Spoilers: Nyet! Or plain ol' English "no," if you prefer. =)
Archive: Master and Apprentice, yes; anyone else who feels like
honoring me, go right ahead, don't let me stop you. Just leave
my name on there.
Rating: I dunno.
Warning: Lessee . . . "Short-term Neuron Failure" + "Fun-Loving
Sarcastic Prankster" x "Caffeine (See: Bucket o' Coffee)" =
"How has she lived this long?! Somebody find C-3PO to
interpret this!"
Summary: Sequel to "Padawan Story Hour." It's Obi-Wan's turn to
spill the beans.
Disclaimer: "All I want for Christmas is my two Jedi naked-"
(sheepish grin) Oh, sorry. I digress. Lessee now . . . I had it
here a minute ago . . . (goes diving into half-baked gray clay
in search of Important Memo). I tell ya (tosses dust bunny out
the ear), when it gets to be like this (lays in extra feed and
bedding for the plot bunnies), it's all you can do to - ah-ha!
Gotcha! (grabs hold of Important Memo and wrestles it
out of the murk) Here we go; it says: "I don't own Qui-Gon or
Obi-Wan; they and the Star Wars universe belongs to George "The
Man" Lucas. Everything else is mine." (blinkz) Oh, hold the
transport! I went through all o' that, feeling like I
wrestled a tribe of hopped-up Banthas, just to state the
obvious?! (grumbles and phooeys) Somebody get me a life!
Or at least a straightjacket. And monogrammed! I want a
monogrammed straightjacket. And as long as I'm dreaming, I'd
like to have Qui-Gon, too, but that's really stretching it,
don't ya think?
Feedback: I'm going to be daringly different and use one of my
other e-mail addies! Just look at all this bravado; yup,
I'm a born leader. Or just a born annoyance. Either way, I'm
having fun! Whoopee! Ahhhh . . .yah, okay, here it is:
rogue10@hotmail.com
"Well, you look decidedly less purple today."
"Good morning, my Master. That's all you can think of to say?"
"Good morning, my Padawan. No. Your green spots are gone, too."
"Your conversational skills continue to astound me. Are you
here to entertain me again, Master?"
"I'm glad to know I'm still good for mundane things with you.
And no, as a matter of fact, I'm not here to entertain
you. I'm here to be entertained."
"You are always good with me in whatever you choose, my Master.
How, pray tell, am I supposed to entertain you when I'm
confined to this bed because I'm ill, as you and the Healers
continue to insist?"
"Thank you, Padawan. And you are not so ill that you cannot
talk, or don't you remember that you're supposed to tell me how
long it took you to realize that you had fallen in love with
your aging Master?"
"Lean closer so that I may whap you with this pillow for saying
such slander, Master."
"No, thank you, my Obi-Wan. You were quite enthusiastic enough
in your role of 'The Mad Doofer' last night to the point that
you gave me a slight headache. I'd rather not have a repeat
performance."
"Slander yourself again, my Qui-Gon, and I'll do better than
'slight' when I get hold of you."
"There are so many ways that statement could be taken. While
several possibilities do intrigue me, I believe you owe me a
tale."
"Humans don't have tails."
"No, but you do have a rather attractive bottom that will
attract the flat of my hand to it if you continue to avoid
answering me."
"What is this? A Jedi Love Confession?"
"Adequately put, apprentice."
"Sounds like some kind of game show, and we've been that route
before."
"But the prize is worth it, so let the game begin."
"How so, Master?"
"Because the prize is the answer to what you see in a man my -
alright, alright, I give. Put the pillow down, my love."
"Hmph. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you say such things
simply to get a rise out of me."
"Other options are unavailable to me at the moment, so I make
do with what's handy. Now stop stalling, love."
"Stall? Me? Master, would I do a thing like that?"
"You're doing it now, and I don't appreciate it."
"You're right. I'm sorry, Qui-Gon."
"Forgiven, love. Why is it so difficult for you to speak of?"
"Perhaps because I came to my realization more . . . gradually,
than you did."
"Ah. How so?"
"Well, I have always known I loved you, and for what reasons. I
loved you first, then I desired you."
"Would you like to tell me how you came to realized you love
me?"
"Yes, actually. But I don't know if I can. It's hard to put so
much love into mere words."
"I understand, my love. If it's too difficult-"
"Difficult, yes, but in no way unpleasant. I'll try my best,
Qui-Gon, because I want you to know how much I love you."
