“About time you showed up,” a voice sounded as he walked in the door.

Bel-San grinned up at Master La’Re, who stood on a plastiglass table hanging an iridescent banner from the ceiling of the Year Five Common Room. “Didn’t your master ever tell you not to use furniture as a stepladder? Honestly, were you raised by Wookies?”

La’Re finished her task and jumped down easily to the floor beside him, flashing him a rakish smirk. “That’s a very species-discriminatory comment. Is this the sort of thing you’re teaching the children?”

Bel-San stroked his freshly-shaved chin as though pondering her words. “You’re just jealous that Qui-Gon asked me to help with his classes and not you.”

The female Jedi nearly doubled over with laugher, a genuine smile stretching across her face. “Now there’s one mission I will leave solely to you. How’s that going, anyway?”

The young Teacher shrugged, and at La’Re’s prompting, he began decorating the main table with prismatic stars. “It’s business as usual where our good friend Jinn is concerned. He’s a good teacher--and by that I mean he explains things well to the children--but he has difficulties in relating to the little ones.” Bel-San used his Force sense to ensure they were out of hearing range. “Until he’s willing to risk establishing a relationship with the children, there’s not much I can do to help him.” He paused for a moment, and then resumed his easy grin. “But we’re having a good time team-teaching, and I think the little ones are learning, and that’s the goal, isn’t it?”

La’Re brought out several plates of steaming pastries and set them on the table, narrowing her gaze as she inspected her handiwork. “I thought the goal was to keep Jinn under supervision for a few months.”

“Well, that goes without saying.” Bel-San nodded, reaching out a finger to taste the spilling cream from the closest pastry, only to have it slapped away by a protective La’Re.

“That’s for the children! The ones under five feet tall, I mean, and that excludes you.”

Bel-San sniffed, feigning remorse. “I’m sorry. I’ve ruined everything. I’ll go now.”

La’Re rolled her eyes. “Honestly. I don’t know why I put up with you men and your...”

“‘You men,’ you say? Derogatory! What sort of thing are you teaching the children around here!” Bel-San jibed, pointing an accusatory finger at her as she brought out another platter of rolled cheeses. “Now I know why you never married...oh, what was his name. . .” he trailed off, baiting her hook well.

La’Re’s eyes flashed, but she only smiled back coyly. “Nice try, Bel-San, but I know better than to give you the satisfaction.” She patted his shoulder before she set down a stack of plates beside the food-laden table. “You know, it often helps not to insult women if you’re trying to impress them.”

“What?!” Bel-San cried, staring at her as an unwanted flush touched his cheeks, completely aghast. “You read far too deeply into this, methinks. Just because you have some sort of agenda here...”

“Oh please,” La’Re smiled back, her eyebrows cocked. “Everyone knows about your feelings for. . .” She stopped, and then looked up suddenly. “Qui-Gon!”

Raising his hands in innocence, the Jedi broke in quickly, his tone indignant. “I don’t have feelings for Qui-Gon!”

Bel-San turned to face the door as a familiar voice echoed in the large chamber. “You’ve broken my heart, Bel-San.”

Looking to the entranceway to the Common Room, Bel-San watched as the imposing silhouette of his friend walked in. He felt a shamefaced grin cross his face. “Qui-Gon. Why don’t you go out and come in again; I don’t think you walked in at just the right moment to make me look like a complete idiot.”

“I thought I did quite well.” Qui-Gon’s lips curved upwards in a smile as he spoke. “You always did have a knack for putting your foot in your mouth.” He set down a small wrapped package before making his way over to where La’Re stood. “I’m glad we got this all cleared up, though.” he snickered, flashing Bel-San a cocky smirk.

“Can we just get on with this party, please, before every woman in the Temple gets the wrong idea about me?” Bel-San protested, his voice almost pleading.

La’Re smothered a chuckle. “Some women actually find that intrigui. . .”

“La’Re!” Bel-San growled.

“It’s true.”

“Do you still want me to help out or not?” he huffed, his tone only slightly threatening.

“You don’t have a choice; you promised Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon reminded him.

Bel-San sighed. “So I did.” He looked out the door; the corridor still remained quiet. “When are the children arriving?”

La’Re checked her chrono, and she quickly skittered to the table, rearranging items. “They’ll be here soon. Very soon. There’s still a few more things in the kitchen; could you both go grab them for me?”

