch him, catch his arm and correct the tiny flaw he saw there, or lay his hand on a bare shoulder just to reassure himself of the reality of the other man. He longed for the easy familiarity that would have allowed him to walk over and just ruffle through Obi-Wan's hair, initiate any sort of brief physical contact, or even the deeper familiarity that allowed their minds to touch over the bond that lay now silent and broken.

But neither was possible, so he contented himself with watching muscles ripple under pale skin, beads of sweat forming and glistening in the moonlight. He noticed subtle differences in the young man's body as he watched. Stronger forearms, from different lightsaber techniques taught to him, scars that were unfamiliar to Qui-Gon, the ones he knew missing.

The most prominent of Obi-Wan's scars had been one directly over the heart, from a wound he had sustained on a mission to the remote planet Cellis.

~~It had been one of his too many too close touches with death. Qui- Gon had watched in horror as the projectile entered his apprentice's body. So much blood. He'd tried to hold the wound closed, all the while pouring Force energy into the increasingly pale sixteen-year-old, just to keep him alive until the field medic came and declared his Padawan too far gone to save. Qui-Gon had snapped, then, dragged the woman back and threatened to cut off as many of her tentacles as she liked if she didn't treat his apprentice at once.

Afterwards he'd been ashamed at his sudden anger, born of his incredible fear of losing his Padawan. He'd meditated for hours on his loss of serenity, but only Obi-Wan's return to consciousness and health had helped him put his demons to rest. His Padawan had meditated with him then, becoming a source of strength to the Jedi Master, and he'd finally seen that the answer was simple. Jedi were only human, after all. And every human is allowed to fear for the ones he loved.

He told Obi-Wan that day. For the first time, he said the words. "Padawan, I love you."

A radiant smile, a twinkle in eyes dark blue with emotion, and a simple answer. "I know."~~

The scar had always reminded him of that moment, the look in Obi- Wan's eyes. After Cellis, they had been closer than ever before, the whole episode having strengthened and deepened their bond.

Qui-Gon shook himself out of contemplation when a shift in the Force called him back to the present.

Obi-Wan never spoke a word or opened his eyes, but Qui-Gon knew he had been identified, deemed not a threat and pushed aside for now until the exercise was finished. Obi-Wan's grip on the Living Force had definitely improved, though his occasional flashes of brilliance had always convinced Qui-Gon that if Obi-Wan would only let go, the Living Force would be as strong in him as the Unifying Force had always been.

But he was no longer Obi-Wan's teacher, had in fact never been, so it was not his place to comment on the improvement, though he had already formulated the praise in his head.

His reverie was broken as Obi-Wan, after what seemed an eternity, completed the complicated kata with the traditional bow and slowly opened his eyes. Without turning, he said, his voice calm and ever so slightly amused, "I always thought I was the only insomniac here."

Qui-Gon smiled, stepping forward out of the shadows, "I'm sorry to disturb you, but insomnia seems to become more frequent these days."

Obi-Wan turned. "You've been watching me."

Qui-Gon nodded silently.

"I've been pondering one question that puzzled me ever since we sparred this afternoon." Obi-Wan's voice was distant, contemplative.

Qui-Gon motioned for him to continue.

Serene green eyes met Qui-Gon's. "How did I beat you?"

"What?" Qui-Gon asked, taken aback by the other's straightforwardness.

A smile played around Obi-Wan's lips. "Well, it's a legitimate question, and I think one you've asked yourself as well, or you wouldn't have watched me as closely as you did. Forgive my impertinence, but I was just curious."

The Jedi Master inclined his head, a sign that no offence was taken, and said, his tone matching Obi-Wan's serene voice, "Well, Knight Kenobi, since you've given the matter some thought, might you wish to elaborate?"

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, and continued in a light tone, "If you insist, but I must warn you, my theories are both slightly insolent and rather personal."

Amusement coloured Qui-Gon's reply. "This I must hear. You've made me curious. Please continue, I will not take offence."

Obi-Wan smiled as if he somewhat doubted that statement, but continued nevertheless, "I examined the match carefully and I can only come to the conclusion that you weren't fighting me."

At Qui-Gon's questioning look, he explained further. "You were fighting, but it wasn't me you were fighting with. You seemed to fight someone or something else, but not me. You didn't react to what I was doing, only to what you expected me to do. You were fighting a memory, perhaps, or your expectations of me, but never me."

For minutes, the room was silent as Qui-Gon absorbed in quiet shock what the young Knight had said, and the accuracy of it startled him. It was like Obi-Wan had seen through his shields directly into his mind. Without the advantage of twelve years of apprenticeship the man had still found a way directly into Qui-Gon's heart. He hadn't expected that in the least. Trust Obi-Wan Kenobi to beat the Sith out of expectations.

Finally, he broke the silence, "Your observations are correct, and I apologise."

Obi-Wan broke into a relieved grin, glad he hadn't offended the Master, "Please don't apologise, I would rather you sparred with me again."

Qui-Gon smiled and nodded, "It will be my pleasure, Knight Kenobi."

Retrieving his lightsaber, Obi-Wan said in an amused tone, "Since I've analysed and patronised you, don't you think it's time you called me Obi-Wan?"

"The truth is sometimes hard to say, and I respect your courage in doing so, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan bowed formally, "Thank you, Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon held up his hand. "No titles anymore. You spoke to me as an equal. Now you can address me as such."

Obi-Wan smiled and brought up his lightsaber. "May we begin, Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon's own lightsaber touched his brow in salute and hummed to life. "We may indeed, Obi-Wan."

Lightsabers clashed and the fight had begun.

This time, there was no memory to fight. Qui-Gon abandoned himself to the moment, to the Force, slashing, spinning, and meeting Obi-Wan's attacks as they came.

They fought silently and gracefully, with quiet determination. The Force pulsed between them, flowed from one to the other.

Movements were anticipated, attacks parried and returned so fast the movement was lost in a blur of light. It was more a dance than a fight, silent and intense, the only sounds the hum of lightsabers and the breathing of the two opponents.

Neither noticed that the longer the fight progressed, the more they drew from each other, Force energy flowing between them until Force signatures were mingled almost to the point of being indistinguishable.

With a clever and very fast move, Qui-Gon ended the fight, though the Force-boost he'd needed to perform the spin was too much and as Obi- Wan's lightsaber flew away, Qui-Gon stumbled and landed rather ungracefully on his back.

A hand helped him up and as he looked up at Obi-Wan, the intense grey of concentration faded from his eyes to be replaced by a twinkling blue that Qui-Gon associated with amusement.

Retrieving his lightsaber, Obi-Wan remarked, casually, "That was more like it."

Qui-Gon frowned as he followed the younger man out into the hall, "Like what?"

"Like I expected sparring with Qui-Gon Jinn would be like."

"Expectation is the threshold of disappointment." Qui-Gon's tone was dry, but his eyes sparkled.

Obi-Wan nodded, conceding the point. Looking at Qui-Gon contemplatively, he said, "You look more relaxed now. If you don't mind my saying so, I think you needed that."

Qui-Gon smiled, "I quite agree. It's not good for my ego to be beaten in a saber match."

Regarding him seriously, Obi-Wan shook his head, "That's not what I meant, though it's a part of it. You just seem to me like someone who could really need a friend right now."

Suddenly blushing under Qui-Gon's intense gaze, he said, "Forgive me, I speak out of place."

Qui-Gon laid a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, "No, you are right. And if that was an offer, I'm taking you up on it."

