"So for once they ruled in your favor." Qui-Gon heard the soft female voice behind him, and he turned to see Adi Gallia's tall form, her face displaying a warm smile.

He smoothed a hand over his beard, trying to conceal his grin. "How did you know?"

She stepped closer to him in the corridor outside the Council's Chamber. "I think the Force made its will pretty clear on the subject, don't you?"

Qui-Gon gave her a slight nod. "I suppose. But I still had reservations about the Council." He touched her shoulder before he spoke again. "I want to thank you for all you've done. . .You have been a great to support to me, and without your help, I don't know if Obi-Wan would have--"

"No thanks are needed," she said, raising her other palm. "Have you told the boy yet?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "Do you know where he is? I was hoping to talk with him as soon as possible."

Adi laughed. "I bet. I met with him earlier; he was in Bel-San's chambers. He seems to be doing fine, although he's still worried about you."

"Bel-San told me about the bond, about how he managed to strengthen it when we were in the Creche. Do you know how he accomplished that?"

She shrugged, her gaze lifting to the ceiling. "There are some things that even Jedi can't explain. He has a remarkable amount of control with the Force already, but he shouldn't have been able to do what he did." Adi stepped back slightly, giving Qui-Gon a deep nod. "Well, Master," she emphasized, "You'd best find your Padawan."

"My Padawan." Qui-Gon couldn't contain his smile. "I wonder how many Jedi lost bets today."

Adi snickered. "I don't know, but I'll tell you one thing: I'm going to have a very nice dinner tonight."

***

As the slide door to Bel-San's chamber slid open, a streak of white and gold burst through the doorway and attached itself to Qui-Gon's legs. "Master Qui-Gon!"

He reached down and ruffled the boy's hair. "Do you think I could come in, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan looked up over the tops of Qui-Gon's boots. He nodded, and then reluctantly let go of Qui-Gon's knees. "Let's go sit down, shall we?" he asked, taking the boy's hand.

They walked across the cluttered chamber to the couch, and Qui-Gon pushed aside a pile of datadisks on the Cascade Mountains of Was-4. Obi-Wan scrambled up next to him, and he climbed into Qui-Gon's lap. "Master Bel-San is in the R-E-F-R-E-S-H-E-R," Obi-Wan spelled out, whispering. "He'll be out in a minute."

Qui-Gon tried not to laugh at the boy's attempt at tact. "Did you have a good day?"

"Mm-hmm. But I missed you. I'm glad you're back now." He touched a hand tentatively to Qui-Gon's chest. "Are you still hurt?"

He met the boy's worried gaze. "I'm fine. The Healers fixed me right up, remember?"

"I know," Obi-Wan said, gently rubbing the spot where Qui-Gon had been shot. "But you were very hurt."

"I'm all right now, I promise." He covered the boy's small hand with his own. "I have something to tell you--or perhaps ask you, Obi-Wan."

"'Kay."

"I talked to the Council this afternoon."

Obi-Wan reached up and straightened the collar of Qui-Gon's robe. "Ummm, are they still mad at you?"

"No, they're not mad at me. They want me to ask you something very important."

The boy stopped fiddling with the fabric as his expression grew serious. "Okay."

Qui-Gon took a quick breath. "Do you remember how other Jedi used to meet with you sometimes, and how Master Yoda told you that you were ready to be taken as a Padawan?"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes as if thinking hard and then opened them. "Yes," he said, nodding.

"They have been trying very hard to find the best person--the best Master--for you. And they finally decided who that should be." He kept his voice level.

Biting his lip, Obi-Wan looked away. "Who did they pick?"

Qui-Gon reached out and cupped the boy's chin. "Who do you think?"

Eyes wide, Obi-Wan's elfin face lit with a smile. "You!"

He laughed at the boy's reaction, feeling small waves of happiness spilling across their bond. "If you want me for a Master, then--"

"Yes!" Obi-Wan threw his arms around him, squeezing hard. "I knew you would be."

Smoothing a hand over the boy's hair, he looked down at the exuberant child in his lap. He thought back to the tiny toddler who had wept in his arms, scared by nightmares. Qui-Gon's eyes pricked, and he blinked quickly, using the back of a hand to wipe away his tears. It had taken a miracle--perhaps several--to get them to this place, and he didn't fully understand why the Force had intervened.

"Are you okay, Master Qui-Gon?"

He smiled, hugging Obi-Wan back. "Are you sure you're ready to be a Padawan?"

Obi-Wan's eyebrows came down, making tiny furrows in his smooth forehead. "Yes," he said. "If you're ready to be a Master."

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to respond as Bel-San walked out into the central room of the apartment. "What's going on out here? It sounds like someone's having a party."

Obi-Wan leapt off the couch, ran over to the other Jedi and snatched up his hand, pumping it hard. "I'm a Padawan! And Master Qui-Gon is my Master now!"

As he walked over to where they stood, Qui-Gon flashed Bel-San a smile. "So I guess you were right from the very start."

Bel-San shrugged. "I'm always right. You'd do well to remember that." He ran his other hand through his curly hair, pushing it out of his vision. "Are you sure you talked to the Jedi Council and not some other Council? Not that I don't believe you, but. . ."

"It's all very legal, I promise."

Bel-San let out a deep sigh. "Well, let me be the first to congratulate you both." He looked down at Obi-Wan, who was still pumping his hand. "So, are you moving in right away?"

Qui-Gon shot Bel-San a silencing look, but it was too late. "Moving in?" Obi-Wan shouted, smiling again. "I get to move in with you, Master Qui-Gon?"

Bel-San started to mouth an apology, but Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes at him regardless. "Well, that may take some time, but yes, that's what will happen."

