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Warnings: unbetaed

Archive: If you want it, it's yours

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Spoilers: None

Category: Humor

Summery: Obi-Wan gives his master a fashion lesson.

Rating: PG for mild language

Disclaimer: Star Wars isn't mine. No profit is being made from this story.

Shyly, Obi-Wan approached his master. The man was reading a data pad while lounging in his favorite chair. How long would it take for him to notice his new look? "Hi master."

"Hello, Padawan," Qui-Gon said without looking up from his data pad.

"How was your day?"

"Fine."

Obi-Wan waited for his master to look up. He didn't. So he asked another question. "What did you do while I was in classes today?"

"Read. The same thing I trying to do now."

"Oh." Once again, the man didn't bother to look up.

How was he going to get his master to look at him? Conversation didn't work. An idea struck him.

"Master Yoda showed me a home video of you."

"He what?" Qui-Gon put down the data pad and finally looked at his padawan. Upon seeing Obi-Wan, he blinked, Yoda's videos forgotten. "What in the Seven Sith-Hells happened to your braid?"

"It's blue."

"Yes, I can see that. It was a rhetorical question." Qui-Gon sighed. "Why is it blue?"

"It matches my eyes. Bant said I should be color-coordinated."

Qui-Gon furrowed his brows. At least it sounded logical, in an Obi-Wanish way. "And what's wrong with your natural hair color?"

"This is more a la mode; less plain," Obi-Wan said. "You want me to be trendy, don't you?"

Qui-Gon didn't have the heart to tell the boy that he couldn't care less. "Is that earring fashionable as well?"

"Very."

"And the fake tattoo?"

"No. I thought that I'd add a rebellious twist to my new look."

"The twisty-lines make you look very rebellious," Qui-Gon humored the boy.

"Puleeeze Master." Old people were so slow! "This is Tamarian Tribal Knot-Work. Very trendy."

"I see." Qui-Gon's gaze lowered to his apprentice's boots and the bits of silver dangling from them. "What are the chains for? Are they fashionable too?"

Obi-Wan didn't grace the stupid question with a verbal answer. It didn't deserve one. He just nodded.

"And the necklaces?"

Obi-Wan nodded.

"The eyeliner?"

Another nod.

"Are those my leggings you are wearing?"

"Baggy is in this year. Only dorks wear pants that fit."

"What's a dork?"

"Someone who doesn't wear loose pants."

"What ever." Qui-Gon picked up his data pad. "I'll expect you cleaned up and ready to go to a council meeting in an hour."

"But master, I *am* ready to go."

Qui-Gon laughed. The boy couldn't be serious. "Don't forget to take those things off your boots and wash the blue stuff out of your hair."

Take the chains off of his boots? Wash the blue out of his hair? His Master must be joking.

Qui-Gon continued giving instructions. "Your good tunic is on the table. Make sure you put on a clean pair of leggings."

Qui-Gon didn't look like he was joking; didn't sound like it either. "But Master, I'm wearing this. The blue won't wash out of my hair. It's permanent."

"What?" Qui-Gon put down the data pad. Of all of the stupid things.... "One way or another, that blue is coming out of your hair."

"With all due respect Master, it's my hair and my decision."

Qui-Gon stood up. The big man towered over the boy. Obi-Wan cringed. "When you become a knight, you may keep your hair any color you wish. Until then, I will not have my padawan looking like a freak."

A freak? His master thought he looked like a freak? "Well, at least I don't look like an crusty old dork."

Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed in warning. Obi-Wan didn't heed it.

"You wear 'Old Man' boots. And that hairstyle of yours is so out-dated that it's pathetic. You use a leather tie, yet they inverted hair elastics ten zillion years ago. Your tunics look like Master Yoda has had them in deep-storage for centuries. And what's with the wide-legged leggings? Your beard--"

Obi-Wan didn't finish the description of his master's fashion woes, as he found himself being dragged to the door by his blue braid.

"Ouch! Wait! I'm sorry! You're not a dork after all! You're boots look very nice. Ouch!"

The temple was treated to the sight of Qui-Gon Jinn dragging his padawan through the temple by a blue braid. Down twenty stories and to the east wing they went, to the temple stores. The entire time, they were met with curious looks from Masters and knights, and giggles from padawans and initiates. Qui-Gon ignored them with masterly aplomb, Obi-Wan however, blushed and squirmed.

Qui-Gon finally deposited his padawan in front of the droid in charge of stores. "The boy needs to remove blue dye from his hair."

The droid inspected the hair and produced something to wash it out.

The master dragged his student back through the halls of the temple, back to their quarters. Once home, Qui-Gon pushed his padawan into the bathroom. "Get that crap out of your hair."

"Yes Master."

Fifteen minuets later, a freshly scrubbed Obi-Wan emerged from the bathroom. His clothes were back to normal, his tattoo washed off, and the metal cleansed from his boots. His braid still held traces of blue and looked a little frizzy, but was passable. Obi-Wan studied his new split-ends with dismay.

"Now you look snazzy," Qui-Gon complimented padawan.

"Snazzy?"

"You know, spiffy. Cool. Hip. Wizard."

Obi-Wan didn't know what those archaic words meant. They sounded insulting. "Are you saying that I look like a dork, just like you?"

The End