Part 3

"Age is no excuse." The little man's voice was harsh. "Let him get away with this now, and suffer later on you both will. Actions have consequences, Padawan. Never too young to learn that lesson he is."

Qui-Gon nodded in agreement.

"Warning you have given him?"

"Yes, more than once."

"Once is enough. If he sees you weak, advantage he will take. T'Lara is an old friend, see her you should. Be ruled by the child you should not. Accept her for what she is, he must."

"Well, T'Lara and I are dining together tonight, perhaps that will be a good time to see if he has learnt his lesson."

"No 'perhaps'…settle this now, Padawan." He tugged at the Jedi's long hair affectionately. "But not with anger - only resentment will come from the child if anger is used. Be fair, but firm. Understand me, you do?"

"Yes, Master, I understand."

"Then why are you still here? Busy I am."

Qui-Gon smiled, stood up and headed for the door.

"Thank you, Master."

Yoda 'humphed' and hobbled back to his stubborn plants.

*_*_*

Qui-Gon spoke to T'Lara first, asking if she minded Obi-Wan joining them for dinner.

"Of course I don't mind, Qui. The more he sees us together, the more chance he has of getting used to the idea. And we'll have plenty of time together after he's gone to bed." She winked and closed the comm connection.

Obi-Wan was less than enthusiastic, but Qui-Gon had anticipated that.

"We can prepare the meal together. And I think I can manage to acquire some Qualla frost." It was bribery, he knew, but it might just work.

The child agreed reluctantly, and Master Aronna was advised of their plans.

"Should be an interesting evening." she said, cryptically. "Have fun."

*_*_*

After buying the ingredients they needed at the market outside the Temple, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan returned to the Jedi's quarters to prepare the meal.

Qui-Gon was a master of many things, but cooking wasn't one of them. He had chosen a fairly basic menu - soup, followed by a rice and vegetable dish, both he remembered as T'Lara's favourites.

Obi-Wan seemed to have lost some of his earlier reluctance, and stood contentedly on a chair next to the Jedi at the small preparation bench. He had lowered his shield and was chattering in his usual way about some of his friends in the crèche, as Qui-Gon set the ingredients in front of them.

"…and Master Aronna said 'Do that again, Belari, and I will leave you up there." The child laughed.

"And has he done it again?"

"No...at least not when Master Aronna is around."

"Wise move. Now, let me see if I remember how to make this soup."

The Jedi put some water on to boil on the small stove and shared the assembled herbs and spices between the two of them at the bench.

"Cut them up as small as possible, little one. And be careful - I don't want fingers in the soup."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and set to chopping up his share of the herbs.

"What's this soup called, Quigee?"

"I was afraid you'd ask me that." The Jedi frowned. "Something like, m'lessiff…no m'lassiff? Well, something like that. You can ask Master T'Lara when she arrives - it is a dish from her homeworld."

Obi-Wan kept on with his chopping, determined to ask her no such thing.

"Did you know Master T'Lara comes from a desert world, little one?"

The child shrugged - he wasn't in the least bit interested. All that mattered was that he was with Quigee and things were OK between them.

Qui-Gon picked up on the child's thoughts, but continued speaking as if he hadn't noticed.

"When she came to the Temple as a young Initiate, she was fascinated by water. On her homeworld, water is scarce and considered a luxury. For many months after she arrived here, she would spend all her spare time in the Garden of a Thousand Fountains."

Obi-Wan pushed his pile of chopped herbs over to the Jedi and looked up at him.

"What can I do next?"

/Start paying attention?/

"Wash the vegetables so there is no soil on them."

The child put all the vegetables in the sink and turned the tap on, water splashing over him and on to the floor.

"Don't worry about it now - there will doubtless be more mess to tidy up before we are done."

The child smiled and turned the water pressure down. The Jedi continued, determined to spark the child's interest in some way.

"I taught T'Lara to swim when we were padawans together. At first, the size of the pool frightened her - she had never seen so much water before in her life - but after a while she overcame her fears and turned out to be a proficient swimmer."