Obi-Wan grinned, "Deal."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me just yet, wait until you've tried my cooking." The humor was back in Obi-Wan's voice.

Qui-Gon frowned. Obi-Wan and cooking mentioned in the same sentence seemed somewhat bizarre to him. "Was that a threat?"

Obi-Wan shot him a look. "I'll leave that for you to determine."

With that, he turned down a corridor in the direction of the Knights' quarters, waving a short good night to Qui-Gon.

The Jedi Master smiled to himself. With the boundaries of Master and Apprentice gone, his friendship with the young and spirited Knight could definitely be interesting. Maybe even more than that.

~~"When the student becomes the teacher, then the partnership is right."

Obi-Wan had always been a gracious loser, furthermore he tried to gain a lesson from each of his losses. But his Padawan always seemed to give something back for every lesson he received.

The relationship between Obi-Wan and Knight Tahl had been a strange one from the start. Both sensitive and deeply selfless, they were constantly worried about hurting each other's and Qui-Gon's feelings, so they pretty much tiptoed around each other for some time. But after a while they got used to the situation, and being naturally rather fond of each other , had developed a firm friendship.

The three of them had sat together one afternoon, discussing the lightsaber competition for the Knights, which was just being held.

Obi-Wan had asked why Knight Tahl wasn't competing, her skill being legendary. She had just shrugged and fallen silent.

Qui-Gon was just about to change the subject when an unshielded thought from his apprentice reached him.

She's probably afraid to lose. No wonder, right now even I could beat her.

Qui-Gon stared at the fifteen-year old in horror. His Padawan had been broadcasting the thought carelessly into the room, and Tahl had heard as well.

She went very still and only said, "Well, Padawan, why don't we see how much your saber skills have progressed."

Obi-Wan accepted the challenge and all three went to a free training room.

Of course Obi-Wan was quite soundly beaten, three times in a row, in fact. He was a consummate swordsman for his age and didn't give the Knight an inch, still she beat him easily.

Conceding the third round, Obi-Wan didn't try to hide his grin at Tahl's satisfied expression and raised his saber in salute. "Thank you for my lesson, Knight Tahl."

She smiled, a note of respect in her voice as she raised her saber and answered, "Thank you for my lesson, Padawan Kenobi." With that, she turned and left.

Qui-Gon stared at his apprentice for a few moments. "You knew she was going to wipe the floor with you, didn't you?"

Obi-Wan smiled, somewhat indulgently, "Master, that was sort of the point."

Qui-Gon understood now. Obi-Wan's lapse in shielding had been deliberate to get Knight Tahl to gain back some confidence. He'd fought well, and by losing, had won more than any victory could have gained.

Qui-Gon clasped his apprentice's shoulder in a quiet gesture of pride and affection. It was the proudest he'd been so far of his Padawan, even though, or just because, he had lost.

The same afternoon, Tahl entered the competition and ended up in the semi finale.~~

Qui-Gon surfaced from meditation with a smile at the memory, early morning sunlight warming his face as much as the memory had warmed his heart.

Last night had surprised him, the ease with which Obi-Wan had ignored seniority and hierarchy and reached out to a Jedi Master who needed a friend and maybe a lesson or two.

Maybe he should write a manual. Understanding Obi-Wan Kenobi 101: Don't even try, you are bound to fail.

But he did know one or two things about this man for certain.

One, while Qui-Gon was reserved and not an easy man to know, his former Padawan made friends as naturally as others drew breath, still being at the heart of him a greater mystery than Qui-Gon himself.

Two, Obi-Wan was a master in transcending people's expectations to the n-th degree, by being an absolute enigma. His flashes of Force- guided brilliance were as impossible to predict as his most devastating failures.

In an evaluation Mace Windu had once called Obi-Wan erratic. Though the evaluation had not been in any way remarkable except for this one word, Qui-Gon had kept the data pad on his nightstand for years as a reminder.

It had happened before, during their twelve years together, the sudden shift in their student-teacher relationship. When it occurred, Qui-Gon was the awed learner, receiving lessons about faith, courage and the Force from a Padawan who most of the time was unaware of the lesson he'd imparted.

Just like last night. The younger man had combined his effortless way of making friends with his uncanny ability to teach Qui-Gon lessons in self-awareness Yoda would be proud of.

Obi-Wan had reached out to him last night, as he did when he felt another being in need of a friend, and had offered whatever had been needed of himself, while asking nothing in return.

Qui-Gon shook his head. Obi-Wan the giver, who wore his emotions like a badge, and Qui-Gon, the reserved, controlled Jedi Master, who seldom showed emotion. A strange pairing, though an eerily right one, for Obi-Wan was at his heart as much an enigma as his Master, and in reading that enigma, Qui-Gon had learned to show his emotions, at least his affection for Obi-Wan.

It had been imperative for him to overcome his shyness of showing emotion simply because Obi-Wan's friendliness and open, humorous personality hid a heart that longed for nothing else than love.

It was easy to take Obi-Wan at face-value, the ever smiling, mostly cheerful young man who seldom betrayed his true feelings, but Qui-Gon had learned a long time ago that Obi-Wan craved love, needed it like air, soaked it up like a sponge, thrived on it and thus inspired it in most of the people he met. He'd always been surprised how many friends his Padawan had made, how much they had cared for him.

Much as Obi-Wan might have changed, he knew friendship with Obi-Wan would be both very intense and very rewarding. Obi-Wan had always given freely but his true friends had always been those who'd reciprocated.

The door to his former Master's quarters swished open and Obi-Wan stepped inside, looking around.

The main room was empty, so he called out, "Mast-... Adi?" He smiled at the still common slip-up. He wasn't used to addressing his Master with her first name yet.

She didn't answer, so he reached out with the Force, locating her easily in the bedroom. He sent a quiet knock through the Force and was rewarded with an invitation through the remnants of their training bond.

He stepped into the room and casually greeted his former Master, who was lounging in bed, a data pad on her knees, only half-dressed, her hair mussed from sleep. She smiled at him, completely relaxed, long familiarity barring any embarrassment.

Automatically, she shifted her legs to make room for Obi-Wan at the other end of the bed, and her former apprentice settled down with a contented sigh.

"So tell me about your mission, Padawan." Adi smiled at him invitingly.

He shook his head, "Later. First I have to ask you a question. How well do you know Qui-Gon Jinn?"

Adi raised her eyebrows in surprise, but gave the question some thought before answering thoughtfully, "Well, I used to know him rather well. Qui-Gon, Mace and I were Initiates together, so I've known him from creche, but ever since Xanatos turned, he has pretty much withdrawn into himself. He's hardly on Coruscant and if he is, he mostly avoids his friends. So I guess the answer to your question would be, not all that well anymore. Why are you asking?"

A noncommittal shrug accompanied his answer, but he didn't meet his Master's eyes. "Just out of curiosity."

Adi shook her head. Obi-Wan never asked random questions just to satisfy curiosity. And he never avoided her eyes. "Padawan, what is it?"

He sighed and gave in. It was pointless to hide anything from Adi Gallia. "When we sparred yesterday, he seemed lost. And then I met him again last night, and he kept looking at me as if he was looking for something, and couldn't decide if he'd found it or not. We fought again last night, and I could feel him drawing Force energy from me, as I drew from him."

"Hm. So there is a connection between you. But there's more, isn't it?"

After almost imperceptible hesitation, Obi-Wan continued, "You'll think I'm crazy, but when we first met in the cafeteria, he stared at me as if he knew me, even though I was sure we never met before. At the same time I was certain that I didn't know him, but the weird thing was, I had the feeling that I should."

