Author: Chaos
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Qui-gon and Obi-wan and the universe they come from, along with their vehicle and all their luggage belong to George Lucas exclusively. They are respectfully borrowed with no intent to profit thereby or infringe on the copyright thereof.



Section 4

More than three quarters of the way through her morning jog, Debrah heard the stairs creak, heralding the imminent arrival of at least one of her guests. She glanced over her left shoulder and caught sight of bare feet and a pair of unidentifiable legs in off-white pants coming around the corner of the single switch-back landing. The panel on the treadmill beeped at her. The timer showed that there was only three minutes left to go. When she looked back at the stairs, Obi-wan had descended into full view. Debrah staggered and had to grab the hand rails to keep from falling. As it was, her jaw hit full extension and was reluctant to return to its normal position.

Men, no matter how young, who look like that should not be allowed to walk around shirtless without a verbal warning and clearly posted danger signs. Those would have been her thoughts if her mind had been organized enough to produce coherent thoughts. His short-cropped hair was sleep tousled and his lips were pulled into a slight, mischievous grin, but that was the least of it. There was not a single ounce of extra flesh on that body. His muscles were all clearly, beautifully defined. From his trim, flat stomach, to his broad shoulders, to the ends of his corded arms he was a complete and utter drool fest. And Debrah was having a hard time concentrating on putting her feet down on the moving track belt in the proper order.

Tearing her eyes away with difficulty, Debrah prayed with all her being that he hadn�t seen her make a total fool out of herself. As the time ran out and the track belt slowed to a stop, Qui-gon came down the stairs and joined his young friend. She admitted to herself that he looked pretty damn good too, though in a more mature, sophisticated way.

And they�re in my house!! Sleeping just down the hall from me! she thought with prideful glee.

Debrah stepped down off the tread mill and walked off the weird sensation of the floor moving beneath her that she always got from a tread mill. Then she sank to the floor and did her cool down stretching. After a few moments it registered that they were just standing there, staring out the sliding-glass door at the scenery. The sun was up high enough that the sky was light, but not high enough to have cleared the ridge above the house yet.

The woman leaned over to look into the kitchen past the breakfast counter and glanced at the time display on the microwave. It was hardly even seven o�clock. �I hope I didn�t wake you guys with the tread mill going?�

�No,� Obi-wan replied. �We are used to rising early.�

Rats, she shook her head and mentally condemned them to one of the worst categories she could conceive of. Morning people. I knew there had to be something wrong with them.

�Are you ready for some breakfast?� she inquired.

�We would appreciate that, thank you.� Qui-gon�s voice was always so calm, so even.

The blond woman levered herself up off the floor and walked into the kitchen. Pulling pans and bowls out of cupboards and hauling out one of the industrial-sized bags of ez-baking mix that her father was so fond of buying, she began preparing pancakes and eggs. Debrah was always a better cook when she was cooking for someone else. Her father had been right when he�d worried about her starving at school. It just wasn�t worth it to her to put a lot of effort into cooking for just one person.

�So,� she began, trying to make conversation. �I heard Obi-wan call you �master�, Mr. Jinn. Are you some sort of martial arts instructor? A monk or something?�

�Yes, Obi-wan is my student. And, please, just call me Qui-gon.�

�Ah, okay.� Debrah smiled at them as they came into the kitchen. �I�ve had some training in Tae Kwon Do. What style do you teach?�

�It is a mix of several styles actually. There is no one particular style that even makes up the majority of it.�

�Yeah, there are a bunch of hybrids out there. Quite a few of them are highly effective from what I�ve seen.�

�Do you have a place we could practice?� Obi-wan asked.

�Umm,� Debrah thought about it. �Yeah. You can practice out on the deck. There are some mats in the loft over the garage. You guys can go get them down while I finish up in here.�

�Would you show us, please?� Qui-gon asked politely. He did everything politely, she thought to herself and checked to make sure that nothing would be sitting on a hot burner while she was out of the kitchen.

