Shambles

by Keelywolfe (keelywolfe@aol.com)

Author's webpage: http://www.ravenswing.com/~keelywolfe/

Rating: PG

Archive: Sure

Category: Pre-Slash

Summary: A ficlet based on this quote: 'My life is a shambles...I need pie.

Disclaimer: Property of George Lucas and Co. Do not remove this tag upon penalty of law.

Author's Notes: It's been a long, long time since I wrote TPM. I mean, way long. So I decided to try a little ficlet before I wrote anything extravagant. This is what I came up with. ^_^

Also, a while back I posted a story called 'Within This Lonely Space' and I didn't get to reply to any of the LOC's I got because my mail ate them. So, thank you everyone who wrote and I'm sorry I couldn't write back.

Spoilers: Mild ones for AOTC, I suppose.

The pie was especially good today.

Obi-Wan took another bite, catching a droplet of juice with the tip of his tongue as he savored the sweet-tart flavor of the Bharbur berries that were only just in season. The diner was unusually quiet for being early evening, only a few people stopping for a quick meal on their way home, and so there was only an occasional curious glance cast his way. With the Temple not far from here, Jedi were a common enough sight but usually they were doing something...well, Jedi-ly, not sitting quietly in a corner eating pie.

It was one lesson he had not been taught in Temple; when it feels like life is taking a turn for the worse, it's generally a good time to find dessert.

Glancing up, he caught Dex's eye from behind the counter and Obi-Wan returned his friendly grin easily, if a little weakly. Dex had been friends with Qui-Gon ever since some incident that had happen years before Obi-Wan had been born, and when he'd become Qui-Gon's Padawan he'd been summarily adopted, which was part of the reason Obi-Wan usually didn't come here. Dex was all too likely to wave his credit chip away with a look of wounded betrayal that Obi-Wan would even think of paying for his meal. It made him feel uncomfortable, even somewhat guilty for no good reason that he could think of, so he usually just ate in the Temple. But when one needed a dessert, nothing could compete with deeply rich, sugary concoctions at Dex's, especially the pie.

He'd only just scraped up the last bite when another thick white plate laden with pie, crust flaky and gleaming with the lightest sprinkling of sugar, was set in front of him by the serving droid. "Here you are, sir."

He accepted it with a silent groan, knowing he was going to regret eating so much later and yet unable to refuse for fear of hurting Dex's feelings. "Thank you," he said politely. The diner had been so quiet that the voice suddenly at his elbow made Obi-Wan jump slightly.

"Make that two, please," said Qui-Gon, and he turned to nod smilingly at Dex before settling into the other side of the booth.

Or at least that was who Obi-Wan assumed had sat across from him, since he'd closed his eyes the moment he'd heard his Master's voice, on some likely fruitless wish that if he didn't look at Qui-Gon then he could pretend he hadn't heard him, and perhaps Qui-Gon would go away and leave him to eat his pie in peace.

"And how is the pie today?"

And perhaps Hutts would become the next great Peacekeepers of the galaxy.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to see Qui-Gon watching him with great interest, resting his chin on his folded hands as if the only thing that could concern him today was the quality of the pie. As if Obi-Wan could ever be so lucky.

"How did you find me?" Obi-Wan asked resignedly, tapping his fork idly on the side of his plate.

"Were you any other Padawan, my Obi-Wan, I would be in the fourth quadrant hunting through bars and earning a headache searching through all the force signatures for yours. Only you would come to a place like this for the self-indulgent rebellion of dessert."

Obi-Wan pointedly took another bite.

"All the other Masters moan to me about their Padawans," Qui-Gon continued blithely. "And say how very lucky I am to have such a well-mannered and obedient apprentice and I am forced to nod and agree with them."

"How very trying for you. Perhaps I'll manage to do something rebellious for you next week, will that help?"

"You are too good to me," Qui-Gon said gravely. A plate with a very healthy, or perhaps not so very healthy, portion of pie slid in front of Qui-Gon and he accepted it with a smile. He cut off the point with the side of his fork, tasting it with an exaggerated eye roll of delight and Obi-Wan could hear Dex chuckle from far away.

They ate in silence for a time, nothing but the scrape of their forks against the plates until Qui-Gon finally sighed, pushing aside his empty plate and leaning back in the seat to study his Padawan. "And what is the trouble of the day?" he asked evenly.

"I only wanted to get out of the Temple for a little while and spend some time alone," Obi-Wan muttered, toying with the last bite on his plate. He didn't really want to eat it, or really, not yet because then he'd have nothing to look at but the table and somehow that was more pathetic then he could bear to be at the moment.

"Indeed." The seat creaked slightly as Qui-Gon shifted and he'd hardly drawn a breath before Obi-Wan interrupted him.

"Master, if this is going to turn into another speech about how you went through the same things when you were young, I'd rather just skip on to the part where we both smile and nod, and move on."

"I was forced to listen to the same speeches when I was a Padawan. One of the delights and privileges of becoming a master is the ability to torment your own apprentice as you were once tormented. Believe me, you aren't special."

Silence.

Qui-Gon's mouth formed a silent, 'Ah'. "So that's the misery of the day."

"Master, please..."

"No, no, I've found you out. It's too late to mislead me now."

"Qui-Gon, I only wanted to spend some time alone!" Far louder than he'd intended and Obi-Wan scrunched down in his seat in a useless effort to hide as the other patrons cast amused and irritated looks in their direction.

Qui-Gon smiled softly and stood. "As you wish, Padawan." Obi-Wan had hardly managed to sigh in relief when he leaned over to whisper into his Padawan's ear. "But when I speak to the other Masters tonight, I'll be forced to tell them yet again how well you do in your studies, and how fine a Jedi you are going to be, if a little sooner than I would like." He squeezed Obi-Wan's shoulder gently and then strode away.

Patrons strolled in and out of the diner, a soft blur just on the outside of Obi-Wan's perception, hardly worth noticing as his hand crept up his sleeve, moving to rest on just the spot Qui-Gon had touched, a poor mimicry of the brief warmth he'd felt.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes again, just to feel it, to remember it, silently grateful that Qui-Gon hadn't guessed the misery of the day, even if his presence had more than doubled it. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and raised a hand to the serving droid.

"Another piece of pie, please."

-finis-