His Master's Hair

by Master Eliz-mar Von

CATEGORY: AU (alternate reality, rather), way pre-slash

SERIES and TIME FRAME: The Oraclyne Series of which "A More Certain Path" was the first; this story follows "Consolation"; Obi-Wan is 14.

RATING: PG

WARNINGS: None needed

SPOILERS: For Jedi Apprentice books, esp. #5, "Defenders of the Dead"

ARCHIVE: to the JA list archive and M_A archive only; also on my new website for this series.

DISCLAIMER: They belong to George Lucas. He has more of my money than I want to think about. I'm not making a dime off this, ever.

NOTE: The alternate universe of the Oraclyne series is explained in more detail in the Appendices for "Path to Oraclyne". The appendices, which explain the four Jedi "Disciplines", are archived at the Oraclyne website, http://jinn.iwarp.com/oraclyne/www/oraclyne.html

SUMMARY: A harmless prank allows Qui-Gon to turn the tables on Obi-Wan's search for his master's sense of humor... and Obi-Wan discovers something else about his master for which he will one day discover he has endless fascination.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, I can't BELIEVE you're going to actually do it!" Bant squealed at her best friend who laughed hysterically at her indignation. Beside them, Garen Muln grinned but looked as bewildered as the Mon Calamarian padawan. Was Obi-Wan nuts?

"I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna do it," Obi-Wan was chortling, nearly dancing in his glee. "It's just too good to pass up!"

"You're going to get punished," Bant said flatly, then gaped as her friend laughed all the more.

"I know!" Obi-Wan spun around in a circle. "And I don't care!"

"OBI!"

"What's he going to do to me, Bant, huh?" Obi-Wan smirked. "He's not going to send me away, not for THAT, a harmless prank..."

"Harmless? Have you ever..." Garen tried to interrupt.

"Oh, so he'll be minorly inconvenienced." Obi-Wan shrugged. "The most he'll do to me is assign me to garden or kitchen duty. Listen, it'll be worth it to see the expression on his face. Anything other than 'Staid, Serene Jedi Master' is worth getting in trouble for."

"Master Jinn is staid?" Bant asked, puzzled. Obi-Wan's master had always been friendly and kind to her.

"Staid, stuffy, solemn to the point of boredom," Obi-Wan listed off, sighing. "I've seen, like, oh, two expressions on his face. Ever."

"You're exaggerating, Obi," Garen got in, rolling his eyes at their friend.

"Nah, not really. Okay, maybe three."

"Someday, Obi," Bant retorted, "you're going to see a side of Master Jinn that you will be sorry to see - what if he gets you back? You know, play a prank on you in return. He's a Master; I'll be he knows more tricks than you've ever heard of!"

"Not a chance," Obi-Wan laughed. "He doesn't have much of a sense of humor. That just won't happen. Anyway, I just have to do this. It'll be great! Say, I better get going; I've just got to pick up my ammunition and get it set up. He'll be back in a half hour. See ya!" Obi-Wan dashed off to the kitchens.

"I hope he knows what he's doing," Bant sighed.

"I hope he knows Master Jinn," Garen returned, shrugging.

In twenty minutes, Obi-Wan had his device all set up. Once his master opened the door... Oh, this is going to be SO good! Then he had a brief, unexpected thought. What if he gets really angry with me? He shrugged. It wasn't as if Master was suddenly going to hate him. And he certainly would never, ever strike his padawan. Master doesn't do that... He sighed, nodding to himself. Maybe he'll actually laugh with me, understand that it was just a joke. Yeah, we'll have a good laugh at this, and then he'll send me off to kitchen duty. It'll be worth it.

His master had been rather solemn of late, it seemed. For too long, actually. A couple months ago Obi-Wan had finished his year's probation after his unfortunate and short termed departure from the Jedi Order on Melida/Daan. He'd easily passed all his monthly evaluations, and now felt nearly as if he'd never left. He thought he and Master Qui-Gon Jinn got along well, and he now felt fairly confident that some little thing like this wasn't going to affect their relationship. Still...