He debated whether he should tell her about the brief whisper he'd heard in his mind, but decided against it, for he wasn't sure he hadn't imagined it.

It was obvious to Adi that there was something Obi-Wan hadn't told her, but she also knew it was pointless to ask now. He'd shared all the information he would give at the time. So she gave advice based on what he'd told her. "Well, Padawan, maybe the Force is trying to tell you something. Maybe you should explore this connection further. It could be that he's trying to come out of his isolation and for whatever reason is reaching out to you. Listen to the Force, live in the moment and be patient."

"Yes, Master Yoda." Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at her, before ducking the pillow she threw at him.

"Maybe not the most original piece of advice, but sound nonetheless. And now, Padawan, tell me about your mission."

Settling back on the bed, he started his tale.

The Room of a Thousand Fountains was quiet, like it was almost all afternoons when many of the Jedi were busy with classes, training or meetings. Most Jedi meditated in the morning and at night. But Qui-Gon felt he needed this now.

He had just discussed his duty roster with Mace Windu, who had spent the whole meeting staring at him until Qui-Gon felt strange in his own skin. He'd been assigned to teach a lightsaber class for senior initiates, another of Yoda's ploys to get him to choose an apprentice, which now more than ever was unlikely.

He'd avoided his former mentor until now, not sure if the ancient Master would feel the change in him, but not ready to find out.

He'd spent the time before his meeting with Mace to consult his journal and the Temple database to check up on some old friends, and now meditated on his findings.

Not much had changed. He had lost contact with most of his friends. Tahl was still dead, only her death hadn't hit Qui-Gon as hard, since they'd never reconnected the way he and his Tahl had. He'd suspected that it was due to Obi-Wan's influence that had enabled him to open his heart to anyone, but now he knew.

Apparently, Tahl had died from wounds sustained on Melida/Daan, a planet still in the clutches of civil war, for nobody had ever listened to the Young, especially not the Jedi team that had been sent to rescue Tahl.

This discovery weighed heavily on his conscience, yet balance existed even in chaos. He knew that even if he and Obi-Wan had not changed Melida/Daan, they had helped other worlds and other lives. Still, his Obi-Wan would have been perversely pleased to learn that his influence hadn't been for nothing, that his influence on the fate of this world had been considerable, justifying his sacrifice.

Only of course he would never know. To the Obi-Wan Kenobi he knew now, Melida/Daan meant nothing.

Qui-Gon shook his head, trying for what seemed to be the millionth time to release his feelings of being out of place, his grief and anger at himself into the Force. Succeeding at least partially, he sunk deeper into meditation.

Voices from far away. All very familiar, but one touching a chord in his soul with its carefree laugh. A simple sound, shattering his serenity into a million pieces.

He sighed and pinched his nose. It was in moments like this when he debated whether Obi-Wan Kenobi was the joy or the curse of his life. After all, nobody else could make him fail so spectacularly at meditation.

The voices grew louder, and suddenly he heard a splash and suppressed giggles.

He could not resist moving closer. Shielding his Force-presence, he watched the small group, consisting of Obi-Wan, Adi Gallia and Bant, who was already swimming in the lake.

Adi and Obi-Wan were watching her in silence, Adi sitting with her back against a tree, Obi-Wan lounging in the grass, absently playing with a tentacle of Adi's headdress. The silence between them was comfortable, familiar.

After a few minutes, Adi reached down and wove her fingers through Obi-Wan's growing hair, a gesture of protective tenderness.

"It will take some time to get used to the hair, Padawan," she said quietly, staring out over the lake.

He shrugged, relaxed into the caress and replied, his voice low and sleepy, "You'll get used to it. Good to remind you that you can't get me to do your paperwork anymore."

A shriek and a squirm ended the peacefulness of the scene, as Adi started to tickle her former Padawan with a vengeance. Obi-Wan laughed and tried to get away from her tormenting fingers, but Adi held onto him with a bit of Force-help.

Qui-Gon retreated to the little niche he had used for meditation and tried desperately to quiet the scream in his mind. Mine.

No, not yours, Jinn. He never was, and never will be.

Mine. Mine to touch like this. Mine to pet and to tickle, to tease and to laugh with. Mine to call Padawan.

Get a grip, damn it. It's not like he ever belonged to you, even your Obi-Wan didn't belong to you, he argued with himself. It's not like you didn't give him up willingly.

Of course that didn't mean that it didn't hurt.

~~In the end, what one missed about a person one had been so close to weren't the grand gestures and life-changing moments, but the little things, the small habits of daily life.

Obi-Wan's whistle when he was in a good mood while rebraiding his Padawan braid.

The way Obi-Wan would sit cowered at his feet sometimes, when he had something very personal to say. The way he played with Qui-Gon's bootstraps while they talked, the way Qui-Gon would play with Obi- Wan's hair.

Obi-Wan combing through Qui-Gon's hair, untangling it carefully after a heavy fight.

Backrubs, footrubs, cheerful banter about the first shower, lightsaber maintenance and the little wrinkle over Obi-Wan's nose when he concentrated hard.

Games of Secheck, Obi-Wan complaining loudly about the long list of books Qui-Gon had given him to read.

Casual dinners at home and Obi-Wan's comments on Qui-Gon's cooking. Unique was the word he used, his grin telling a different story.

The quiet sound of Obi-Wan's breathing when he slept, the squealing sound he produced when squirming under Qui-Gon's fingers who knew the exact spots where he was most ticklish.

Small rituals of apprenticeship. A bow acknowledging a lesson. A smile, taking comfort offered. A grin and a wink, sharing a joke. A glorious smile full of warmth with praise received.

Calling him "Padawan", sometimes a title, a reminder, most times an endearment.

Being called "Master" and hearing Teacher, Closest Friend, Mentor, Father.

Still all of it a shadow of the warmth of minds touching through the training bond...~~

Qui-Gon shook himself out of the daze of memory, wiping his eyes angrily. He couldn't turn into an emotional wreck every Sith-damned time he saw Obi-Wan. He was a Jedi Master, for Force's sake, he should just deal with it.

He stretched out onto his back and watched the fake sky ceiling while listening to the faint sound of conversation coming from the group he'd left on the shore.

He must have drifted off, for when he opened his eyes, the fake sun was about to set and he was staring at Obi-Wan, who leaned over him, looking faintly embarrassed.

"Sorry, I didn't want to wake you, but it's getting cold and I wanted to see if you were all right." The young Knight apologized, his face going faintly red.

Qui-Gon broke into an amused grin. See if he was all right, sure. Obi- Wan had the air of someone who had been caught staring.

He waved away Obi-Wan's apology with a slight chuckle and gratefully accepted the Knight's hand up. Straightening his robes, he waved at Adi and Bant, who stood at a distance on the path to the exit.

"We were just about to get some dinner. Would you care to join us, Master Jinn?" The question sounded rather shy.

Qui-Gon smiled. Shy wasn't normally a word he associated with Obi- Wan. "I would like that very much, and I thought we agreed that titles weren't necessary, Knight Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan flushed slightly, but grinned, "Point taken, Qui-Gon."

Qui-Gon nodded and winked at the young Knight, glad to see his embarrassment dissolving at the little gesture. "Now come on, I'm hungry."

A sigh, and a mocking, "Yes, Master."

Qui-Gon's heart missed a beat, his feet missed a step. He shook his head at the back of Obi-Wan's head. Life was never easy with that one around.