�Sure.� She led them through the house to the back door and into the garage. She pointed to a ladder leaning up against one wall. �There�s the ladder. There�s the mats. Go ahead and get them both down.� Debrah reached out and smacked a button on the right side of the doorway and the corresponding side of the garage door began to roll up and over the empty spot where a car should have been. �When you get the mats down, take them around the side of the house,� she gestured with a thumb, �and drop them on the deck.�

Debrah carefully kept her eyes away from the left side of the garage as the two men moved past her. Where Mom�s car should be. The car her parents had been driving the night of the accident. The car they had died in. Again, she pushed the flood of negative emotion behind the wall she had created and went on with her tasks.

�Oh, and watch out for spiders,� she admonished as she went back into the house and shut the door behind her, leaving the two men to their task. On her way through the family room to the kitchen, Debrah stopped to open the sliding-glass door for Butch, her grey and black tabby. �Cat�s always on the wrong side of the door,� she muttered to herself. The cat trotted back the way she had come towards the laundry room and the open bag of cat food stored there.

By the time Debrah had the extra leaves out of the table, the places set and the food ready to serve, the two men had already swept the deck clean of fallen leaves and had laid the mats down carefully in the widest spot there was available.

Half way through the meal the doorbell rang and Debrah rose from her chair to answer it. She walked through the living room to the entry hall and smiled as she caught sight of her visitor through the cut-glass windows. The front door swung open to reveal the cheerful face of her next door neighbor. �Diane. Come in.� The dark-haired woman slipped inside and shut the door behind her with quick, almost nervous gestures.

�Debrah, I thought that was your car in the drive way, but I thought that I should come check anyway. How are you?�

Debrah sighed deeply. �I�m doing okay. I think I�d be doing better if I�d been able to attend the funeral, but what with school and all . . .� she trailed off and fought back the tears that seemed to never be far from her eyes these days. �I really miss them, but, But I�ll be okay.�

Diane wrapped her in a hug. �Your parents were two of the best people I�ve ever known. We were all very sorry to see them go.�

�Thank you, Diane. That means a lot to me.� Debrah murmured back to her. �Oh, and thank you for feeding the cats while I was gone.�

�No problem. If you need anything else, you just let me know, Okay?�

�Okay.�

The slim woman ducked back out the door and was gone, leaving a reassuring grin behind her as she went. Debrah smiled. Diane and Jack, her husband, had been her family�s closest neighbors for fifteen years and more. They were a great pair, always willing to help out at a moments notice. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes to make sure they were free of tears before returning to the table and her guests.

After a quiet breakfast, the two men went out onto the deck to practice. Debrah dumped the dishes in the sink and pulled on a pair of sandals. The trailer was waiting and procrastinating any longer would serve no useful purpose at all. First, she brought in all her laundry and sorted it, starting a load before putting all the clean stuff away. Then she began to drag in all her other possessions. There was that ugly red, gold and green chair, the most comfortable chair she�d ever sat in, but ugly as sin. Her boombox, her tube of rolled posters, her box of old text books, all went in and got sorted and put away immediately. There were guests and she needed to keep the house clean. Her parents weren�t around any more to remind her of things like that. She choked back the involuntary sob that thought elicited and forced herself to continue with her chore. There was no point in dwelling on it. It hurt enough as it was.

Once the trailer was empty, she straightened all the bedrooms, making the beds, vacuuming the floors, dusting. After that Debrah wandered the house looking for something to keep her busy. It wasn�t even quite ten o�clock yet and the whole house had been straightened up. Not that there had been a whole lot to do since there hadn�t really been anyone in the house since the funeral. There had to be something else she could do, despite the tidy state of the house. She didn�t want to have time to think, time to let the emotions she�d been holding back overwhelm her.

A particularly loud thump from outside drew her to a window overlooking the deck. Obi-wan was sprawled across the mat, Qui-gon standing over him, having just completed some sort of throw. Martial arts- that was how she�d managed to stay sane all through high school. The physical outlet it provided had helped her keep her emotions balanced through that stressful time. The discipline she had learned had taught her to control her temper, which had kept more than one teacher and fellow student from serious harm.