Before Melida/Daan, Master Qui-Gon had been very reserved with his padawan, withholding approval and certainly any warm regard for Obi-Wan. But then he hadn't wanted to take on a padawan after... Xanatos. The shock of that betrayal had still been affecting the Jedi Master, and it was only after Melida/Daan that he began to recover from that enough to warm up to his new padawan so that they could develop the mind-communion necessary between Master and Padawan for Obi-Wan's training needs. Qui-Gon was not reserved, not now, and Obi-Wan felt sure that his master felt affection for him.

But he did seem rather more quiet of late. Obi-Wan thought about his master's closest friends. Though Master Rendovar was teaching Republic history at the Temple these days, his schedule did not seem to coincide with Qui-Gon's much... at least they did not seem to get to spend much time together. And Master Gi was out in the field, rarely coming to Coruscant. They themselves were usually out in the field as well; this was a rare week spent at home. He needs a good laugh, Obi-Wan told himself, relaxing. It'll be fine.

Then he sensed his master nearing through their bond. Can't wait to see his face, Obi-Wan chuckled to himself as he crouched down behind the table in their common room. It wasn't much of a hiding place, but he didn't need to hide.

The door opened... and a suspended pan above the entryway dipped and spilled its thick, gooey green contents all over Master Qui-Gon's head, settling mostly - as planned - in the long mane of dark brown hair. Even before there was a reaction, Obi-Wan started laughing, giggling at the beautiful mess he'd made of his master's hair.

Qui-Gon froze for a moment, then sighed as he assessed the situation. Padawan, falling all over the floor behind the table, laughing his head off. Mess dripping thoroughly into his hair. He sniffed, then sighed again, controlling his distaste. "RizRizi eggs, Padawan? It would have to be rizRizi eggs..." Carefully he slipped off his robe, noting with relief that very little had dripped that far. No, the batch of glue-like eggs was firmly fixed in his hair. And stinking.

"You look..." Obi-Wan nearly had a stitch in his side from laughing so hard. "You look ridiculous!"

"And smell worse, Padawan. Are you having a slow day?" Qui-Gon regarded him calmly. "I didn't leave enough assignments for you?"

Obi-Wan managed to get to his feet again, though he was still grinning. "I finished them early, but..." He sobered for a few seconds. "I'm sorry, I stole those from the kitchen. They were going bad, so I knew they'd be... ah... perfect."

"Indeed," Qui-Gon said dryly. "Is there more I have to look forward to, Padawan, or is that it?"

"Um, that's it," Obi-Wan admitted with a smirk. He took his Master's robe from him and hung it up. "Don't you think it's a little bit funny?"

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows at him. "Funny? From your perspective, Padawan, I suppose so." He gave him a small smile. "Forgive me if I don't share the joke exactly. I am a mess, after all."

"Sorry," Obi-Wan said airily, not sorry at all. "So, which will it be? Kitchen or garden?"

"I beg your pardon?" Qui-Gon looked at him blankly.

"My punishment!" the boy exclaimed. "Am I on kitchen or garden duty for this?"

"Neither." The Jedi Master began to slowly remove his belt and sash, looking away from him.

"Um... neither? No punishment?" Obi-Wan eyed the belt nervously for a moment, but his master was laying it aside. Of course, he has to wash his hair now, so he's taking his tunics off...

"I did not say that, Padawan." Indeed, the Master was removing his outer and inner tunics. Stripped to the waist, he picked up a chair from the table and moved toward the refresher unit in their quarters. "Come, Obi-Wan."

"What?"

His master disappeared into the unit. Bewildered, Obi-Wan followed him in. To his wonder, Qui-Gon was setting up the chair in front of the deep sink... and sat down on it. "Roll up your sleeves, Padawan, unless you want to do laundry as well."

"Huh? What are you doing?" Obi-Wan gaped at his master as if he'd grown three heads.

"Not much of anything, I hope. You, however, are washing my hair."

"I'm WHAT?"

Qui-Gon leaned his palms on his thighs and looked up at his young apprentice, narrowing his eyes at him. "I believe in natural consequences, Padawan. You created the mess, you get to clean it up. Me up, that is. If you argue with me, we shall have two problems. Depositing a mess in your master's hair is fairly minor. Arguing with him is not."

"I...!" Obi-Wan looked in horror at the goopy green egg contents. "I'm not going to touch THAT! It's like GLUE!"

"But you expected me to, Padawan? I'm seeing less humor in this by the moment." Qui-Gon's expression was nevertheless fairly neutral. He wasn't angry. He was...