Bel-San nodded and followed Qui-Gon into the adjoining kitchen. “So, did you have any luck?” he asked his friend.

Qui-Gon gave a quiet sigh; Bel-San could tell this matter had been quite a serious decision for him. “I found something. I think he’ll like it. At least I hope he will. It’s so hard when they’re this age; you never know what will interest them.”

Bel-San laughed, slapping him on the back. “I can’t believe you went all the way to the Parkin area of Corcusant to get him a present. You hate Parkin at this time of year.” Bel-San tapped a finger on his chin. “Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time you left the Temple for anything other than a mission.”

Qui-Gon’s expression remained passive. “I had to go to Parkin. That’s where the best toy shops are.”

“Only the best for your boy, eh?”

Bel-San felt a ripple of dissatisfaction issue from his friend. “How many times to I have to remind you, he’s not ‘my boy,’” Qui-Gon said authoritatively, and he hefted the last platter of fruit off the counter, turning back into the Common Room.

Bel-San stared at the dish of pudding in front of him, and looked very seriously at it before walking into the next room. “I really should just keep my mouth shut today before I end up really pissing someone off.”

***

Qui-Gon sat quietly by the window as the throng of children crowded around the table, each angling for a piece of pastry or a wedge of fruit. Their shrieks of joy made the room thrum with vibrations of contentment and gladness, and the waves of Force energy emanating from the happy party-goers worked its way into every adult present. Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan donned the traditional Jedi birthday robe, which La’Re had made out of shimmering fabric. Since the children in the Creche spent so little time with their birth families, birthdays were taken a very important rites of passage for the young ones, not only as marks of time but as moments of connection. The small boy’s face lit up with a smile as he put the robe around his shoulders, and he imitated flicking off a lightsaber and thrusting it into his belt, as he had surely seen many of the Masters do. Qui-Gon felt a similar smile tug at his mouth; he couldn’t believe how much the child had grown in the short time he’d known him.

He heard La’Re’s voice shout out over the swirling mass of children. “All right! Now it’s time for us to play Where’s Teacher Bel-San?”

The children screeched in delight, and twenty-two small bodies set off in search of the curly-haired Jedi.

“What are you doing over here all alone?” an alto voice asked over his shoulder.

Qui-Gon looked up, and he smiled when he saw the speaker. “Rai! I haven’t seen you for awhile.”

She sat beside him on the window-couch, and he kissed her cheek in greeting. “Demeron and I have been busy lately. We keep playing catch-up every time we get back to the Temple, but I never feel like we get ahead.”

Qui-Gon laughed slightly. “I think I know how you feel.”

Rai reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “How are you faring? You look pretty tired to me.”

He shook his head, embarrassed at the attention. “I’m fine, Rai, really. It’s just very strange to be back here. My life had a...certain rhythm,” he faltered, gesturing with his hands as he searched for words. “And now that pattern has been replaced with another, and I’m still trying to find my balance.” He looked at her, but then dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t complain to you...”

“You’re not complaining,” Rai corrected. “You’re adjusting.” She sighed for a moment, brushing back a loose strand of hair from her face. “You’ve had a rough couple years, Qui-Gon. You don’t just bounce back from that sort of thing.”

He stiffened slightly; he tried to relax himself, but he knew she noticed. “Do you mean the injury or the padawan?” he asked, his tone colder than he would have liked. “Both.” she affirmed, unwilling to let her gaze drop.

“If you want to know the truth, Rai,” Qui-Gon sighed heavily, turning to look out the window at the night-shadowed silhouette of Corcusant’s skyline, “I really don’t know if I’m ever going to. . .bounce back.”

“You still haven’t given things enough time,” Rai said firmly.

“Enough time?” Qui-Gon replied ruefully. “How long does it take to forget the greatest failure of your life?”

He closed his eyes; he didn’t want to discuss this here, not at Obi-Wan’s party. Qui-Gon swallowed in the space Rai left silent. “Once the term ends, my life can get back to normal,” he said quietly.

“Teaching isn’t your love, is it?” Rai asked, her voice equally quiet.

“Not twenty-two at once, no,” Qui-Gon answered, finally meeting her gaze. “I think I was designed for something more one-on-one. Or at least I thought I was.”