"I love you as well, my Obi-Wan. Take all the time you need."
"Hah! Hope you don't mind waiting for an eon or two, love."
"As long as I have you with me, Obi-Wan, I could cheerfully
spend all eternity waiting."
"That's about what it's shaping up to be. Well, let's see;
where's the best place to begin . . .? Ah, I've got. Do you
remember that horrendous mission to Belursi Minor?"
"Yes. But you were fifteen at the time."
"So? Age has nothing to do with it, as I've been trying to whap
into that thick skull of yours. But the Belursi Minor mission
wasn't when I realized my love for you. It was later, after
we'd returned to Coruscant in the morning. Point of fact, it
was while we were relaxing - or trying to - that evening . . ."
"Master?"
"Yes, Padawan? What's wrong?" Qui-Gon asked his
fifteen-year-old apprentice as they walked along the Temple
hallways.
They were heading back to their quarters after a meditation
session they had both felt they desperately needed. The mission
they had recently finished on Belursi Minor had been rife with
betrayal, greed, subterfuge, and murder. It had left them
feeling tainted, and so they had spent hours in meditation,
only just having rid themselves of the feeling of taint.
Now Obi-Wan looked up at his master and said, "Nothing
wrong, really. I just . . . don't want to sleep alone
tonight, my Master. I want to spend some time in the presence
of someone with whom I'm completely comfortable."
Qui-Gon stared down at his young friend. He should have said
something properly wise about how they were never alone as long
as they had the Force; he could have asked his young charge why
he did not feel comfortable with friends his own age. He could
simply have said, "no."
He did neither of these things because he did not feel like
being the wise and stoic Jedi Master just then, anymore than he
felt like being alone himself. And while he did have friends
closer to his own age and rank, he understood Obi-Wan's need,
and would not deny his young friend that comfort, nor that
trust. Ever since he had accepted the young man as his Padawan
Learner, the two of them, even from the first, had started a
close bond, and that bond had only become stronger as their
time together passed. So much stronger that they were close
friends, and never truly tired of each other's company.
Reaching out, he gently squeezed one of Obi-Wan's shoulders and
gave his young friend a small smile. "So would I, Padawan; so
would I."
Obi-Wan smiled up at his master in relief and gratitude.
"Go gather your overnight things and come to my quarters,
Obi-Wan. You may sleep over tonight and tomorrow morning, we'll
do katas together, then have breakfast."
The young man bowed. "Yes, Master. Thank you, Master."
"Run along with you then." The older man watched his Padawan
walk down the hallway, then called out as an afterthought. "And
Obi-Wan . . .?"
The Padawan turned to face him. "Yes, Master?"
Qui-Gon grinned at him. "I have acquired a new game. Feel up to
a challenge?"
Obi-Wan grinned back. "If you're in that much of a hurry to
lose to me, Master, who am I to argue?"
"Brave talk, Padawan. Scoot, gather your things, and come to my
quarters so you may receive the trouncing you deserve!"
Obi-Wan laughed as he turned and walked rapidly to his quarters
so he could gather his overnight things. His heart, he noticed,
was beating with that strange new warmth he'd been feeling
lately whenever he was in his master's presence.
"What did you say, Padawan?"
"I said, you're cheating. And apparently going deaf as well, if
you missed it the first time around," Obi-Wan muttered with a
small grin.
The two Jedi had started a game called "Dominoes," in which
each player repeated a process of selecting seven tiles with
numerous dots of different denominations on them from a pile at
the beginning of each game. The sequence was to find a tile
with the same number of dots on each half of it, then use that
as the starting point and work their way down the scale, trying
to get rid of their tiles before they reached a stalemate. This
process was repeated over and over until they had worked their
way down the scale of "dot rank." The player who ended up with
the most points lost. And at the moment, Obi-Wan had
seventy-five more points than his master.
Qui-Gon gave his Padawan a mock-affronted look. "How can you
sit there and accuse me of cheating, Obi-Wan? I'm playing no
differently than you are."
"This is true. However, I have read the rules for the game,
Master, and this method you've chosen for us seems to be . . .
off-course."
"Well, I have played this game with some of the other
Masters. I decided to make it easier on you and bent the rules
slightly, so that you may get accustomed to the rhythm of the
game."
"Master, these rules are so bent they're screaming for mercy.