Obi-Wan had no idea. "I...I'm sorry, Master..."

"I'm sure you are, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said a little more kindly. But his eyes told his apprentice that he was not going to budge on this. "But the longer you wait, the more this will have had a chance to harden. And we are NOT cutting it off."

A flash of horror went through the boy at the thought - cut off his master's beautiful, long hair? "N...no, of course not," he said quickly. "Ah..." He reached for a bottle of hair cleanser. Then he put it back down. "Can I take these off?" He indicated his own tunics, which he was realizing were going to be getting quite wet otherwise.

"Of course."

Obi-Wan shed his tunics, running them back into the common room, then returned to take up the cleanser bottle again. "Ah, um, what do I do first?"

He somehow missed seeing the quirk of a smile at the corner of his master's mouth. "Run the water and adjust the temperature so you don't burn my scalp," Qui-Gon directed him, adjusting in the chair so his head lay back over the basin, the back of his neck resting on the lip of the sink.

The boy ran the water and got it somewhat warm. He made a face.

"Something wrong, Padawan?"

"It stinks!"

"Yes, it does," Qui-Gon agreed, smiling.

"You're laughing at me!" Obi-Wan stared at his master in horror.

"I didn't laugh, Obi-Wan. But I do seem to have turned the tables on you. Don't you think that's a little bit funny?"

Aghast, the boy gaped at him. His master had used his very words! "Ah... er... from your perspective." He smiled sheepishly. "I guess I do deserve to be laughed at, Master. It was a silly prank."

Qui-Gon smiled more easily now, and Obi-Wan felt a flood of relief. "You'd better get started on your... punishment, Padawan."

"Yes, sir," Obi-Wan sighed, and, grimacing, began the horrible task of scraping the green glue from his master's hair. The rizRizi eggs had gelled into a dense, slippery, stinking mass, and the boy gagged a few times while trying to get it out. Good one, Kenobi, he thought to himself as he worked, using nearly the entire contents of the bottle in an attempt to dilute or neutralize the glue. He found the perfect punishment for you, having to get your HANDS in this... should have known. He's not a Jedi Master for nothing...

"Master?" he said with exasperation a few minutes into it.

"Yes, Padawan?" It was Qui-Gon's turn to smirk.

"Can you please close your eyes? I don't want you to WATCH me."

Controlling a chuckle, Qui-Gon closed his eyes and relaxed.

After a few more minutes, once the worst was down the drain, Obi-Wan found himself relaxing as well, finding the task almost... soothing. He thought he even liked washing his master's hair. It was like taking care of him. Oh, he knew that as Qui-Gon's padawan, it was his job to take care of his master, but Qui-Gon didn't... hadn't... let him do... much. Obi-Wan took care of their clothes and packing or unpacking from trips, helped with meal preparation and cleaning up, but really hadn't done anything... personal... for his master. He thought he could like this.

"Master?" he asked again. Though the stickiness was nearly gone, he wanted to do a thorough job, get every last bit out, and the smell, too.

"Yes, Obi-Wan..." His master's voice was almost languid, quiet.

"Can I do this again... sometime? I don't mean the prank, I mean washing your hair. I... like this." He looks younger when he's relaxed, the boy thought, glad he could do something personal for his master after all.

The Jedi Master paused for a moment, then smiled. "I like it, too, Padawan. And you may do it as often as time allows."

Satisfied, Obi-Wan settled into finishing the task. When he had squeezed as much water out of the heavy but clean mass as he could, Qui-Gon sat up and accepted a towel when Obi-Wan hastily handed him one.

Then Qui-Gon looked around. He noted with relief that all the eggs had gone down the drain. Unfortunately there was water everywhere. "I'm going to get this mostly dry, Padawan, before you comb it out. Please clean up the room in the mean time." He stepped into the next compartment of the 'fresher and turned on the hot air jets in the upper quarter of the stall.

Obi-Wan gaped at his back, then the words fully registered. "Before I comb it out?" he murmured, stunned. Hastily he started mopping up water. I comb... I get to comb out... and brush, I hope... Master Qui-Gon's hair... he's going to let me brush his hair...