And thank the Force for that.

It would be a lot easier to just relax and enjoy himself if his Force be damned former apprentice could decide one way or the other.

But as it was, the young man sometimes said or did things during dinner that made Qui-Gon almost jump with surprise, and then again he did something so "Obi-Wan" that Qui-Gon's heart contracted.

Of course, he argued with himself in his head, the man had every right to act like Obi-Wan, after all he was Obi-Wan. And then again, he was not. The headache that continually lurked in the back of his head ever since he woke up in this other timeline threatened to erupt again.

During dinner, Adi and Obi-Wan regaled Qui-Gon and Bant with embarrassing tales of their missions. Soon they were all laughing and sharing stories all around. Bant and Obi-Wan reminisced about their crèche master and Qui-Gon told the young ones a few stories about Adi in her Padawan days that had Obi- Wan almost crying with laughter and Adi blushing up to the tentacles on her headdress.

He began to relax and really enjoy himself. His guard slipped.

A couple of times he almost gave himself away. Once or twice he wanted to launch into one of his countless Obi-Wan stories, but stopped himself in time.

But when Obi-Wan asked him to pass the Cava beans, Qui-Gon frowned at him, "Since when do you eat Cava beans?"

Obi-Wan looked up, surprised, "I don't, normally, but occasionally I like a few. How did you know I normally don't like them?"

Qui-Gon needed every ounce of self-control not to blush violently at his stupid mistake and tried to think of the lie of his lifetime. "Well, you did wrinkle your nose when they were served, so I just guessed you weren't too fond of them."

Obi-Wan stared at him critically for a minute but since he did dislike the beans and especially their smell, and since Qui-Gon had no reason to lie to him, he broke into a grin and accepted the explanation.

Qui-Gon hid his relief as well as his embarrassment and vowed to be more careful.

As the evening progressed, and the group retreated to Adi's quarters to talk, it became increasingly difficult for him to predict how Obi- Wan would react to anything he said, and very short introspection led him to the main reason for his inability.

He was simply not used to relying on his eyes and ears to know how Obi-Wan felt about something, to assess his mental state. Twelve years of a close Force-bond had made things like paying attention to Obi-Wan's modulation and mimics secondary. Of course, twelve years of close proximity had also made him an expert in reading Obi-Wan's eyes and Force signature, but still, in a normal conversation he was at a disadvantage.

He was feeling relaxed and in good spirits, and the others were much the same, so shields were at a minimum and vigilance was as reduced as it would ever be, so he thought he might take a small chance and quickly Force-sound out Obi-Wan's emotional state.

He sent out a mental probe very carefully and didn't intrude, just hovered at the edge of Obi-Wan's awareness. What he found was mainly confusion. Obi-Wan didn't know what to make of him yet. There was definite liking there, and even, he was shocked to discover, attraction.

He withdrew quickly when the dormant training bond stirred in his mind, looking for a path to re-establish itself. The broken bond sent a shiver of yearning through his entire being, a shiver that travelled through his body as well as through his mind.

Obi-Wan was just telling a story and stopped mid-sentence to jerk his head around and look at Qui-Gon. "Are you all right?"

Qui-Gon nodded, "I'm just a little tired. I think I will retire for the night."

Obi-Wan got up, "You're right. It's late; I think I'll get some sleep as well. After all, I have my first class tomorrow."

Adi and Bant exchanged an impossible to read look, then Bant got up as well. "In that case, I'll go as well. Good night, Masters. Night B.." she hesitated slightly, "Obi-Wan."

Qui-Gon hid a smile. The slight hesitation had not escaped him. Obviously, Bant had wanted to call him Ben, but with a virtual stranger present, she wouldn't ever use the name that was nickname as well as very private endearment. Bant had no way to know that Qui-Gon knew about the nickname and its significance.

Obi-Wan smiled at Bant, gave Adi a peck on the cheek and strolled out. Qui-Gon smiled at Adi and followed.

In the hall, he was surprised to see that Obi-Wan had waited up for him. He fell into step beside the Master, and for a short while, they walked the halls in a comfortable silence.

Obi-Wan broke it first. "You know what I said last night, about being friends, I meant it. If you ever want to talk about what's bothering you, I'll listen." He winced slightly, "That sounded a bit patronising, didn't it?"

Qui-Gon smiled, "A bit, but I know you didn't mean it that way. And I'll take you up on that offer one of these days. But tell me, what class are you teaching in the morning?"

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrow, noticing the change of topic, but didn't comment, "Saber training for first-level Padawans. My first class. Master Windu insisted I take up teaching since I have a hand for children, apparently, and saber classes are supposed to be easy to start with."

Qui-Gon couldn't suppress a sympathetic shudder. "If you need any help, please feel free to ask."

"Well, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow and I'll tell you if I need any help?" The offer was made shyly, almost a request.

Once again, Qui-Gon had to silence a cry of yearning from the bond to be allowed to send reassurance and affection to a mind clearly in need of both, but as giving in to that yearning was impossible, he contented himself with laying a hand on the Knight's shoulder and accepting the invitation with a reassuring smile, "I'd like that, thank you."

A grin split Obi-Wan's face and danced in his eyes, "I told you. Thank me after you've tried my cooking."

Qui-Gon shuddered.

Laughing, Obi-Wan stopped at the corridor that led to the Knight's quarters. He nodded at Qui-Gon and started to leave.

The he stopped and turned his head. "Eighth hour?"

His voice had lost all its uncertainty. His tone was casual, light, borderline offhand. His eyes though bored into Qui-Gon's with a quiet intensity that left no doubt that friendship was not the only thing the young Knight was offering, but for now it would take precedence.

Qui-Gon swallowed soundly, but none of his confusion and nerves could be heard in his voice when he replied, "I'll bring the wine."

Obi-Wan smiled, nodded one last time and went off to the Knights' wing.

Qui-Gon watched him leave, watched the swagger of his hips, the confident stride, the muscled back, strong, lean shoulders.

He shook his head. He needed to meditate on the wisdom of accepting the invitation.

Qui-Gon rose from meditation with his calm restored and much of his uncertainty eased.

He was still a little rattled by the demanding bond, but he was confident he could shield it from Obi-Wan.

A training bond should not react that way, he knew that. But then again, his training bond with Obi-Wan had been very close and very deep, binding them closer together than was normal for any Master- Apprentice team he'd ever known about. Only his Force-bond with Tahl had ever matched the quiet intensity of the training bond he had shared with Obi-Wan.

Part of him knew this probably meant something he wasn't comfortable contemplating yet, but another part of him was too tired to think about anything but sleep.

He settled on his bed and even as he drifted off to sleep he let the memory take him back to the day the bond between them had solidified to the deep and enduring connection it had been ever since.

~~It would have been so easy to just let go.

After Tahl's death, he didn't really care anymore. Dispassionately, he followed a pattern of behaviour he'd set for himself, but he couldn't work up the energy to care about anything. His future, his life even, was inconsequential.

But still, something held him back from letting go of himself completely. He didn't realise what until it was almost too late.

They had finally found out where Tahl's killer had hidden, and Qui- Gon contemplated how to proceed.

The planet was beautiful, and their quarters were near the ocean, so he went down to the cliffs to think. He never noticed a short figure following him, and he never noticed stormy eyes watching him from the shadows of trees nearby as he sat at the edge of the cliffs, legs dangling, contemplating his next step.