The child scrubbed each individual vegetable studiously.

/And then she sprouted horns and flew away./

The Jedi added his herbs to the pot and stirred the mixture. He reached past the boy for some seasoning, and sprinkled a small amount into the pot.

"In a way, it was because of swimming that she became a Healer."

Obi-Wan turned the tap off and dried the vegetables.

"One day, whilst she was swimming in the pool, another Initiate slipped and fell. He banged his head on the side of the pool and fell into the water. T'Lara…"

"Was there a lot of blood?"

"What? Blood? I suppose so."

"Wow."

/That he finds interesting./

Doggedly, Qui-Gon continued.

"T'Lara pulled the unconscious boy from the water and revived him. She had never been taught revival techniques, it just came to her naturally - through the Force. It was then she decided to become a Healer."

"Did the boy have a big bump on his head?"

/About as big as the one I'm going to get from banging my head against the wall./

"You can ask Master T'Lara when she arrives. Now, let's see if I can remember how to cook vegetables."

Amazingly, the meal seemed to have survived Qui-Gon's lack of culinary talent, and strange but delightful smells filled the room.

"Well, that's all done. Thank you for your help, imp. I think we have managed to do a good job." He looked around the small kitchen. "And also managed to make a surprising amount of mess."

Obi-Wan giggled and threw a handful of vegetable scrapings at the Jedi, which landed on the man's head. A few of the more tenacious ones clung to his hair. The child held his stomach in a spasm of laughter.

"Oooh look - Quigee soup!"

A minor food fight ensued, and ended with the man and the boy sitting on the floor, surrounded by even more mess. Obi-Wan's eyes twinkled devilishly, and he scooped up a handful of scrapings, intending to continue the fun, but Qui-Gon held up his hand to stop him.

"Look at the time. Master T'Lara will be here soon. We have to clean up and then change - we look like a pair of gallery slaves."

Obi-Wan's pout at the cessation of the fun did not go unnoticed by the Jedi.

"I'll start in here, little one. You go and wash up and change your clothes."

"Why? These are OK." He brushed food off himself and ignored the stains.

Qui-Gon arched an eyebrow at him. "Do I really need to answer that question? Off you go - we have about 15 minutes to spare."

The child stomped out of the room and into the bathroom facilities.

/Child, you are like the seasons - ever changing./

As he was changing his clothes, Qui-Gon noticed Obi-Wan standing at the door way to his bedroom, a little hand rubbing his stomach.

"I feel sick, Quigee."

/How convenient./

The Jedi walked over and laid a hand on the child's forehead.

"There is no sign of a temperature." He laid a hand gently on the child's stomach. "Nothing appears wrong here either."

"Can I go back to the crèche?"

Qui-Gon walked over to the bed, sat down and motioned the child over to him.

"Why do you want to leave, little one?"

Obi-Wan drew slow circles on one of Qui-Gon's knees.

"Just do is all." he pouted.

"Not a very good reason, is it?" He drew the child on to his lap. "Little one, it would please me greatly if you and Master T'Lara could become friends. I want her to see what I see - an amazing child that I am immensely proud of, a child that I love more than life itself."

He sent an image of his love and pride through the link to emphasise his words. The boy squirmed.

"I know that I cannot force you to be friends, imp, but there is one thing I do expect of you." He cupped the boy's chin in his hand, forcing him to look him in the face. "I expect you to be on your best behaviour tonight. I will not tolerate any more of your rudeness towards T'Lara. You will show her the respect she deserves, do you understand?"

Obi-Wan nodded, pulling his face away from the man's grasp. He scooted down off his knee and walked away.

"OK." he agreed begrudgingly.

"Mark me now, child. You would be wise not to test me on this."

*_*_*

Reluctantly, Obi-Wan helped Qui-Gon set the table. Just as they finished, the door chime rang out.

"Ah, punctual as ever."