In five minutes, the refresher room was mostly puddle-free. Qui-Gon came out of the dryer stall and smiled at his padawan, apparently approving, then moved into the common room. His long, only slightly damp hair lay loose about his shoulders and back. "Where do you want me?" He'd shrugged on his inner tunic, and was tying the laces.

"Here, sit here," Obi-Wan directed, setting a chair in front of one end of their sofa. He already had his master's comb and brush from his room. As Qui-Gon sat down on the chair, Obi-Wan perched on the arm of the sofa behind him, right at the correct height for his next task. "Comb, first," he said, raising his hands to start in.

"Ow," Qui-Gon said helpfully after a few seconds. "Gently, Obi-Wan. There are tangles."

"Oh!" Obi-Wan stopped, mortified that he had caused his master pain. "Sorry, I'll be more careful." And he was, taking his time to work out each tangle and snag.

Obi-Wan soon found the task mesmerizing. Calming... relaxing... He sighed deeply.

"Is this all right, Padawan?" Qui-Gon said, alert to the sound but not sure how to interpret it. He knew only too well that his apprentice was at an... interesting... age. This was a familial intimacy that a Temple-raised child wasn't exactly used to. The Master knew there was a certain "talk" that he would have to be having with the boy before long.

"Oh, yes, Master," Obi-Wan sighed again. "I think I will let you wash your own hair... if I can just do this for you in the future, Master? May I?"

Qui-Gon was relieved at the former, but wondering at the latter. "Certainly you may if this is something you're comfortable with, Obi-Wan." He knew teenagers all too well. He wanted to be careful to avoid encounters between them that were too... sensual. And certainly not more personal than this simple act. "May I ask why?"

Obi-Wan's hands stilled - a fall of hair in one hand, the brush in the other now. "I guess it's because... I'm your padawan. And I'm supposed to take care of my master."

"You do, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said gently. "You're a good companion."

The boy smiled, pleased by the compliment. He resumed brushing his master's hair. "So are you. I don't mind spending time with you, Master. And I do like this. It's like... like..." He thought, fishing for words, then he knew. "It's like our bond time." He referred to the quiet time they spent working on their bond together last year. Once a daily occurrence, now it was more like once a month.

"Yes, it is," Qui-Gon replied quietly. "May I ask you something?"

"Sure." Obi-Wan's attention was mostly on brushing the beautiful dark brown mane.

"Why the prank?"

"Oh. I dunno," the boy said lamely. "I just... wanted to, that's all."

Teenagers, the Jedi Master thought, amused as well as exasperated. "There must be some reason. I haven't known you to be given to... practical jokes, Padawan."

And again the hands stilled on the long hair.

Qui-Gon continued, his voice calm and gentle. "I know I've been somewhat distant of late. For that I am sorry."

Obi-Wan didn't say anything. Didn't know what to say, what to think. He looked down at the silken hair in his hands. "Is... is anything wrong, Master?" he said finally in a small voice.

The Master considered what to tell his young apprentice. Finally he murmured, "If you go in my room, you will find another tie for my hair..."

"I know where it is," Obi-Wan said softly, releasing the fall of hair in his hands as he went to get the tie for his master.

He doesn't miss much, Qui-Gon thought ruefully. When Obi-Wan came back and started in to brush his hair back preparatory to fastening the forward layer with the tie, he almost chuckled. He's seen me do that so many times...

As if sensing his master's thought, Obi-Wan added, "I've watched you do this a lot. I hope I do it right." Finished with the brushing, he drew the tie around the section he'd separated out, and carefully wrapped the tie around and then tied it off neatly.

"I'm sure it's good," Qui-Gon murmured. When the boy was done, he reached back to feel the tie, and smiled. "Very good, Padawan. I'm very lucky to have such an observant apprentice."

"You're welcome, Master," Obi-Wan said gravely... too serious.

Qui-Gon replaced his chair at the table, then plopped down on the other end of the sofa. "All right, Padawan, let's talk..." He patted the other cushion and Obi-Wan slid off the arm onto the sofa, turning to face him. But as yet, Obi-Wan did not look at his master.

"Obi-Wan?"

The prank was a very bad idea, the boy was thinking. He glanced up at his master.

"There is nothing wrong, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, his lips barely curved in a small smile. "But I have been preoccupied." He took a deep breath, sobering. "I'll try to explain, Padawan."