He knew he was on the edge, literally and emotionally. As he looked down into the water, he felt very tired. It would be so much easier just to let go. To fall, or to turn. Fighting gravity or darkness was so hard. And what for, anyway. Fall or turn. It would be so easy. Let go then, fall or turn.

He froze as two arms wrapped themselves around his chest from behind, two legs hooked around his hips and a head was pressed to his back.

He felt more than heard the words, "Either way, you're going to have to take me with you."

No. Never. Not him. They would never get his boy, his precious Obi- Wan. He turned fiercely to the boy and hugged the life out of him, their muted training bond searing to life, filling Qui-Gon with love and light once again, reigniting a spark he thought had died.

All his defences, his shields and iron control on his emotions crumbled to dust and he broke down and cried in the arms of the one person who loved him enough to pull him back.

In that small moment, the last of the barriers between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan fell. In that same moment, Obi-Wan tied Qui-Gon so firmly to him that he never forgot that his life had very much meaning. Namely one Obi-Wan Kenobi.~~

Obi-Wan woke from the dream with a start and sat up in bed, wiping the sweat from his brow. "What in all Sith hells was that?"

Obi-Wan banged his head on the low kitchen cabinet for the second time this afternoon. He cursed the lack of space in the small kitchenette his quarters contained. He was still used to the more spacious cooking facilities in Adi's quarters.

He'd learned to cook out of sheer self-defence. Adi was a horrible cook, but wasn't too fond of the Temple cafeteria, so more often than not, they'd stay in and eat whatever she had cooked, until even Obi- Wan's youthful appetite could no longer tolerate the steaming piles of mostly undercooked or burned stuff it would be bragging about to call a meal. So he'd decided to take charge of the cooking, for he reasoned even if he was crap at cooking, whatever he produced had to be better than the mush his Master had the nerve to call food.

So from then on until the end of his apprenticeship, he was stuck with kitchen duty. Not that he'd minded, he was fond of cooking, and even more fond of the quiet appreciation Adi had always shown.

Rubbing his head where he'd bumped it, he returned to cutting the vegetables and contemplating his day.

The class had gone tolerably well, he got along great with the children and it was really fun teaching them, but he hadn't quite got the balance between friend and teacher right yet. Maybe Qui-Gon could help him with that.

Qui-Gon. His more serious problem.

He'd never met the man in the 25 years he lived in the Temple, and in the last 24 hours he had bumped into him several times, each time completely different from the previous encounter.

And then he'd had this weird dream last night, a dream in which Qui- Gon had featured prominently, a dream in which he'd been fifteen and Qui-Gon Jinn's Padawan.

It hadn't felt like a dream. It had all felt so real, so deeply emotional. He had been able to feel Qui-Gon's pain and grief, his younger self's desperate fear for his Master, his need to protect the older man. It had been disturbing.

Disturbing and confusing, he amended his own thoughts. Everything about Qui-Gon Jinn confused him. The way the Master's deep blue eyes lingered on him, looking for something, he didn't know what.

He admitted that the Jedi Master fascinated him. It was easy being flattered by the fact that the famous, or infamous, Qui-Gon Jinn had taken an obvious interest in him. After all, the man was a walking legend, a mystery wrapped in an enigma, one of the most legendary Knights in the Order, and yet when Obi-Wan talked to him, he seemed unsure of himself, almost shy.

But there was more. In the quiet of his afternoon meditation, Obi-Wan had acknowledged the feeling he'd never shared with anyone, not even his Master nor Bant.

It was time to look the truth in the eye. He loved Adi Gallia as much as any Jedi loved their Masters, she was his mentor, closest friend and only parent he'd ever known, but still, ever since the day he became her Padawan, he'd felt lost. A tiny, but consistent voice in his head had whispered: "Wrong. Don't belong. Not where you should be. Not your place."

He'd managed to keep this voice well hidden from Adi, it would have hurt her feelings too much, and he didn't want her to be hurt. He loved her too much and was too grateful to her for that.

None the less, for a very long time, he'd felt like he didn't belong, like he was living someone else's life.

But the moment he'd looked into Qui-Gon Jinn's eyes, that feeling had stopped. And dealing with its sudden absence was proving as difficult as coping with it for all these years.

Now, while he was peeling and slicing the carrots, he was trying not to think about the direction he wanted this evening to take. Experience told him to just wait and see.

He thought about the night in the practice room when he'd felt Qui- Gon's eyes on him like a caress. His skin had tingled on the path of eyes roaming over his body, and he'd felt the same sense of familiarity yet strangeness he always felt from Qui-Gon.

He wasn't a romantic at heart, but he couldn't help but feel that in another life Qui-Gon Jinn might very well have been very familiar with his body.

He blushed at the thought. Was it unbecoming to fantasise about a man one had just met and offered friendship to?

No matter. He could not help how he felt, no more than he could help offering his hand to Qui-Gon when he'd sensed the man's deep loneliness and longing for - what, exactly? Him? It surely had felt that way, but he wouldn't presume to assume anything.

He sighed as he stirred the stew he was preparing for tonight's dinner. Maybe he had time for another hour of meditation.

Qui-Gon checked his appearance one last time in the mirror next to his wardrobe, then berated himself for the action.

Why did he insist on doing that? To check out his clothing? He was pretty sure his robes were still brown, and his tunics still beige.

At least he'd not fretted about what to wear. Well, not much. After all, his choices were limited. Tunics, robes, more tunics, more robes, in varying shades of brown and beige. Standard Jedi garb.

Just like he looked now, Jedi Master Model 101. Upgrade after first grey hair. Eyeing his appearance, he guessed he'd missed several upgrades.

Well, he couldn't change who and what he was. He was too old and too battered to still concern himself with appearances.

Still, for years he'd felt a little awkward beside Obi-Wan's lean, slender, graceful beauty. So it was only natural for him to fret.

He left his quarters after a last quick look into the mirror, and strolled along the corridor in a measured pace, carrying a bottle of Naboo Spring wine.

He took the stairs, not the elevator, and slowed his pace down a little. It wasn't stalling, he decided. He just wasn't in any hurry to get there.

In his head, he repeated the mantra for tonight. Live in the moment. The past is set. He reached his destination and after a deep breath, he pressed the door chime.

The door opened and a smiling Obi-Wan waved him in.

The room was rather small, but tidy, and it practically sang with Obi- Wan's Force presence.

When his young host disappeared into the kitchen to look after their dinner, Qui-Gon closed his eyes for a brief moment and inhaled deeply. He allowed himself to take Obi-Wan's Force presence in, let it seep under his skin, let Obi-Wan's scent into his nostrils, let it roll off his tongue.

When Obi-Wan returned from the kitchen, he found a relaxed and smiling Jedi Master instead of the slightly nervous one he'd left before.

He smiled at his guest, "Comfortable?"

Qui-Gon nodded. For the first time in ages, he felt at home.

"So I turned and looked for another lightsaber, because mine had flown so far away I couldn't see it, and my eyes fell on Master Phen's lightsaber." Qui-Gon stopped for breath in his tale about his first sparring match with Yoda after becoming a Padawan and watched Obi-Wan dissolve into giggles.

Obi-Wan knew Master Phen. He was over nine feet tall and had large tentacles as hands, so his lightsaber was huge and much too heavy for the Padawan Qui-Gon had been at the time.

"You didn't!"

Qui-Gon grinned, "Yes, I did. I called the lightsaber to me, and of course I couldn't even lift it. The moment my hands closed around it, I fell backwards."

Obi-Wan's eyes sparkled with amusement, "So what did Yoda say?"