T'Lara, looking as stunning as usual, entered the room and immediately picked up on the aromas coming from the kitchen.

"Don't tell me…m'sillaff soup? Qui, you remembered. How sweet."

"I had some help. Obi-Wan?"

The child was standing by the table, taking an inordinate interest in the cutlery.

"Hello, young one. How are you?"

"Hello Master."

"Did you help make the soup?"

A brief nod.

T'Lara laughed. "If I remember correctly, Qui-Gon would need all the help he can get. He's the only person I know who can burn water."

The Jedi looked offended.

"Here, I brought a bottle of Melian wine." She waved her hand to stave off Qui-Gon's protest. "It was a gift, and I can think of no better company to share it with."

Qui-Gon smiled and took the very expensive and rare wine from her, placing it on the table.

"Well, shall we eat? Slaving away in a kitchen does tend to make one hungry. Child? Would you like to help me serve the first course?"

Silently, Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon into the kitchen and carried out three soup bowls, putting one at each place. Qui-Gon followed with the pot of soup, setting it in the middle of the table.

"Forgive my lack of fine tableware, but I have little need of such luxuries."

"Believe me, Qui, I have eaten from worse things than a pot in my time." She smiled and reached over to pat his arm.

Obi-Wan scraped his chair noisily into place, earning him a quick look from the Jedi.

"Did you now that m'sillaff is served on special occasions on my homeworld, little one? It is called the food of welcome. In the olden days, neighbouring tribes would serve it at gatherings to promote peace."

The child remained silent, swirling his soup around with his spoon. He took a small mouthful and pulled a face.

"Eww."

T'Lara laughed, Qui-Gon counted to ten in his mind.

"It can be bitter at first. Here, try adding some of this." She handed him a small dish of seasoning. "Just add a little bit, it will take away some of the bitterness."

Obi-Wan took the proffered bowl and heaped a large amount into his soup.

//I am warning you, child.//

T'Lara fussed over the boy, swapping bowls with him. "I am used to the seasoning." She added a small amount to his soup. "Try it now."

Qui-Gon gave her a grateful smile, which she returned. The child ate some of the soup, a look of barely disguised distaste creasing his face. He pushed his bowl away from him and sat back in his chair.

The adults ignored him, eating their soup and chatting. T'Lara's charges had thoroughly enjoyed their day exploring the Temple, and she related some of their stories.

"Meera especially will fit in here. She is strong with the Force. It will greatly improve her healing skills learning at the Temple."

Qui-Gon nodded and smiled, giving T'Lara as much of his attention as possible. But he was also occupied with the attitude emanating quite strongly from the child. Rubbing his temple, the Jedi could feel the beginnings of a headache.

Recruiting the boy's reluctant help, Qui-Gon cleared away the soup bowls and took them into the kitchen.

"Can I go back to the crèche now? I'm not hungry any more." The child's plea was loud enough to be heard in the next room.

The Jedi turned on him quickly, making the child take a step back.

"No." he hissed through gritted teeth. "You will finish your meal and afford our guest the respect she deserves. This is my final warning, child. You are skating on thin ice, very thin ice."

Back at the table, T'Lara pretended she had not heard the child's request to leave, and continued chatting, including the boy as much as possible in the conversation. Qui-Gon was eternally grateful for her efforts.

"M'sillaff and gasenga…I feel thoroughly spoiled." She was genuinely touched that Qui-Gon had remembered her favourite foods.

Obi-Wan pushed the food around on his plate, his mouth set in a hard line.

//Eat.//

The command through the link startled him a little, and he looked up at the Jedi. Steel blue eyes met equally determined green eyes in a silent battle of wills.

T'Lara was aware of the tension, and tried yet again to diffuse the situation.

"Little one, could I please have a glass of juice?" She held out her glass and gave him her warmest smile.

The carafe of juice sat on the table between him and the Healer. He looked at it for a split second, then reached out quickly, knocking it over, the contents spilling on to T'Lara's lap.