Obi-Wan nodded. Is this like... like when I found him crying? Is there something seriously wrong with my master? Oh, Force, I hope not...

Qui-Gon looked at the boy earnestly. "Sometimes, Obi-Wan, I get so caught up in our missions and schedules and meetings and the like that I draw too much into myself..." He looked away, sighing. "A bad habit I have, I know. And it was the cause of what kept us from achieving the mind-communion we needed to... when you became my padawan." The first time... he hadn't needed to say it. "Not that I would have reverted to... that with you." He looked back at the boy, his eyes intent on him. "Never that again. But I daresay you've needed more attention from me, Padawan."

"I... I'm sorry about the prank, sir." Obi-Wan couldn't look at that intent gaze. He inspected his hands.

"And a good one it was, too, Padawan," Qui-Gon sighed, smiling, then reached over and ruffled the boy's hair.

Surprised, Obi-Wan looked up and smiled. "So it was funny?"

"It was funny."

The boy thought of something else. "Master, I know you haven't been able to spend much time with your... friends."

"Friends?" Qui-Gon looked bewildered for a moment.

Obi-Wan swallowed hard. "Master Rendovar. And, uh, Master Gi."

"Ah." Qui-Gon sighed, nodding. My lovers - does he know what they are to me? How do I talk to him about that... and when? "No, I haven't. We've been busy, I suppose."

Obi-Wan looked down at his hands again suddenly. "I was hoping..."

"Yes?"

Oh, this is silly... The boy squirmed, then said it. "I was hoping to make you laugh. You, ah, never laugh, Master."

Qui-Gon smiled, then actually chuckled. Obi-Wan just gaped at him. "No, Obi-Wan, I suppose you don't get to see me laugh much. I know that I tend to project a certain... image... but of course there's more to me than that."

"Does that mean I might get to find that out?" Obi-Wan asked, his face lighting up.

The Jedi Master realized something in that moment. He never gets to see me as anything other than 'Master'... anything other than in my role as his teacher. Perhaps I have been too rigid - again - in that role... "Obi-Wan, you know what I think?"

"What?" The boy's eyes got wide.

"You and I need time for us. Obi-Wan... and Qui-Gon." He smiled again, reaching to lay a hand on the boy's shoulder. "We need to do things together other than attend to your training, perhaps."

Obi-Wan wasn't sure where this was going. "Like... what?"

Qui-Gon adjusted his position on the sofa into something un-Masterly, a genuine sprawl of his long body and limbs. "Oh, let's see... something unrelated to classes, meditation, workouts... gardening?"

"Gardening?" Obi-Wan's eyes widened even more, though whether he was appalled or merely disgusted, it wasn't clear.

Qui-Gon chuckled at his reaction. "I like to garden, it's very relaxing."

"Relaxing?" Obi-Wan thought for a moment that his master had lost his mind.

To his wonder, his "staid, serene" master winked at him! "You've never been gardening with me, Padawan. I assure you, it doesn't have to be a chore. Or perhaps cooking?"

Obi-Wan's expression was enough to make the Jedi Master actually laugh out loud. And then Obi-Wan just looked astonished. "Oh, so you can laugh, Master? But only at me?"

"Oh, no, of course not... I'm sorry, it's just that you looked so horrified!" Qui-Gon was still chuckling.

The boy rolled his eyes at him. "Let me guess - I've never been cooking with you before, so... it's like this whole new experience, right?"

"Exactly," Qui-Gon replied, with something way too close to a smirk on his face.

"I don't know that I like where this is going, sir," Obi-Wan pouted.

"You know, we do make quite the pair sometimes. You have your serious side, too, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon countered, pointing at him.

"Ah..." The boy had no idea what to say to that. "I do?"

Qui-Gon nodded, studying the boy. "You do when you're uncertain about where you stand with me... or about whether you've displeased me or not. And that concerns me."

Obi-Wan was so stunned that his master could see through him so clearly that he said anything, just to respond. "I... I want to be a good padawan to you, Master. And... and I'll never turn, I promise."

"Of course you are and of course you won't, Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon returned hastily, feeling a surge of remorse. I promised to keep him close... and even after his year of probation, we're still not there yet... "Come here, Padawan..." He straightened and held an arm out to him.