Martial arts. It was a good idea. Maybe they�d let her practice, even spar, with them and maybe she�d learn something new. Goodness knew she was still in a learning mode from so many years of school.

*******

�Mind if I join in?� Debrah asked casually. Both men stopped in their drill and turned to look at her as she stood leaning against the sill of the opened sliding-glass door.

�You wish to spar with us?� Qui-gon asked. She thought that he looked mildly surprised by her request.

�Yeah. I haven�t had a good sparring match in,� Debrah rolled her green eyes upward in thought. �Oh, three years now. I was hoping to be able to get back into the habit now that I�m home again. You don�t mind, do you?� She looked back and forth between them to see if she was interrupting.

�No, not at all. Please join us. In fact,� the tall man offered her one of his enigmatic smiles, �If you are ready, you can face Obi-wan now.�

�Sure.� She kicked off her sandals and stepped onto the mat as Qui-gon stepped off. The simple fact that she was on a mat again was enough to start her heart thumping a little faster. She�d always been one of the best in the school at sparring, even with multiple opponents. She�d been right, this was a great idea. �Just bear in mind that I haven�t done this in a while and my timing and responses will be rusty to begin with.�

Obi-wan graced her with that expression she was coming to call his smart-aleck smile. �Excuses already? We haven�t even started yet.�

Debrah gave him a mock glare, the exact same glare she would have pinned on Justin had he uttered those words. �But the point of martial arts is not to have to use it.� she quoted, then bounced on her toes and swung her legs a little to make sure her muscles were still loose enough while the young man stepped off to the side to confer with his teacher who had gestured for him to come close.

�Do not take advantage, Obi-wan. I want you to spar her without using the Force to anticipate her moves or to enhance your own.�

�Very well, Master.� The shorter man glanced over at where Debrah waited patiently. �At least she hasn�t the reach on me, the way you do.� he murmured half to himself.

�Life isn�t fair, Obi-wan. Don�t expect special favors like level playing fields.�

�Yes, Master,� he responded contritely.

Obi-wan stepped back to the center of the mats with Debrah. She bowed to him in the traditional show of respect before easing back into her fighting stance. Most people she sparred were thrown off a little by her stance. The majority of right-handed people used a right leg back stance, but she used left leg back, right hand low over her leg and open, left hand chest-high and open. It allowed her the benefit of having her faster leg in the faster position, giving her that much of an extra speed advantage. Her hands tended to weave in small circles as well, creating a visual distraction where opponents tended to focus.

Obi-wan did indeed adopt a right leg back stance, opening their target zones to each other, but it was a shallower stance than Debrah would have expected. She was turned almost side-ways to him, but he was still more than three-quarters facing her, his hands held loosely at about chest height. This is going to be interesting. she thought.

Debrah nodded to herself, a slight bobbing movement of her head, as she took in his stance. Then, she twisted her hips over and swiftly lifting her right leg, posted a side kick out toward his face. She knew that at their present distance the kick wouldn�t land, but it would come pretty close and she wanted to gauge his reactions. Sure enough, the young man was no novice. Instead of stepping backward, he slipped sideways toward her back to take advantage of her unprotected side. The moment he moved she judged how far he would go by the length of his legs and rechambered her right leg, thrusting out behind her in a mule kick that did drive him back.

Debrah smiled as she let her right leg drop back to the mat and turned to face Obi again. Keeping it up in the air, ready for a kick, like that was a defensive posture for her and there was no need for that right now. It felt so good to be doing this again. This was a framework of interaction with which she was familiar and comfortable. She could learn or teach without any embarrassment or awkwardness what so ever. �You�ve got good reflexes, kid. How long have you been training?�

�With Master Qui-gon? Only a few years now.� Obi-wan circled warily. This was not going to as easy as he had first thought. He had anticipated having an advantage in training even if he couldn�t use the Force, but she was good. Her technique, from what he could tell, was clean and well practiced.