T'Lara gasped as the cold liquid seeped through her gown. She pushed back her chair and dabbed at it with her napkin.

"Child, apologise immediately."

The boy remained silent, fighting back a smirk.

Qui-Gon took a deep breath, pushed his anger away, and centred himself , willing calm into his frazzled mind.

"So be it."

The next thing Obi-Wan knew, he was picked up by the scruff of the neck and tucked unceremoniously under Qui-Gon's arm. As the Jedi strode into the bedroom, realisation dawned in the child's mind and he struggled against the strong hold.

"No…Quigee, no. Didn't mean it. No…don't."

"You were warned child - repeatedly. It is too late now for regret."

Qui-Gon sat on the edge of the bed and placed the child across his knee.

"I'm sorry….no."

The child struggled to get free, but the large hand centred on his back held him in place.

Lifting the boy's tunic, Qui-Gon raised his other hand and brought it down quickly on the boy's behind.

"OW! No…please."

As the Jedi's hand made contact with his bottom the second time, Obi-Wan started to cry.

"Quigee...no…" he pleaded through his tears.

Qui-Gon steeled his heart against the boy's cries and landed four more swats, by which stage the child was sobbing loudly.

The punishment over, he stood the boy up in front of him, holding onto to his shoulders. Before the Jedi could say anything, Obi-Wan pulled away from him.

"I hate you." He yelled through his tears. "Hate you. And her. Hate you." He ran sobbing from the room.

Qui-Gon raced after him.

"Child…" he tried to grab hold of the boy, but Obi-Wan fought his touch, lashing out with his fists against the man's legs.

"I hate you. You don't love me. You love her." The child's body shook with heart wrenching sobs.

The Jedi knelt down and wrapped his arms around the sobbing child.

"Obi-Wan." His voice was hoarse. He looked up at T'Lara, raw pain etched on his face.

The Healer blinked back tears, gently touched his shoulder and quickly left.

The child continued his assault on the man's chest, his little fists pounding home his anger and pain.

Qui-Gon withstood the assault, trying to reach out to the child through the link, but he encountered a strong barrier.

"Obi-Wan, do not shield from me, not now." He was almost begging.

The pounding lessened, and he was able to draw the sobbing child close to him.

"You hate me." The child's words were punctuated with catching breaths.

The Jedi lifted the boy up and carried him over to the couch. He sat down and cradled the boy against his chest.

Obi-Wan made a feeble attempt to get away, but Qui-Gon's hold was too strong. His little head fell against the man, his body shaking as he sobbed.

"Oh child, I do not hate you. Open your mind to me and you will know."

Slowly the shield dropped and Qui-Gon allowed the child open access to his mind, his thoughts, his heart.

Overwhelmed by the unconditional love he felt and saw, the boy's tears flowed anew.

"I sorry Quigee." he cried.

Qui-Gon stroked the boy's hair, sending calming thoughts through the link.

"I know, little one, I know."

Gradually the crying stopped, replaced by catching breaths as the child calmed down. Continuing to soothe the child through word and touch, Qui-Gon shifted position so that his legs stretched out on the couch. He resettled the boy against him.

"Don't hate you, Quigee. Don't." The small voice cracked. "Love you."

Qui-Gon wondered briefly if his heart would break.

"And I love you, my imp."

//I'm sorry. Shouldn't have done it. Sorry.//

The Jedi nestled his chin against the child's soft hair.

//I know.//

Comforted by the reassurance and love he could feel in his mind, Obi-Wan leant against the man's chest and looked at him with red rimmed eyes. His little face was stained with tears.

"Won't ever be bad again…ever." he said, solemnly.

Qui-Gon gently brushed away the tears and allowed himself a small smile.

"Could I have that in writing, imp?"

Obi-Wan ducked his head shyly.

"I'll try." he promised.

The Jedi recalled Master Yoda's constant liturgy: 'There is no try, only do.' Right at that moment, Qui-Gon was more than satisfied with 'try'.