A moment later, he nearly had the breath knocked out of him as his apprentice's head connected rather solidly with his chest. Sighing with relief, Qui-Gon pulled the slim body more firmly against him, holding the youth close. "My Obi-Wan," he murmured as the boy pressed his face into his tunics, "you are the best padawan I could ever imagine having... and you are a very important part of my life, did you know that?"

The boy shook his head, making a noise against him.

"Well, you are... the most important person in my life now, Obi-Wan Kenobi. My padawan. Firmly my padawan!" Qui-Gon spoke gently, lovingly, patting the boy's back soothingly. "And you are a very good padawan. You cannot displease me, my Obi-Wan. Never. Sometimes I may be disappointed in your progress or by things you do, but that doesn't affect how I feel about you. Never forget that... but I will make sure you remember, Padawan."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan muttered, his voice muffled.

"And if you ever wonder again, I want you to come and put your head right here... and I will tell you what you mean to me again," the Master continued, slipping his hand up to press against the boy's head. "Will you do that?"

Obi-Wan nodded, calming. He does care for me, he was thinking, his heart singing with relief and joy. Then he dared to whisper, "Master... bond time?"

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, smiling. I think we've already started, don't you? he whispered into his apprentice's mind.

Oh, Master... Obi-Wan replied in the same way, snuggling closer, his arm slipping around Qui-Gon's waist. Thank you, Master.

The Jedi Master hugged his padawan firmly, feeling a renewed warmth surge through their bond. And thank you, Padawan. I am glad you are my padawan. I am glad neither of us is alone anymore.

Me, too, Obi-Wan replied, gladly letting the other's warmth sink into his mind. He found himself centering on his master, listening to his heartbeat as well as concentrating on the solidity of his presence, the warmth of his body. Any insecurity he'd been feeling had melted away. I am so glad you are my Master.

Then there was no more said between them for a while. It was like meditating, and they were both close to trance, in fact, though they retained ion for him. He nodded, accepting. "Of course, Master."

Qui-Gon slipped his fingers around Obi-Wan's. "I think it's time I tell you about my relationship with Masters Gi and Rendovar."

The boy flushed, his eyes dropping. "Oh. I know all about that, Master, it's okay."

"No, I don't think you do," Qui-Gon persisted gently. "This is not something to hide from you nor something to be whispered about with your friends... or to be embarrassed about, for that matter. You're old enough to understand this, I think. Raen Gi and Jil-Ba Rendovar are my lovers, Obi-Wan. We're not together much, not any more. But... well, there it is."

Obi-Wan knew this, had figured it out, but had not given it much thought - on purpose - until now. Until his master had stated it. "Oh," he murmured, uncomfortable. "Are... are you going to marry them? Take life vows?" He blurted it out, then stared at his master in horror for being so blunt. It was a fear he'd had... that Qui-Gon's heart would be so divided that he would not have much caring to spare for his padawan.

The words stunned the Jedi Master. Is that what he fears?? "No," he sighed, though this was the first time he'd actually admitted it aloud. He'd had hopes... Rae and Jil had been very close to him after Xanatos's betrayal... and if it hadn't been too soon, he might have thought of asking them to take vows with him. But then along had come Obi-Wan. And Rae had taken a padawan just recently. "Obi-Wan, no, I will not make those vows with them."

"Why not? You love them..." Again, Obi-Wan blurted out the words. He felt funny inside, talking about this, but for some reason, he wanted to understand this.

Qui-Gon smiled briefly, raising a finger to touch the boy's cheek tenderly. "It's not that simple, Obi-Wan. There are many kinds of love. I would only take life vows with someone I was in love with. 'In love'... not merely love. I do love Rae and Jil in a way, and certainly I enjoy their company... and we do enjoy physical pleasure together. But they have their own lives as Master Diplomats, Obi-Wan. Rae also has a padawan, too. Those of us who take on the responsibility of a padawan must accept that we do not have the fullness of love in our hearts available to give to another adult in a life vow."

Obi-Wan swallowed with difficulty. In one way it awed him that his master spoke of such adult matters with him, but it also daunted him to think of such things. "There are Masters who have taken life vows with other Jedi," he pointed out in a small voice.

"Yes," his master sighed, "And they either share a padawan - train one together - or do not take padawans. There are no fast rules for this, and the Code does not specify. For myself... it is this way. I have a padawan learner. I cannot give my heart fully to anyone else, therefore."