Rai raised her eyebrows, and she sighed. “You think you know your future path; I thought that once too.” She let the tiniest flicker of a smile pass over her lips. “I also thought that I was going to marry Liro-Che, if you recall.”

Qui-Gon couldn’t help but smile. “If I remember correctly, and I nearly always do, you dropped Liro-Che like the wrong end of a lightsaber the moment you met Demeron.”

“That’s probably a bit of a hyperbole, but. . .true,” Rai affirmed. “But as I said, don’t write yourself off to another ten years of endless missions. You are needed here now, you must see that.”

Qui-Gon took a deep breath, looking skeptically at her. “Yoda just wanted me to have enough time to heal. This entire charade is just an excuse to keep my feet on the ground.”

“Be that as it may, you’ve made an impact on these children,” she said, “Especially Obi-Wan.”

“It seems everyone has an opinion on that subject,” Qui-Gon said, drawing a knee up towards his chest as he sat.

Rai shrugged. “It’s very clear how much he looks up to you,” she paused, “and how much he means to you.”

Qui-Gon didn’t move, refusing any sort of expression to pass over his face. Suddenly, a thought raced through his mind, and he pursed his lips before he spoke. “Demeron sent you over here, didn’t he?”

“What?” she hissed, keeping her voice down, a perplexed look on her face. “No, he didn’t. I wanted to talk to you about this of my own volition.”

Qui-Gon sighed, staring at the tiled floor of the Common Room. “Forgive me, I spoke out of turn.” He kept his voice level as he spoke. “I know that I’m not ready to take another padawan. I probably never will again. And it only makes things more. . .complicated where the boy is concerned.” He ran a hand through his loose brown hair, trying to quell the emotion that surely seeped into his signature. “Not to mention the fact Demeron has already claimed him. . .”

“Now that’s not fair, and you know it!” Rai said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Obi-Wan has at least another year before any talk of being accepted as a padawan learner will take place. Demeron merely keeps his eyes open; how can you fault him for that?”

“I don’t fault him. . .” Qui-Gon began, but was quickly cut off.

“You do. It’s obvious that you do.” Rai looked at him pointedly, her large eyes flashing. “Listen, Qui-Gon, I’m not here to lecture you or defend my husband; I just think you need to spend this coming year figuring out what it is you want. If it’s missions and deep space, then by all means, go. But if you’re thinking at all of resuming your role as a Master, you have a lot of things to meditate about.” She stopped suddenly, unconsciously twisting the silver band on her finger. “This life can get pretty lonely, especially when you’re away from the Temple as often as you are.”

“That’s my choice.” Qui-Gon shrugged. “I like my solitude.”

Rai scoffed. “You didn’t use to. You used to be the life of the party around here; even after Alla, you still were leaving bags of flaming bantha poodoo in front of Mace’s door.”

Qui-Gon flicked a glance at her amused expression. “So you’re disappointed that I’ve matured a little?”

“No.” she answered, giving him a nudge. “I just miss the way things used to be.” Her smile gave way to a serious countenance. “I can see you leaving here after term ends and not returning for a long time, and I think that would be a mistake. I have seen you smile more in the last few months than I have in the last two years.”

“There hasn’t been much to smile about.”

Rai sighed, and then moved to stand. “I don’t think you’re looking hard enough.” Reaching down to pull him up, she said cheerfully, “They’re opening presents. I think you need to see this.”

Qui-Gon stood reluctantly and moved over to the large circle of children on the other side of the Common Room. Sidling up beside a dripping wet Bel-San, he couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. “What happened to you?”

“I was hiding in the Meditation Garden pool,” Bel-San whispered, wiping a drop of water from the bridge of his nose.

“Good choice.” Qui-Gon smiled.

They turned their attentions to Obi-Wan, who stood in the center of the group wearing his rumpled shining robe. He grinned up at the group surrounding him, and he placed his latest gift, a small stuffed Wookie, on the ground with some of his other presents. Bant stood nearby, eyeing his unopened gifts with great anticipation.

“Who’s the next one from, Obi-Wan?” La’Re prompted, standing off to the side.

Obi-Wan looked at the tag, and then looked up with a smile. “It’s from Master Qui-Gon!”

Qui-Gon returned the boy’s smile and crossed his arms over his chest. He hoped Obi-Wan would like his gift. He’d been known in the past to occasionally fall through in the gift-giving department.