"My bottom hurts."

"I believe that is the intended result of a spanking."

The boy blushed.

"It will serve as a temporary reminder only. It will go soon. Learn from it, you must."

Obi-Wan giggled at Qui-Gon's bad attempt at mimicking Master Yoda.

"Tell him, I will."

"Spank you again, I can."

They both laughed and Qui-Gon planted a soft kiss on the boy's head.

"Love you, I do."

He was rewarded with a hug from his beloved imp, accompanied by a surge of love through the link.

The Jedi settled back, allowing the child to snuggle even closer. He stroked the soft hair, and sent a suggestion of sleep through the link. Obi-Wan fought it for a while, but eventually gave in and drifted off, safely wrapped in Qui-Gon's embrace.

As the child slept, Qui-Gon allowed himself to slip into a light meditative trance.

*_*_*

Qui-Gon was immediately aware when he felt the child move. He had no idea how long they'd lain there, but he imagined it to be nearly an hour or so. Some instinct told him to remain still - not as easy task as Obi-Wan managed to knee him in a rather delicate area as he scooted down.

With one eye opened just a slit, Qui-Gon watched as the child went over to the table and began to tidy up. Plates of unfinished food were taken into the kitchen one by one, Obi-Wan's tongue poking out of the side of his mouth in concentration. Then the spilt juice was wiped up, the carafe and glasses taken away and replaced with fresh ones. Qui-Gon kept up his pretence of sleep, even though the child was creeping around with about as much stealth as a tap dancing Bantha. One chair was pulled away from the table and the other two arranged so as to be facing each other. Numerous possibilities about what the child was actually doing danced around Qui-Gon's head, but he kept his silence.

When all had been tidied up, Obi-Wan gave the table a quick nod of approval. He snuck over to Qui-Gon - who quickly closed his eye - and rested his little head gently on the man's chest. The Jedi projected the image of sleep, and the child walked away, satisfied.

Qui-Gon felt a momentary pang of apprehension as the child headed for the door, but a quick check through the link gave him some reassurance. The child was calm, and there was an intent determination in his mind.

As the door closed behind Obi-Wan, the Jedi sat up and concentrated on the child's Force signature - concerned and not a little curious as to where he was going.

Of all the visitors T'Lara would have expected at her door, Obi-Wan Kenobi was not one of them.

"Come in, child."

Obi-Wan entered the Healer's quarters and stood, staring at his feet. His resolve had weakened as soon as the door opened.

"What is it, little one?" T'Lara coaxed gently.

Brilliant green eyes met hers.

"I came to say…I'm sorry." His voice was soft and full of contrition.

T'Lara looked behind him, not expecting him to be alone.

"Where's…."

Obi-Wan put a finger to his lips. "He's asleep." he whispered.

The fact that her quarters were two floors below Qui-Gon's had obviously not occurred to the boy.

"So he doesn't know you're here?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No. But I wanted to say sorry…it wasn't…nice…what I did." He blushed and went back to staring at his feet.

T'Lara knelt down in front of him and cupped his chin in her hand.

"It takes courage to admit you've been wrong, young one. And I accept your apology." She smiled and was greeted with a cheeky grin.

"Wanna surprise Quigee?"

/Oh the recuperative powers of children./

"Surprise him? How?" She couldn't help feeling a little suspicious.

"It's a secret."

"Should I be concerned?" she asked, only half joking.

"No. It's OK, I'm not gonna do anything bad - promise." He rubbed his bottom. "Not ever again."

T'Lara stood and walked to the other side of the room - partly to hide her smile, but also to retrieve something from one of her bags. She placed the small jar in the pocket of her gown and turned back to the child.

"OK. Let's go and surprise him."

Obi-Wan held out his hand and she enveloped it in hers. They walked down the corridor in conspiratorial silence.

Qui-Gon was uneasy. He paced the floor of his quarters, counting off the minutes of the child's absence. He knew, by tracing the child's Force signature, that he was still in the vicinity, but more than that was a mystery.