"Oh, Master..." Obi-Wan was still a little bewildered. "I never meant... I mean, if you really wanted to, I couldn't keep you from..."

His master's reaction was as much mental as physical. Qui-Gon's eyes widened in shock at the boy's suggestion, he immediately sent a wave of loving concern for his padawan's fears into their bond... and pulled him abruptly back into his arms. "No, Obi-Wan! You are NOT keeping me from anything! Don't..." He paused to calm himself. "Do not think for a minute that I ever want to be with them when I'm with you. You're my padawan. We made vows together as Master and Padawan, Obi-Wan. Please know I take those vows as as seriously as you do."

Obi-Wan clung to his master, burrowing his face into his master's neck as he sat where Qui-Gon had pulled him up into his lap. Love you, Master, was all he could say.

Qui-Gon sighed, thinking that teenagers when reverted to "little boy mode" could be so endearing - too bad they didn't get this way very often - and whispered back, Love you, too, my Obi-Wan. He's growing like a weed, this one... getting heavy!

The boy straightened suddenly, nearly pulling out of his master's arms as he sat up to look at him. "Now I have to concoct a story to tell my friends," he declared, wrinkling his nose.

"Why is that, my Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked, smiling at him fondly.

"Well, they have to think that you punished me horribly," Obi-Wan explained with a grin. "That way I'll get lots of sympathy from them."

"You want your friends thinking that I would punish you horribly for playing a prank on me?" Qui-Gon asked, mystified.

The boy's face fell. "Oh, no, Master, I didn't mean... I guess... er..." He squirmed until his master let him back down onto the sofa. "I guess I've told them things about you that aren't true." He looked down at his hands, embarrassed. "Everyone always talks about their masters like, ah..."

Qui-Gon slipped his arm around the boy, pulling him back against him slightly. "Let me guess. We're slavedrivers, mean, unforgiving, harsh, and we couldn't possibly understand what it's like to be fourteen."

"Ah... something like that." Obi-Wan wanted to slink away. He thought of what he'd called his master to his friends - "staid, serene... boring..." Now he wanted to take all of it back. The only one that applied - "serene" - was a fine compliment to a Jedi. And something Obi-Wan wished for himself very much. He even liked to think that he managed meditation fairly well for his age, achieving a small measure of his master's wondrous, vast serenity.

"I do work you hard," Qui-Gon admitted quietly.

Obi-Wan was proud of that. He knew that his master's high expectations meant that Qui-Gon saw a great deal of potential in him. "I need it," the boy admitted honestly. "I mean, I know I learn things easily..."

"You're a sponge, Padawan," Qui-Gon broke in with a smile. "And you're right. You absorb knowledge at a high rate. Though you also must process it, learn to think about what you absorb."

The boy sighed, but happily. "Which is why all the essays you make me write... and I don't mind that, either. I love learning. And then the harder part - the arena. I'm afraid I don't excel there quite as well..."

Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes at him. "Nonsense. You are ahead of your age group in every way, which is as it should be. Let me remind you - you're Bajrheni. Your people mature very rapidly. A boy your age is considered an adult on your home world."

Obi-Wan lifted his chin and turned to look up at his master. "I have not been raised Bajrheni, Master, which I do not mind. I know Human Jedi children are brought up differently. I will not be an adult in this world for four more years." He looked at his master curiously, wondering at the scrutiny of the man's deep blue eyes. "Do you believe this has hurt me?"

He has his mature moments, like this one, Qui-Gon was noting with satisfaction. "Obi-Wan, your Force-sensitivity has set you apart from your people... as mine did. And though we both have come from Human populations with a high degree of telepathic potential, we are both higher telepaths yet."

The boy smiled. "That's why we belong together now. I'm like you."

Qui-Gon could not help but feel a happy twinge of love for his padawan. "Yes. Master Yoda, in his infinite wisdom, had seen fit to toss us together for that reason, and I'm happy to say that I agree with him wholeheartedly now. As you get older, we will work on much more of your potential. And very soon, we will need to work on specific shielding. Your general shielding is very good."

Obi-Wan grinned. "But I'm still a mess in the arena, Master."