"The little troll just floated over to me and started to giggle."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows rose in astonishment, "Yoda giggles?"

"Yes, but you didn't hear it from me. And if you tell anyone, I'll probably have to kill you," Qui-Gon said in a low voice, leaning towards his host with a conspiratory air.

Obi-Wan laughed, "All right, I'll take the secret to my pyre."

Qui-Gon grinned smugly. At least this Obi-Wan didn't know all his anecdotes yet, so there was an advantage somewhere in the situation.

He sat back and enjoyed the other man's laughter. He didn't remember feeling this content since he'd woken up in this timeline.

The evening was progressing nicely. The food was great, the wine was relaxing and the company was everything he'd missed so much about his Padawan.

Obi-Wan was as intelligent, charming and witty as ever, but lately Qui-Gon had grown even more appreciative of his company, had learned to cherish it in another way, because now it wasn't his right as a Master, or even necessary for the young man's training. Now he could enjoy Obi-Wan's company as a friend, without boundaries except the ones in his mind.

The boundaries that reminded him not to call him Ben, or Padawan, not to ruffle through his hair, not to say to him, "Remember that time on Vereelis Five when you were trapped in that giant flesh-eating plant?", and hardest of all, not to touch the training bond.

But he guessed he had to take the good with the bad. At least he could now indulge the growing attraction between himself and Obi-Wan without duty standing in the way.

He realised that during his short reverie, he had been staring at Obi- Wan and the laughter on the young man's face had been replaced by a thoughtful look.

Qui-Gon smiled, "Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts for a moment."

Obi-Wan's answering smile was still thoughtful. "One day, you must tell me what you see when you look at me like you did just now."

Qui-Gon sighed. "One day. Perhaps."

Obi-Wan acknowledged his words with a nod, glad the Jedi Master hadn't insulted his intelligence by pretending not to understand, but accepting that no immediate answer would be forthcoming. So he returned to the story, "And what happened after Yoda laughed at you?"

Qui-Gon blushed slightly. "Well, Yoda just told me not to be overly enthusiastic, but obviously he told the story to Master Phen, who as you know is one of the greatest gossips in the whole Temple. So for the next few weeks the story was all over the temple, and unfortunately the incident was the origin of some very lewd jokes about lightsaber sizes."

Obi-Wan laughed out loud. His eyebrows raised suggestively. "Lewd jokes like..?"

Qui-Gon blushed further. "Never mind."

Obi-Wan's grin took on an indecent edge, but he didn't press the issue.

Qui-Gon cleared his throat and tried to win back his composure. "So didn't you say something about dessert?"

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Smooth evasion. But of course you are right, I'm a terrible host. I'll get the dessert."

He stood up from the table and went for the kitchen, but halfway there he turned. "Why don't we retire to the living area and play a game of Secheck?"

Qui-Gon nodded. Obi-Wan smiled and vanished into the kitchen.

Qui-Gon allowed himself a smile. His Obi-Wan had hated Secheck with a passion, but had played with Qui-Gon because it was time they spent together. Consequently, the game had become secondary, but it had provided a setting for long quiet talks about nothing in particular, and Qui-Gon had won every single time they played because Obi-Wan had never paid attention.

As it turned out, the first round was overlaid by a heavy philosophical argument that captured Qui-Gon's full attention, and consequentially Obi-Wan wiped the floor with the Jedi Master, beating him soundly at the game and the argument.

After the second round, Qui-Gon knew more about quantum physics, but lost almost as spectacularly. But Qui-Gon couldn't care less if he lost or not, he was having too good a time to mind either way. Amusement sparkled between them, both were relaxed and entirely comfortable with each other.

More than once, Qui-Gon caught himself staring at his host while he pondered his next move, eyes grey with concentration riveted on the board. He watched slender hands go from one piece to the other, watched with fascination when a glass was lifted to lips, when liquid wet soft lips and smooth skin moved when he swallowed.

Every time he realised he was being rude, he looked away, but once he caught Obi-Wan's eyes and only got a smile that seemed to say he knew what Qui-Gon had been doing all along and didn't mind. Of course, that smile didn't improve his concentration.

He only managed to turn the tables in the third round, when they both reached for the counter at the same time and their fingers brushed against each other. For a moment, they both lingered over the counter, their fingers touching ever so softly. Eyes met, and the spark that had been lurking in the shadows all evening flared between them anew.

Obi-Wan swallowed, obviously at a loss for words, so Qui-Gon took the initiative, curled his fingers around Obi-Wan's hand and moved both their hands to the counter. Gently, he lifted Obi-Wan's hand so that it rested over a piece and moved it into Obi-Wan's sector.

"I think that's your point." he said, almost in a whisper, his tone light. Obi-Wan could only nod. Qui-Gon released his fingers.

That round, Obi-Wan lost.

It was late when Qui-Gon finally said good night. Obi-Wan saw him to the door.

"Good night, and thank you for the excellent dinner." Qui-Gon said with a warm smile.

"It was my pleasure. Maybe we could repeat that sometime?" Obi-Wan answered, leaning against the doorframe, seemingly casual. His smile was glorious, warm and with a hint of much more.

"I'd like that a lot. So shall we meet tomorrow and I'll show you some of the lightsaber moves you wanted to learn?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Great. I'll call you on the comlink when I'm finished with my class."

Qui-Gon's smile widened. "Excellent."

He lingered. Both didn't know what to say, but neither wanted to move back into their empty quarters.

Finally, Qui-Gon smiled, a little embarrassed and roused himself to go.

Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the smile Obi-Wan gave him. Maybe it was because he'd ached to do it since the moment he'd stepped into Obi-Wan's quarters.

He raised his hand and slowly pushed a strand of hair out of Obi- Wan's face, running his fingers through his hair in a tender caress.

He let his hand fall away, said "Good night" very softly and left.

Obi-Wan stared after him for a long time, his hand on the lock of hair the Master had touched, his eyes clouded with emotion.

Qui-Gon turned a corner, then slumped against the wall, a quiet whisper leaving his lips, "Sleep well, Ben."

Qui-Gon sank down to his meditation mat and tried to calm his racing heart.

He recited the Code again and again in his mind, a quiet mantra to ease him into meditation. "There is no fear, there is the Force. There is no passion, there is serenity."

If only that were true.

~~ He would be telling a lie if he said that in twelve years of apprenticeship, attraction had never been an issue between them. Maybe more than an issue.

A touch here, a look there, never noticing that wanting to touch had turned into needing to touch, and not only casually at saber practice and kata sessions, needing to touch everywhere, lingering, softly, harder, with hands, lips, tongue. Smell skin, taste it, memorise its texture with fingertips.

All these thoughts had come to him unbidden during one kata lesson when he'd stood behind Obi-Wan to correct his stance in the opening position.

He'd had his hands on Obi-Wan's hips, the young man's back was pressed against his chest. He could feel Obi-Wan's heart beating, the bumps of his spine against his chest, could feel the heat of skin through layers of clothing and knew he wanted this forever, only much, much more skin and much less clothing. But he'd slammed down his shields and tried to ignore the heat in his groin.

So it went on for months, and not once did it occur to him that his 23-year old siren of a Padawan could possibly return the feeling.

But one night after a very taxing mission, he sat at his Padawan's feet while he massaged the Master's shoulders. The room was silent and only dimly lit, the sweet scent of massage oil filling the quarters. The only sounds were their breaths, and both seemed to have a little trouble breathing steadily.

Qui-Gon was sleepy and basked in the feel of his Padawan's hands on his shoulders and the bond that was thrumming with warmth between them.