The duo sparred back and forth, neither scoring any serious hits. They bantered as they danced back and forth on the mats, each commenting or complementing in turn. The blond woman half expected Mr. Moen or Master Chung to step in and show them an alternate technique to try out. Debrah kept Obi-wan out at leg�s length with her kicks since he had only an inch or two advantage on her there. On top of that, it was becoming obvious to her that he was frustrated by her almost exclusive use of kicks, but that was the nature of Tae Kwon Do. It had been developed by a taller people to use against a shorter, making best use of their natural advantage. Not that she was taller than Obi-wan, because she was not, but she knew her style inside and out and knew how to use it, even against someone with the advantage of superior reach, slight though that advantage may have been.

The woman could see that Obi wanted to come in close and try using his hands. She smiled a feral sort of smile. Maybe she should let him. Debrah felt, now, that she had a good handle on the style he was using and was willing to risk taking a few lumps to learn a little more.

She didn�t have a chance to set him up, though. He came driving in even as Debrah was letting her mind sort through the various lures she could use to bring him close. Her defenses had gotten sloppy and her hands were too far from her head. A fist came lancing toward her face and her muscles and instincts took over. She let her upper body drop away from the blow, her right leg swinging up, then around in one of her favorite kicks. The hook caught him squarely on the side of the head.

Debrah pulled the blow enough that she didn�t lay him low with it, but they both felt it connect. Obi-wan staggered, twisting away from any follow-up assault, but he needn�t have bothered. The woman had over balanced herself in her effort to escape his blow and the kick had finished off any last semblance of stability she possessed. She had to drop into a shoulder roll to keep from falling gracelessly on her side.

Green eyes filled with concern, Debrah came out of the roll on her feet and reached a hand out toward the young man. �Obi, are you okay?� But he was already back in his stance.

�Sure. I�ve been hit harder than that plenty of times. Not that I enjoyed it, mind you, but I will survive.� he responded drily. His grin erased any lingering doubt about his health, so Debrah dropped back into her stance.

�Then let�s do it again.�

It took some more sparring back and forth, with Debrah narrowly escaping a rather clever ambush, but she managed to get him back where she wanted him. She wished to see how this style of his dealt with in-fighting. When she�d been a teacher, she�d been thoroughly pummeled a couple of times by students who�d been boxers or who�d had military training, so she had few preconceptions when she finally managed to lure him in close. And it was just as well, for Obi-wan�s style dealt with close-fighting very efficiently. For a few furious moments it was thrust, block, and parry at a phenomenal rate. The blond could see why the young man had tried so hard to close with her earlier. But she was equal to the task and held him off, though it was on a purely defensive stance. It almost seemed to her that the longer she stood there, the better she could anticipate Obi-wan�s attacks. The pace became even more frantic and yet, it appeared to Debrah, that her hands just seemed to know where to go to block and counter his every move.

Suddenly, she brought her knee up sharply, thrusting it into Obi�s mid-section. His breath oomphed out and her hands tapped out the first triple attack her master had taught her. A back-fist rapped above his temple instead of on it, a reverse punch popped lightly into his solar-plexus and her follow-up ridge-hand turned into a shoulder grab with which she pushed him to the mat.

Both combatants were breathing hard when Debrah flopped down on the mat next to Obi-wan. She smiled at him and ruffled his short-cropped hair. �That was great, kid. I haven�t done that well in ages. Must be my competitive nature rearing its ugly head again. And don�t worry about being beaten in a match like this, Obi.� she glanced over her shoulder at him. �You can often learn more from a defeat than you can from a win.�

A quiet clapping brought her attention back to the edge of the mat, where Qui-gon sat. �That was excellent, Debrah. I had no idea you were that well trained.� She had forgotten all about him shortly after the match had begun, her concentration completely on analyzing Kenobi�s style and dealing with it appropriately.