Just play straight next time, okay?" Obi-Wan grinned slyly at
the older man. "Or can you not stomach your apprentice
trouncing you in a game even Masters have difficulty with?"
Qui-Gon gave his young charge a dangerous smile even as he
chuckled huskily to himself. "Let's set up for the next round,
Padawan, and we'll see who screams for mercy."
Obi-Wan laughed and helped his master shuffle the tiles around.
They selected their tiles and began playing. A half-hour later,
when the round was over, Obi-Wan noticed with glee that he had
only one tile, whereas his master had four laying in front of
him. He glanced down at his tile. One half of it was blank, the
other half had only four dots on it. He grabbed up the tile in
his fist, listening to his master count out his own points.
Giddy with laughter, general happiness, and a release of a
galaxy-load of tension, Obi-Wan triumphantly thrust the tile he
held out to his master, shoving it right under Qui-Gon's nose.
As the startled Master blinked and sat back, staring in
puzzlement at the game piece, Obi-Wan declared emphatically,
"Four!!"
For half a second, neither of them moved nor made a sound. Then
Qui-Gon cracked up, burying his head in his arms as he slumped
over the table, his roars of laughter muffled, his shoulders
shaking helplessly.
That set Obi-Wan off and for the next few moments, Qui-Gon's
quarters rang with howls and yelps of laughter, the two Jedi
pounding the table.
Obi-Wan managed to calm down first and, still giggling
slightly, he watched as Qui-Gon leaned back in his chair,
gasping for air even as he continued to laugh. The Master was
clutching his stomach, tears of hilarity leaking from his
tightly closed eyes.
Poor Qui-Gon, he thought to himself. He must've
really needed this release from tension a lot more than I
did. The Padawan grimaced slightly to himself. Well, no
wonder. The man only did the diplomatic work of four people
while instructing me on the finer points of the process. Then
we had to fight off murderers and thieves as well. It's amazing
how he salvaged most of the mission.
The younger man gazed thoughtfully at his master, watching as
the older man slumped back in his chair, panting softly. His
head was titled back and his eyes were closed, his lips shaped
in a small smile, his hair tumbling loose about his face and
shoulders.
And suddenly, unbidden, every reason that Obi-Wan cared for his
master flashed through his tightly shielded mind, ranging from
Qui-Gon's compassion to his ability to smooth many problems
easily. He found himself noticing that what he really loved
about his master was the fact that Qui-Gon still knew how to
laugh and relax, even after all the older man had witnessed
during his career as a Jedi.
The Padawan went still as realization hit him. Oh, Force
save me . . . I love him.
Qui-Gon opened his eyes then, his smile fading as he noticed
his Padawan's sudden seriousness. "What's wrong, Obi-Wan?"
The younger man blinked and looked at him. Then he smiled and
said, "Nothing, Master. I believe I just realized how precious
these moments are when we relax and let loose."
The older man smiled at his friend and said, "Yes, Padawan,
they are. I'm glad that you have realized this, that it is
important to take as much time and care for ourselves as the
people we serve."
Obi-Wan simply grinned and nodded as they set up for another
round of the game.
Later that evening, as they settled in for sleep - Qui-Gon
still proclaiming innocence against accusations of cheating -
Obi-Wan snuggled into the blankets and smiled as he listened to
Qui-Gon immediately ease into a restful sleep.
I'd better not say anything to him about how I feel just
yet. I'll probably get a lecture about infatuation, and maybe
scare him off before I'm old enough for him to take me
seriously, the young man thought to himself. In the
meantime, I can be content with the fact that I am at his side
when he needs someone he can depend on.
With that final thought, he went to sleep.
"And that's when I realized I'd fallen in love with you,
Qui-Gon."
"Hmm. It was a good idea to wait until you were older. While
you wouldn't have scared me off, you were correct: I would not
have taken you seriously."
"Which is why I waited."
"So . . . You knew your heart so well even then, my Obi-Wan?"
"Yes, my Qui-Gon. You are my heart."
"I love you too, precious one. Now, tell me about when you
first desired me."
"Knowing when I realized my love for you isn't enough?"
"No. I want to know what you found so attractive in an old-"
"Qui-Gon!"
"-er man."
"Hmph. Sneaky son of a . . ."
"And don't you forget it. Now sing, Padawan."
". . . My wild Irish Rose . . ."
"Ha, ha, ha. Stop stalling!"