He looked up and froze when he met smoky blue eyes filled with a desire that matched his own. He swallowed and reached up to tug Obi- Wan's braid. His Padawan had smiled and understood the little gesture for what it was. An acknowledgement of feelings shared, and a quiet request to wait.

They'd both pretty much avoided the issue afterwards, a silent truce never broken. The occasional small touch, or look, and one kiss were all that had ever happened between them, but both knew it was only a question of time. Time they had run out of on Naboo...~~

Obi-Wan sat up in his bed. If these dreams continued, he would need a Soul Healer. Not that deciphering that last one was so difficult.

He was attracted to Qui-Gon. He had known that before. Big deal.

Strangely enough, Obi-Wan, whose sexual experience was what one could call extensive, felt his attraction to Qui-Gon was a very big deal.

For the umpteenth time since the Jedi Master had left him this evening, Obi-Wan ran his hand through his hair, mimicking the touch of Qui-Gon's hand. The gesture had touched Obi-Wan all the more deeply for it's sheer innocence. It had little hint of passion, more of caring, yet the intimacy of it had left Obi-Wan breathless, his heart beating in his throat.

Forcefully, he banned the incident from his mind. After all, he needed his sleep.

He smiled to himself. After the tension he'd felt last night, saber practice sessions with Qui-Gon Jinn should turn out to be... well, stimulating

The training halls were usually well-populated with Jedi of all ages and ranks after noon, pairs or groups sparring casually or teaching new techniques, but today Hall 3 was packed, and nobody was sparring except for the pair in the centre of the room. The crowds watching them grew larger every minute as people from other halls came to see what the fuss was about.

Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi noticed none of them. They were lost in the dance of swords. Slashing, spinning, somersaulting, parrying, stepping back and forth, drawing on the Force from within and without, reacting to each other, took up all their concentration.

The fight had gone on for half an hour now, and still there was no sign of an end. Both moved at one with the Force, making bodies toned to physical perfection move with masterly skill and almost inhuman grace.

More than once, a whisper went through the crowds, when another spectacular attack had been evaded with subtle motion or a lightning fast parry.

The fighters were silent. Neither wasted breath nor concentration for talk.

In the audience, whispered wagers took shape, but mostly the spectators were silent.

From one of the balconies that overlooked the training halls, two figures watched the fight in equal silence. Ancient green eyes stared unseeingly at the pair of fighters, while Force-perception monitored both men closely.

Mace Windu shook his head. "I haven't seen sparring like this in a long time. I never knew Obi-Wan was that gifted."

Without taking his eyes or his focus from the spectacle below, Yoda answered, "Not the boy it is who has changed. Noticed the difference in Qui-Gon, you have?"

Mace nodded.

"Knew it, I did. Right, the partnership would have been from the start. Now, maybe, their true potential both can fulfil."

Mace frowned, "What do you mean, Master?"

But Yoda just shook his head, indicating that no explanation would be forthcoming, as was so often the case with the cryptic troll.

"Heard that, I did."

The most wise and revered Senior Master troll.

Yoda chuckled. The gimer stick made light contact with the shins of the taller man."Respect, Master Windu."

Mace grinned. "Yes, Master."

As he watched the crowd grow around the fighters, Mace Windu had an inspiration. "If you would excuse me, Master." He nodded at Yoda and left.

Yoda hardly noticed the other Master's leaving, too fascinating was what was happening below. The fighting was good, but Yoda was more interested in the way the Force moved around the two men, flowing from one to the other, growing stronger with every spin, every parry, every wave of energy between them. The Force seemed to connect them, twining their Force signatures together, almost binding two Force capabilities, making it possible for the two of them to draw strength from each other. He sighed. What a team they would have made.

But Yoda also noticed tiny fluctuations in the Force stream that connected the two, small glitches in Qui-Gon's Force presence.

He sighed again. "Allowed, it should never have been. But the will of the Force it was. To question, my place is not," he whispered to himself, then turned and left. He knew it was inconsequential who would win this fight.

In the end, these two would win together or lose together.

Qui-Gon was slowly going numb with exhaustion, but still his saber was moving. He just hoped the match would end soon and spare him the embarrassment of collapsing with exhaustion.

There it was, the tiny opening in Obi-Wan's defence he had been looking for. His lightsaber moved so fast the movement was barely perceptible and before Obi-Wan could react, Qui-Gon's lightsaber touched his neck.

Obi-Wan mock-dropped to the mats and grinned, panting with exhaustion.

Applause sounded from around them and it was only then that they noticed their quite large audience.

Qui-Gon saluted them and went over to Obi-Wan. He looked down at the grinning Knight with a smile of his own. "You fought very well."

Obi-Wan's grin broadened, "Thank you. So did you."

The crowd was slowly dispersing, so Qui-Gon leaned down. "You can get up anytime now."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, I can't. If I move now, my arms will fall off."

Qui-Gon sat down next to him with a sigh of relief and exhaustion. "And I thought I was getting old."

"Well, if this is how one fights when one gets old, I think I'm looking forward to it." Obi-Wan replied with a wink. He crossed his arms behind his head. "You know, this whole not being able to move thing has a distinct disadvantage. I'm thirsty."

"In that case, allow me." A deep voice answered and both men on the floor looked up at Mace Windu.

Obi-Wan smiled at the Council Member when he handed the young man who was still lying on the floor a bottle of water. "Thank you, Master Windu."

Windu nodded at the Knight, and observed, in a deceptively neutral tone of voice that made Qui-Gon uneasy with apprehension, "That was quite a sparring match."

Obi-Wan blushed slightly. "Thank you. Master Jinn was just showing me some tricks."

Qui-Gon made a disclaiming gesture. "Oh, no, we were showing each other some tricks. That spinning and slashing manoeuvre at the end of the Fifth Battle Routine is brilliant, by the way."

Obi-Wan blushed further. "Thank you."

Mace nodded knowingly. "Yes, you two are excellent fighters and the way you taught each other is quite impressive."

Now Obi-Wan, too, recognised the tone of voice. He sat up and turned to Qui-Gon, stage-whispering, "I have a very."

".bad feeling about this?" Qui-Gon finished for him.

Obi-Wan nodded, stunned.

The Jedi Master sighed. "I agree."

He turned to Windu, ready to cut through the diplomatic gibberish. "What do you want, Mace?"

Windu seemed put out. "What makes you think I want something just because I commented on your excellent teamwork?"

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan just stared at him wordlessly.

He sighed, "All right, so maybe it has crossed my mind that you two could teach an advanced lightsaber class I haven't been able to assign to anyone yet."

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan exchanged a look. "We'll do it." They said almost at the same time.

"Now before you say no, I just want to point out that it's just twice a week, and for ranks above Knight only, and since you... wait, what did you say?" Mace interrupted his rant to look at his victims.

Obi-Wan smiled, "We said yes."

Mace was stunned. Both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were renowned for their stubbornness and especially Qui-Gon was known not to be the most social of individuals, so he scrutinised both men very carefully, looking for signs that he was the victim of some kind of joke, but all he saw was eager acceptance, or the Jedi equivalent, so he smiled, "I'll consider it fixed, then, and post an announcement tomorrow. I bet after today's spectacle, you two will have a lot of students." With a final nod of thanks, he left them.

Qui-Gon mock-sighed heavily. "One can't even spar casually without being assigned work in this place."