�Thanks. Your student isn�t any slacker either. He nearly had me a couple of times. Tae Kwon Do�s a sturdy base to build from, and my master always taught us to be flexible, mentally as well as physically. I�ve picked up some Karate and some Wu shu and a little Ninjitsu since then. It�s all been incorporated into my personal style in some way or another.� Debrah smiled, then began to deliberately slow her breathing back down. �Of course, I have to give credit where it�s due. My older brothers taught me lots about fighting before I ever started training in martial arts.�

�Were they masters?� Obi-wan asked curiously.

The woman laughed and found that the memories didn�t hurt this time. Maybe it was because her brothers were still alive, but she was pleased by the progress all the same. �No, just boys who were bigger than me. We grew up very rough and tumble in this house.� She lay back on the mat, her hands behind her head, staring up through the overhanging boughs of the old oak that leaned out over this corner of the deck. �We were always getting in trouble for fighting with each other. It wasn�t that we didn�t like each other, either. Leigh is one of my best friends, but he and I fought like cats and dogs growing up. I guess it�s that competitive nature again.� Debrah tossed an amused glance between her two guests. �Three guesses why we Reimers kids require twice as much personal space as just about any other human on the planet.�

�Someone entering your personal space became a warning of imminent attack?� Qui-gon hazarded.

�Exactly,� she laughed. �Not that we were being attacked, but the possibility was certainly there. Often we would sneak up on one another just to see when the other would notice we were there.� The blond head shook back and forth. �Silly, childish pranks, but we had fun.�

�Well,� Qui-gon unfolded his long length from where he was sitting and stepped onto the mat. �Are you ready for your second match?�

Debrah looked up in surprise. �With you?�

�Why not?� he asked in an amused manner. �I don�t see any other opponents for you to spar.�

She snorted. �Three reasons. One,� she began ticking the points off on her fingers. �You�re the master, meaning automatically that you are Obi�s superior in both technique and experience. Two, you�ve been sitting on your butt while Obi and I danced around on the mat. Hence, you are fresh and rested while I�m tired. And three, you�ve been watching every move I�ve made. You�ve been analyzing my style and probably have all the strengths and weaknesses laid out like a road map.� She put her hands down and pushed herself up on her elbows. �I�m going to get my clock cleaned on this one and I�m not looking forward to it.�

�Were you not the one who said more could be learned from a defeat than a win?� the master asked in a curious tone.

Debrah half snarled to hear her own words used against her like that. A soft sound that was suspiciously close to a snicker issued from Obi-wan�s vicinity. �You�re enjoying this, aren�t you?� she shot at him in a voice full of mock testiness. The young man nodded unashamedly. �Brat.�

She levered herself back to her feet and made a playful kicking motion in Obi-wan�s direction to get him moving off the mat. �Alright, Master Jinn.� Debrah sighed. �Let�s get this over with. I have more laundry to do and the sooner we do this the sooner the bruises will fade.�

�Are you that unsure of your own ability, then?�

�No, but I am that sure I barely beat your apprentice.�

�Don�t worry about it, Debrah,� Obi-wan said from the sidelines. �He does this to me all the time.� She shook her head at her own folly. She�d asked if she could join them. That�s because you�re an idiot, Reimers, she told herself crossly, An idiot and a masochist.

Debrah bounced back and forth on the mat, keeping on her toes, waiting to see what attack the master would throw at her first. But he didn�t. He waited calmly in the middle of the mats for her to come to him, something she was loath to do. He�d obviously been paying close attention during her match with Obi. He�d just as obviously twigged to the fact that she didn�t like to attack, but preferred to defend and counter. He was going to continue waiting, she just knew it.

Deciding to throw caution to the wind, Debrah launched into one of the more difficult kicks in her repertoire. Taking a swinging step toward Qui-gon with her left foot, she continued the turn, jerking her right knee up, pulling herself into the air and starting herself spinning. Her left leg came full circle in a round house kick and swept impressively across at head level for the tall man. Only, he wasn�t there anymore. The woman landed and skip-hopped on past to put herself out of range for any counter the master might have had lined up for her.