The Jedi Master gaped at him, frowning. "You're GROWING, Padawan. We've talked about this..." Then he sighed deeply for it was no use reminding him that the subject came up once a week. "Your balance problems are entirely the fault of your physical changes. It will pass soon. I do not hold you at fault for that."

"Yes, Master," the boy replied, thinking that it had seemed over the past year that his progress in his Jedi physical abilities had gone backwards instead of forwards. "Which reminds me, it's that time..." He smiled ruefully, regretting the end of their chat. It had been... informative.

Qui-Gon returned the smile, touching a finger to the boy's cheek in affection. "That it is, Padawan. But I want you to know something, Obi-Wan... when it comes to talks together like this one - which I enjoyed very much - the schedule comes second. Unless we have to leave on a mission, of course. But otherwise - anytime you need to tell me, talk to me about something... do not think of the schedule."

"Yes, Master." Impulsively, Obi-Wan hugged his teacher about the neck, surprising him with a kiss roughly in the vicinity of Qui-Gon's ear, then was bounding away for his room, purportedly to change into his practice tunic.

The Master sat for a moment, senses spinning. Oh, my Obi-Wan... you will not be a child much longer... He closed his eyes, setting his powerful mind to work for a few minutes on reading his padawan's physiology and emotions. It was a skill that truthfully only a few Master Healers possessed. Qui-Gon Jinn had discovered long ago that keeping some of his higher telepathic talents to himself had been very useful as a Diplomat.

Then he saw... and sighed, accepting. Weeks, no more, before any behavioral changes in his padawan would be evident, due to the hormonal invasion which had already begun. He was late for his age and very late for his species, but that only meant that his progress and assimilation into his adult self would go fairly rapidly. All the more reason to establish this more personal communication with Obi-Wan now.

Obi-Wan bounded back out of his room. "Master, you're not ready!"

"No, I do not appear to be," Qui-Gon replied. "I'll just be a minute," he said, as he rose and went into his room. It was less than a minute when he reappeared in a practice tunic and belt, lightsaber in hand. He affixed his 'saber to the belt. "After you, Padawan."

That evening, in the common dining room for Padawans and Trainees, Obi-Wan's friends rushed him, eager for a report. "You did it, didn't you?" Bant asked, breathless.

Obi-Wan did not reply yet, shifting position uncomfortably in his chair. His master had kept him in the arena all afternoon, and he was sore and exhausted. Moreover, he had a full slate of studies to attend to this evening. On the one hand, he was grateful... on the other hand, he was too tired to care. "Um..." he said, replying to the query at last.

"He didn't beat you, did he, Obi?" Garen asked, his eyes wide. He'd noticed how uncomfortable Obi-Wan seemed.

"Never," Obi-Wan retorted, coming back to life suddenly. "My master would never do that. I've just been in the arena all afternoon. Practice, then sparring. He beat me soundly, of course, but not like you're suggesting. Never."

"Sorry," Garen said hastily, abashed. "But you did do it..."

"Yeah," Obi-Wan admitted, smiling finally. "I did. It was great."

Bant flounced in her chair, unhappy. She wanted details. "And?? What was his reaction? What was your punishment? Just practice?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "Oh, he was calm. Then he made me wash his hair."

"WHAT?" Bant laughed in disbelief. "No!"

"Oh, yes," Obi-Wan chuckled. "It was awful. The rizRizi eggs were stinking, slimy..."

"Obi, we're trying to eat here..." someone down the table complained.

"But I managed to get it all out finally," Obi-Wan finished. "That was my punishment."

Bant couldn't believe what she was hearing. "That's it?"

"Oh, yeah, then we talked. That was rather good, however." He decided to leave out the part about brushing his master's hair. That's just between Master and me, he thought, happy.

"Talking? With your master?"

"Sure, why not? Master Qui-Gon's not that bad to talk to."

Garen made a face at him. "I thought you said he was boring!"

"And staid," Bant added.

Obi-Wan shrugged, poking at his food. "Nah." Then, because it seemed like the thing to do, he added, "He is a slavedriver, though."

"Oh, well, then..."

Just then Obi-Wan happened to look up. His master, going to dinner with Jil-Ba Rendovar, looked into the dining hall for his padawan. When their eyes met, Qui-Gon smiled, then continued on with his friend.

Obi-Wan smiled, too, happy to be padawan to such a man.

The End