Suddenly, he sensed the child was close. He quickly positioned himself back on the couch and closed his eyes. As the door opened, he heard a familiar little giggle.

/Is that a good sign or not?/

A small hand rested on the man's chest.

"Quigee? You awake?"

"Hmm?"

T'Lara noted that Qui-Gon gave the worst example of pretending to wake up that she'd ever seen.

"What is it, little one?"

Obi-Wan looked behind him and Qui-Gon followed his gaze.

"T'Lara?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "He said it was a surprise."

Qui-Gon sat up and stretched, yawning broadly.

/Don't overdo it, Qui./

"What surprise?"

The child went and stood near the table, pulling nervously on his fingers.

"I…I…" he faltered and looked up at the two adults.

"Go on, little one." Qui-Gon encouraged.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "I wanted to say I was really sorry for spoiling your dinner and I won't do it again - ever - and I want us all to be friends." The words came out in a rush, and he bowed his head as soon as they'd tumbled from his mouth.

There was a brief silence, and Obi-Wan looked at the adults to see if his offer had been accepted.

T'Lara took a step towards the child. "Obi-Wan, I would be honoured to call you my friend." She held out her hand and he accepted it, a small handshake sealing the new friendship.

The boy allowed himself a small grin. He looked over at Qui-Gon and received an approving nod, and through the link he felt an almost overwhelming surge of love. His confidence returning, he pulled out a chair and motioned for T'Lara to take a seat.

"There are only two chairs, little one." Qui-Gon noted.

"I know. I thought you and your friend would like some…privacy." He bit his lip, hoping that the Jedi would understand his intentions. He pulled out the other chair, his green eyes pleading for Qui-Gon's acceptance.

Qui-Gon seated himself at the table and smiled.

"And what do you intend to do, imp?"

"I'm gonna go back to the crèche and play draigons with my friends before bedtime." There was no reproach in his voice, no jealousy, just understanding.

Qui-Gon made to rise. "I'll escort you back."

Obi-Wan tutted. "I know the way, Quigee. Could get there with my eyes shut."

T'Lara stifled a giggle and Qui-Gon struggled to keep a straight face.

He sat down. "Very well, imp. If that is what you wish. But will you do me a favour? Keep your eyes open - I hate to think of you bouncing off walls."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and threw his arms around the Jedi's waist.

"OK, I'll keep them open." He squeezed tight and was rewarded with an equally enthusiastic hug. "Love you Quigee." he said, his voice muffled in the folds of the man's tunic.

"And I love you, imp." Qui-Gon sent his feelings of pride in the boy through the link and the little one blushed.

"Hey, do I get one of those?"

Obi-Wan gave Qui-Gon an extra squeeze and his most brilliant smile and then went around the table to be enfolded in T'Lara's open arms.

"I'm sorry, Master T'Lara." he whispered.

"No more apologies are necessary, my little friend." She put her mouth close to his ear. "Is your bottom still hurting?" she whispered.

The child blushed furiously and nodded. The Healer reached into her pocket and pulled out the little jar, pressing it into his hands. "Just rub some of this on, it'll take some of the sting away."

He looked up at her and smiled. "Thank you."

"But Obi-Wan? Don't tell Quigee or he might just make my bottom sting too."

Obi-Wan giggled and hid the jar inside his tunic. "OK."

As the door closed behind the boy, T'Lara turned to face Qui-Gon.

"That is one special little boy." she said, smiling broadly.

"Indeed he is - most special."

The Healer poured them both a drink of Melian wine.

"What were you two whispering about?"

She nearly spilt her drink.

"Um…nothing."

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, all right. I gave him some salve just to take some of the sting away."

Qui-Gon stood up.

"Brat."

"Now, Qui, don't be…Qui Gon!"

Master Healer T'Lara made a mad dash for the door with Master Diplomat Qui-Gon Jinn hot on her heels, an evil grin on his lips. She never made it.

THE END