"Again with the accusations of stalling!"
"Because they're true. Why are you - waitaminute. Didn't
you say that you came to your realization gradually?"
"Yes."
"That wasn't all that gradual, Padawan. In fact, that was more
or less the same amount of time it took for me. So, if it
wasn't the love part that was incredibly 'gradual,' then
it was the desire part?"
"Yes."
"You needn't sound so upset about it, Obi-Wan. I, myself, am
glad that you desire me at all. And don't glower at me like a
rabid Rancor; I didn't mean because of my age. I was simply
stating an opinion."
"Sorry."
"Not half as sorry as you're going to be if you keep stalling.
Please, my love, it would mean a lot to me."
"I may be stalling, but you're cheating. As usual."
"Shamelessly, but it's the only way I can win against you, my
imp. Now, then, please?"
"All right. Do you remember when we were invited to the Queen
of Derazan's twenty-eighth birthday celebration?"
"Yes! That was a fun one. What about it?"
"Do you recall her cousin, who was also in attendance?"
"You mean that beautiful, highly entertaining young woman? The
one that jumped in front of the Queen to take the unexpected
assassin's bullets?"
"Yes, well . . ."
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were in a small antechamber the morning
after an insane assassination attempt on the young Queen of
Derazan's life while said monarch stalked around the small room
in a pique.
Queen Rolanalei was in her late twenties; a young, dynamic,
wonderful ruler with a good heart and a keen, quick mind, as
well as a firm sense of justice. She was also about four feet,
nine inches tall. This didn't faze the Jedi who, from their
association with Master Yoda, knew that grenades were small as
well, and could be almost as dangerous. Almost.
At the moment, the diminutive dignitary was stalking back and
forth in the area between the two Jedi and the door, a worried
expression on her pretty face.
"Rolana, please calm down," Qui-Gon said to his long-standing
friend.
"You calm down, Qui-Gon," Rolana snapped back. "I've a
perfect right to be upset."
If he calms down any further, he'll be comatose, Obi-Wan
thought flippantly to himself. He loved and respected his
master, but there were times when even he couldn't resist
digging at Qui-Gon's perpetual serenity.
"Yes, I know that, but getting yourself all stirred up won't
help you to think clearly. Look on the bright side: The
assassin was captured, he was acting completely on his own
insane compulsions, and Brianna is expected to recover with
hardly any difficulty," Qui-Gon said calmly.
Rolana sighed as she stopped pacing for a moment, facing them.
"You're right. Thank any and all the gods for Bacta. After
taking shots to the chest and left leg . . . But dammit,
Qui-Gon, she shouldn't have done it in the first place!"
"Are you arguin' about this 'cause you're layin' dead in the
morgue right now, Cuz?" a lazy, sultry female voice drawled
from the doorway.
Looking up, Obi-Wan viciously tamped down on his body's natural
reaction to the vision before him. A stunningly beautiful young
woman slowly limped into the room, apparently clad in a
shimmering dark blue silk robe and nothing else covering her
curvaceous form. Her hair hung in tangled, auburn disarray down
her back, her green eyes slightly heavy-lidded. She had a
teasing smile shaping her incredibly attractive mouth. All in
all, the seventeen-year-old Padawan liked what he saw.
Rolana, on the other hand, wasn't quite so happy.
"Brianna! What do you think you're doing out of bed?!"
"I think I'm gonna go deaf if you keep that decibel level up,
Cuz," the tall young woman sassed back. Then her eyes lighted
on the table that sat against one wall, covered with warm
dishes piled with various foods, and she made a victorious
gesture with one fist as she said, "Wherever there's food to be
scarfed . . . I'll be there!"
Obi-Wan grinned, recognizing a fellow sarcastic prankster,
albeit a more conspicuous one, and watched as the Queen took
the bait hook, line, and sinker.
"Are you insane, Brie? You were shot!"
"Thanks for the news flash, Rolly," Brianna muttered as she
stopped in front of the buffet table. A wide, delighted grin
spread across her face as she observed the available variety of
foods before her. Gathering up a plate and a serving utensil,
she sighed contentedly to herself as she said, "Oh, happy
decadence." Dishing up her food, she added, "I really need
t' get shot more often if'n this is the reward."
Rolana bristled and the two Jedi glanced at each other, then
settled back as the two women worked out their tension.
"That's not funny, Brie."