Tearing off the holographic paper that projected images of suns and moons, Obi-Wan elicited a cry of happiness. “It’s a model starship!” He searched the crowd and found Qui-Gon’s eyes. “It’s just what I wanted! Thank you!”

Qui-Gon couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. He quickly looked at Bant, who was staring at him shyly. Mouthing the words, “thank you” in her direction, the small girl giggled, clearly feeling very conspiratorial in the role she played in getting Obi-Wan’s gift.

“You’re welcome, Obi-Wan,” he said.

The small boy held tight to the package, turning it over and looking at the pictures on the back of the box. “I think I like being five,” he said to the group, and a bubble of laughter rose up from all the Masters and Teachers.

Bant spoke up timidly. “You still have mine to open, Obi-Wan.”

He nodded, and took the oddly-shaped package in his hands. Removing the paper, he began laughing as he held up the small water-filled plastiglass container. “It’s a fish!”

La’Re smiled and caught the boy’s attention. “Master Yoda said you could put the fish in the Meditation Garden pool, so that way he won’t get lonely and you can visit him whenever you like.”

“Thank you, Bant,” he smiled, giving the tiny girl a hug.

“What are you gonna name it?” Bant asked, looking curiously at the darting creature.

Obi-Wan stared at the fish for several long moments, holding his breath. He let it out in a rush, and cleared his throat, as if he was about to make a great proclamation. “It’s name is Qui-Gon, because it has a beard like he does and it has a red spot on its side like Master Qui-Gon did when he came home when he got hurt.”

Qui-Gon felt his face flush in embarrassment as all the Masters present laughed, giving him pointed looks.

“Is that okay, Master Qui-Gon?” Obi-Wan asked, looking at him worriedly.

The Jedi Master shook his head, smiling. “That’s all right, Obi-Wan. Just take good care of him.”

***

“Well, another birthday party come and gone,” Bel-San sighed, carrying one of the food trays back into the kitchen.

Qui-Gon nodded, suddenly surprised at how tired he felt. “Do you have these for all the children?” he asked, amazed at all the efforts he had taken for granted as a padawan.

“Every single one.” Bel-San grinned. “But it’s worth it. They need to know how much they’re loved, especially at this age; they’re so vulnerable.”

Qui-Gon shook his head, giving his friend a smile of admiration. “You really have found your niche here. Who knew you were going to be working with children? I always thought you’d be discovering lost tribes on unknown planets.”

Bel-San shrugged. “Yeah, well, the Force works in mysterious ways.”

Suddenly a small voice broke up the quiet of the Common Room. “I put Qui-Gon in the water and he likes it!”

Tiny feet slapped across the tiled floor, and Qui-Gon felt the small boy running into the back of his legs, attaching himself there. He turned around, and Obi-Wan stood on the tops of his boots, looking up over the tall Jedi’s knees. “Did you have a good birthday, Obi-Wan?”

The elfin face grinned and nodded. “Can I have another birthday tomorrow? This was fun.”

Qui-Gon smiled, patting the boy’s head. “How about one next year? You can have one then.”

“Will you come to my next birthday?” The child’s blue eyes were wide and guileless.

The older Jedi reached down and lifted Obi-Wan off his feet, squatting down to get on the boy’s level. “If I’m at the Temple, you can bet I’ll be there.”

Bel-San spoke up from behind them, a smile evident in his voice. “I think it’s time for the little people to be in bed.” He walked over to Qui-Gon and said, “You want me to finish up here? Go take Obi-Wan back to the Creche.”

Qui-Gon gave a slight nod, and passed his friend a look of appreciation. “Let’s head back to the Creche, shall we, Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan nodded and reached up, taking the tall Jedi’s hand. A moment passed as they moved into the corridor, and he asked thoughtfully, “Do you still have birthdays when you’re as old as you are, Master Qui-Gon?”

“Yes, you still have birthdays, but you usually don’t have parties,” Qui-Gon answered, suddenly realizing that it had been years since he’d been in the Temple on his birthday.

Obi-Wan adjusted the silvery robe he wore, trying not to trip over its hem as he walked. “Well, maybe if you’re still here for yours then someone will give you a fish too,” he said with a smile.

Qui-Gon chuckled, and let the child lead him by the hand down the corridor towards the Children’s Wing. “Maybe.”