Qui-gon�s own kick stopped short a mere inch and a half from her ribs, his leg at full extension. That was close, Reimers. Perhaps you ought to pay a little more attention to where your opponent is. Debrah waited for a follow-up attack, but the master had gone back to defending the center of the mat. He was going to force her to attack him. Like Horatio on the bridge, he would win if she did not attack, but unlike the Spartans who had faced that brave warrior and eventually defeated him, she was alone.

The blond threw a few feints, but Qui-gon was not fooled by them. Probably because of how pathetic and planned they look, Reimers. Debrah thought a moment. Staying out at kicking range would do her absolutely no good what so ever. His legs were much longer than hers were. No, she would have to take this in close, but he would still have the reach on her. Hit-n-run, then, she decided. Rush in, throw a few, and back out before I get clobbered.

Debrah skipped in at him, just as she had a couple of times before, but instead of skipping back out again, she lunged toward him, one hand high for an overhead strike, the other low to protect her ribs till she was inside and could use it to throw another strike.

Qui-gon�s front hand intercepted her hammer-fist with ease, deflecting it wide, but even as Debrah�s other hand started moving, his free one intercepted it as well. Then, in a lightning fast move, he slipped one leg behind hers and shoved with both hands holding her wrists. She knew it the second she started to overbalance. She could almost see what the result would be and she determined stubbornly not to go down alone.

Using his grip on her wrists for leverage and throwing her legs forward, she contacted with his support leg, kicking it out from under him. Together they tumbled to the mats in a knot of tangled arms and legs, Debrah taking the brunt of the fall. She tried to twist to her left to roll out if it, but with Qui-gon so close and still holding to her wrists, all she managed was to land slightly on her left shoulder instead of flat on her back. Her breath whooshed out when the tall master landed on her a split second later.

For a stunned breathless moment or two they just lay there, nose to nose, and stared into each other�s eyes. His eyes weren�t just blue, she could see that now, even without her glasses. They were a lovely grey-blue. They had a depth and wisdom in them that belied the youthful frame they were set in. There was age and experience in those blue orbs. They had seen much of the world and had learned thereby. He had, Debrah decided, what poets would call an old soul.

�Your eyes are not really green.� That startled her. Here she�d been reading his soul through his eyes and he�d been internally debating the exact color of hers.

�Yeah, well, you�re the only one other than my sister who�s ever been close enough to see that.� she said drily. He was right, at least according to her sister, Christine. Debrah�s eyes were gold around the pupil, dark blue around the edges. The blending of the two colors made her eyes look, from any distance of over a foot, like a creamy jade green.

�I beg your pardon.� He rolled off her with a hint of an embarrassed flush about his cheeks and offered her an hand to help her up.

�Thanks.� Debrah straightened her shirt and rolled her left shoulder a little. Damn! I better not have damaged it any further. Blasted thing hurts often enough as it is without making it worse. �Well, that wasn�t as big a disaster as I had imagined it would be.�

�If you had not anticipated failure, it would not have been inevitable.� Qui-gon remarked in the tone of one quoting a platitude.

�Yeah, well, hope for the best, plan for the worst.� Debrah shrugged. �Thank you for the exercise. Let me know when you guys are ready for lunch. I�ll be upstairs cleaning myself up.�

As soon as the woman was out of ear shot, Obi-wan rounded on his teacher. �Master, you said not to use the Force to spar her, but I distinctly felt you use it to anticipate her attack.�

�Did you feel anything else, Padawan?�

The young man was taken aback by that. He furrowed his brow in thought. �Yes, I did. There were tiny pulses in the Force all the way through the match. But, I couldn�t focus on where they were coming from.�

�Debrah was using the Force to anticipate your moves and mine.� Obi-wan gaped at his master for a moment before covering up his surprise. �I do not believe that she knew she was doing it, but she was doing it none the less. I shall have to think about this.�




Section 5