"Lighten up, Rolly."
"Get back in bed this instant, or I'll have the Jedi put you
there!"
"Try it, you pocket-sized picklehead, an' I'll smack ya across
the castle an' back! Besides which, those Force-boys got
too much survival instinct t' stick their sabers into this!"
"Stop being stubborn, you green-eyed witch, and go rest!"
"That's green-eyed wonder, short-sheet, and don't you
forget it!" Brie finished piling her plate full of goodies and
turned and slowly limped towards the chairs that were behind
the two Jedi. She gave them a wild grin and a nod by way of
greeting, and they returned it with courteous half-bows,
Obi-Wan adding a small grin.
"Brie, why won't you be sensible and go lay down and
rest?" Rolana demanded as she walked beside her younger cousin,
glaring up at the taller woman.
"Rolly, darlin', I'm alive," Brie said as she rolled her
eyes. Then she stopped and swept her eyes up and down the tall
form of the Jedi Master and said with a grin and a wink, "And
oh, sugar, wouldn't I love t' prove it with you!"
Qui-Gon gave her a smile that was both gracious and amused as
he half-bowed again.
"Brianna!" Rolanalei gasped, shocked at her cousin's
blatant teasing.
Brie rolled her eyes again and shuffled past the Jedi,
muttering, "Listen t' you, Rolly. An official Queen f'r
all o' five minutes, an' ya already sound like an old
woman."
"I do not," Rolana grumbled, then went ahead to the
comfortable chairs Brie was aiming for and pulled a small table
over for Brie's plate to rest on.
Brianna flashed a grin at all of them and said, "Oh, look,
she's finally comin' around."
"Oh, no, I'm not! Since you're acting like a recalcitrant cow
and ignoring me, I'll let you stay up to eat, but after that,
you're going right back to bed," Rolana declared. "What do you
say about that?"
"Moo."
Obi-Wan laughed along with his master and a reluctant
Rolanalei, but he was also surreptitiously glancing at Qui-Gon,
wondering what it was about his master this morning that had so
openly attracted the beautiful young Brianna.
("You mean, instead of being attracted to the beautiful young
Obi-Wan?" "Master, I'm trying to tell a story here. If you'd
rather not hear it, I'll gladly stop in order to whap you
upside that thick skull of yours yet again with my handy
pillow." "That's quite all right, Padawan, but no, thank you.
please, forgive me my outburst, and continue." "Hmph.
Silver-tongued spawn of a devil." "And you love me for it. Now,
you were looking me over - which, by the way, I was wondering
about on that particular morning." "Oh, gee, thanks for
destroying the illusion that I'd done it covertly." "Anytime,
Padawan, anytime. Continue. And stop using such vulgar language
when you grumble." "Picky, picky. Anyway . . .")
Nothing about his master seemed physically different. Qui-Gon
was dressed in his usual Jedi attire, his hair was neatly
combed and pulled back from his face, his beard evenly trimmed.
His manner was calm and collected, as usual. True, his master
was a handsome man, but what was it that would cause such a
blatant reaction as given by the young woman?
Later that evening, as Obi-Wan watched Qui-Gon perform his
katas, dressed only in his loose breeches. He enjoyed the sight
of the flow of the older man's muscles as he went through his
routines, but he still could not see anything different. He
himself felt no differently.
And that was why, for the longest time - at least to a young
man in love - Obi-Wan wondered if there was something wrong
with himself. Happily, he eventually discovered that he was
perfectly fine, which led up to their current relationship.
"Eventually, Obi-Wan?"
"Yes. You see, I have never been able to pinpoint when it was,
exactly, that I began desiring you. Clearly, that incident with
Rolana and Brie got me to thinking about you in a physical way,
but I didn't suddenly start wanting you that way right then. I
was so worried that something might have been wrong with me
that one day I realized I had begun desiring you; I just
didn't know when. Never have, and I probably never will.
I'm not going to let it aggravate me, though. It all worked out
for the best."
"Yes, I'd dare say so. I have you and you have me. What more
could we need?"
"My clean bill of health?"
"True, there is that. It has been a while since we've engaged
in any . . . strenuous activity."
"Hmm. Couldn't find anyone to relieve the tedium of solo
workout sessions, my Master?"
"No. Not that I looked, anyway. I'm already well aware that you
are the only one who can make me enjoy my workout to the
fullest extent, my Obi-Wan."
Archive 