He tried for frustrated, but his sparkling eyes gave away how much he looked forward to the challenge. A little voice in his head tsked that it was hardly the challenge he was happy about, but this class was the perfect excuse to do what he wanted most: spend more time with Obi-Wan.

The young Knight had trouble suppressing a grin at Qui-Gon's long- suffering tone. "We live but to serve, Master."

Qui-Gon flinched almost imperceptibly. He suppressed the urge to ruffle through the Knight's hair and call him brat. Instead, he gave the young man a stern look and wrinkled his nose. "If the young man is capable of movement again, one would suggest a shower."

Obi-Wan grinned indecently, but refrained from comment.

This time, Qui-Gon couldn't resist. He poked Obi-Wan's ribs and said, mock-sternly, "Brat!" Obi-Wan giggled and was on his feet in no time.

Qui-Gon grinned smugly, "I seem to be a miracle healer. The patient can move again."

Obi-Wan backed away when Qui-Gon rose as well with a predatory air. He grabbed Bant, who had just entered the training hall, by the shoulders and aimed her at Qui-Gon, "Don't come any closer, I have a Padawan, and I'm not afraid to use her."

Qui-Gon chuckled and advanced on the young man with a threatening air, his index finger wiggling at the direction of Obi-Wan's ribs. "That's what you get for being cheeky to your elders."

Obi-Wan turned Bant around and hid behind his friend. "Protect me, Bant. He tickled me."

Bant winked at Qui-Gon and in a flash, turned to Obi-Wan and started to work on his ribs with her own fingers. "You mean like this?"

Obi-Wan laughed and squirmed, but managed to escape Bant's attacks. Panting with laughter, all three stood doubled over, trying to catch their breath.

When he could speak again, Obi-Wan turned to Bant. "Traitor."

Bant giggled, waved a short goodbye and went to join her Master, who had just arrived for their sparring match.

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon moved to the changing rooms, still catching their breath and grinning. A comfortable silence settled between them as they stripped off their workout clothes for a quick shower. Since both weren't that comfortable around each other yet, they automatically moved to different cubicles to undress and shower.

When they were dressed again, Obi-Wan broke the silence, "How did you know what I was going to say?"

Qui-Gon frowned, "When?"

"Before, when Master Windu approached us, and I started to say I have a bad feeling about this, and you finished for me. How did you know what I wanted to say?"

Qui-Gon shrugged, "I just had a bad feeling and thought you agreed." Not a very good explanation, but better than "You always say that."

Obi-Wan nodded, not quite convinced, but willing to give Qui-Gon the benefit of doubt. "Dinner tonight in the cafeteria? I'm too exhausted to cook."

Qui-Gon nodded. "With pleasure. We can start planning the classes."

Obi-Wan smiled. "Good. See you later, then."

Qui-Gon nodded, and Obi-Wan left.

Qui-Gon sighed. Sometimes, he just wished he could tell Obi-Wan the truth. But it would only upset him unnecessarily. The voice inside his head snorted. Right, Jinn, you're just terrified he'll hate you. Well, there was that, too.

He closed his eyes and released his regret into the Force. I'm sorry, Padawan. The thought escaped over the bond before he could stop it. No matter. The bond was dead anyway. He buried his head in his hands and groaned in frustration.

I'm sorry, Padawan Obi-Wan froze mid-stride. He turned around, but the hallway was empty. Frustrated, he pushed a hand through his hair. Great, now he was hearing voices. Well, voices was exaggerated. He heard a voice. Qui-Gon's voice. He shook his head. Maybe the Mind Healer was not such a bad idea.

Obi-Wan lounged on the sofa in his quarters when the door chime went off. He sent a probing thought out and smiled when he discovered the identity of his visitor.

Too exhausted to get up, he just called, "Come in, Adi."

The door opened and his former Master strolled in. He gave her a brilliant smile, but she didn't return it. She just stood at the foot end of the couch and looked down at him, a wistful expression on her face.

Obi-Wan's smile faded, "What is it?"

She sighed. "Nothing, really."

She sat down next to him on the couch, facing him, and ran her hand through his hair in a gesture that oddly reminded him of Qui-Gon.

"I saw you spar today. You were brilliant," Adi said quietly.

Obi-Wan coloured, pleased with his former Master's praise. He took her hand and absently traced the lines on her palm with his fingers, "Thank you. But why does that make you sad?"

Adi sighed again. "Maybe I'm afraid that Yoda might have been right after all. Maybe I'm uncertain if I didn't do you a disservice by taking you as my apprentice."

Obi-Wan sat up, concerned. "What are you talking about?"

She turned her hand around in his and grabbed his hand in a firm, reassuring grip. "I should not tell you this. Or I should have told you long ago. When I first saw you spar, you were eleven. I wanted to take you as my Padawan immediately, but Master Yoda refused me. When I challenged him for his reasons, he said he foresaw a different path for you. After a year you were still an initiate, and again I pressed Yoda to allow me to train you. Then, he agreed. He said he could not sacrifice your future just because Qui-Gon was too stubborn to take another Padawan."

It took a while for Obi-Wan to process the implications of what his Master had said. When he spoke, his voice held an edge of hurt. "So Master Yoda wanted me to be Qui-Gon's Padawan, but he refused me?"

Adi shook her head, "I don't think he refused you as much as he refused to take any Padawan."

He raised his head and with difficulty met her eyes. "So you regret taking me as a Padawan?"

Adi looked genuinely shocked and leaned forward to enfold her former apprentice in a hug. "Never, Padawan. Never. You were a joy to train and the light of my life. I could not have been luckier. It is you I worry about, Obi-Wan. When I saw you spar with Qui-Gon today, I thought that if he'd changed his mind and taken you as a Padawan, then maybe he would have been a better Master to you than me."

Obi-Wan hugged her back fiercely. "Don't think that. You were the best Master I could have wished for."

She cradled his head against her shoulder to soothe the outburst of emotion from her former apprentice. "I was blessed to have you in my life, Ben."

Obi-Wan drew away, a smile on his face despite the tears that choked his throat. He ran his fingers down Adi's cheek. "So was I, Master."

Qui-Gon watched his dinner companion with growing concern. Not only was Obi-Wan unusually quiet, but he also seemed to have little appetite. All his attempts at conversation had been met with little more than monosyllabic answers from the young Knight, and Qui-Gon had started to worry.

Now, after twenty minutes of silence, he was genuinely worried.

"Are you all right?" he asked, reaching over the table to grab Obi- Wan's arm.

The young Knight looked up and forced a smile. "I'm fine, just a little tired. It's not every day you get chased around the saber court by Qui-Gon Jinn, after all."

Qui-Gon smiled back and tried to add to Obi-Wan's attempt to lighten the mood by rubbing his shoulder and sighing, "As to who did the chasing this afternoon, I venture no comment."

Obi-Wan's smile grew more genuine. "Well, youth does have its advantages."

Qui-Gon fixed the young Knight with a stare. "Did you just ever so subtly imply that I'm old?"

Obi-Wan had the courtesy to at least pretend to look offended. "Master Jinn, would I do that?"

Qui-Gon grunted. "Spare me a comment."

The young man just grinned in response.

"Anyway, we seem to be well equipped for the course. We were able to teach each other, after all." Qui-Gon mused.

Obi-Wan's grin faded. The Knight nodded and once again, silence settled. When they finished dinner, Obi-Wan excused himself, claiming tiredness, and promised to meet Qui-Gon the next day for sparring.

Qui-Gon looked after the young man. Tiredness.

He shook his head. Obi-Wan was still such a lousy liar.