"Actually," Bel-San said, "Since Heri is going to be in the Infirmary for a few more days, they were going to have Obi-Wan stay with me. But, since you're his Master now, well, there's no reason why he shouldn't be with you."

Qui-Gon smirked. "Thank you, Bel-San. You've been most helpful."

Whooping loudly, the boy started circling the two Jedi, making a figure eight around them both. "I'm going to live in Master Qui-Gon's room, Master Qui-Gon's room. . ."

Bel-San grinned. "Welcome to parenthood."

***

"What am I supposed to call you now?" Obi-Wan sat on a stool in Qui-Gon's small kitchen, a towel draped around his slim shoulders.

Qui-Gon opened one drawer and then another, searching. "The same thing you always do." He dropped down to one knee, rifling through the contents of the bottom drawer.

"You mean Master Qui-Gon?"

"Oh." He stood up, pushing the drawer shut with his foot. "You can just call me Master. You don't have to say my name anymore." He held the silver scissors in his hand, blades to palm.

Obi-Wan kicked his dangling legs out, making the stool shake slightly. "Just plain Master?"

Qui-Gon smiled, looking back at the large blue eyes staring at him. "You've got it." He walked over to the boy, using a comb to untangle his mussed blond hair. "You need a haircut anyway."

Pulling away from the comb, Obi-Wan ducked his head. "Do you really have to cut it all off?"

"Not all of it," he said as he set the scissors down on the counter. "But just think, Obi-Wan, as soon as everyone sees you, they'll know you're a Padawan. All the other Padawans will know you've joined them."

The boy's small pink lips pressed together in a pout. "But I want to have long hair. Like you."

Qui-Gon laughed, smoothing a hand over his beard as he covered his mirth. "When you get Knighted, you can let your hair grow down to your ankles if you want. But you'll have to wait for that."

Reaching over to retrieve his scissors, he used his other hand to straighten Obi-Wan's head. "You need to sit still. Can you do that for me?"

Obi-Wan looked up at him, his expression slightly wary. "You won't mess it up, will you?"

He chuckled. "I've done this a few times. Don't worry. I may not be able to cook, but I can cut hair pretty well."

When he lifted the scissors, the boy shut his eyes tightly, as if waiting to receive an inoculation. "It doesn't hurt, Obi-Wan. Just sit still and this won't take long at all." One blue eye peeked open. "Okay."

Qui-Gon lifted sections of blond hair up, holding them between his fingers and cutting them short. As he worked, light tufts of golden fuzz drifted slowly to the floor around them, coating the tiled kitchen floor in flax. "Who knew you had this much hair?"

"Is it short yet?"

"It's getting there." Qui-Gon cut carefully around the boy's ears, remembering to keep one section behind the right ear from the scissors' bite.

"My head feels funny."

Qui-Gon stopped, quickly sensing him through their bond. "Are you all right?"

"No, not bad funny. Funny like my head�s too light. And cold."

Relieved, Qui-Gon resumed his shearing. "You're getting there. I need to finish the top and the back."

"I want to see it!"

Qui-Gon smiled, brushing off some gold hairs off his fingertips. "You will. Give me a minute or two.�

He thought back to the first time Master Yoda had cut his hair, recalling how much he�d hated it. It had been relatively useful in saber practice, not getting one�s hair in one�s eyes, but as soon as he was Knighted, he didn�t cut it for several years, just to make a point. Master Yoda sniffed at such vanities, but Qui-Gon didn�t care. After nearly 800 years of life, fashion took a backseat with his former Master.

�I think you�re about done.� He snipped a few stray hairs that poked up higher than the rest of the boy�s shorn locks. Qui-Gon took a step back, surveying his handiwork.

�Are you finished?� �Lemme see!� Obi-Wan jumped down from the stool, pulling off the towel and spreading more gold hair all over the floor.

He handed the boy a mirror, hoping to keep him contained in the kitchen until he could sweep up the mess. He watched Obi-Wan�s startled reaction with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.

�Whoa.� Obi-Wan smoothed both hands over his head, rubbing his scalp. �I look funny.�

�You look perfect.�

Obi-Wan turned his head, trying to see it from all angles. �Wait! You missed a piece back here.�

Walking back to the counter, Qui-Gon retrieved the scissors. Using his other hand, he freed up a thin section of his own hair by the nape of his neck. In one quick movement, he cut the piece away. �Here. You need to sit down again.�

�More sitting down, Master Qui-Gon?� The boy grinned. �I mean Master.�

Qui-Gon smiled back. �Your hair�s not long enough yet for a braid. I�m going to braid a little of mine with yours until yours gets long enough.�

�But you have brown hair.� �It�ll look fine, don�t worry. You don�t even want to know how strange I looked with a white braid.�

Obi-Wan�s eyes widened as Qui-Gon started to plait the pieces together. �You had a Master Yoda hair braid?�

�Let�s just say I was very glad when my own grew in.� After several minutes of braiding, he finished off the bottom with a small bead. �There. You�re done.�

He stood back, looking at the transformed boy standing in his kitchen. For a moment, he almost felt guilty for changing the child�s appearance to such a degree. Obi-Wan was a Padawan now, and his Padawan, for that matter. This is going to take some getting used to, Qui-Gon thought.

Obi-Wan tugged hard on the braid. �You sure this won�t come off?�

�Believe me, it�s not going anywhere. Alla�s used to fall off before hers grew in, and finally Master Yoda told me the secret, and it never came off again.�

�There�s a secret?�

Qui-Gon gave him a half-smile. �I�ll tell you when you need to know.�

The boy yawned loudly, rubbing his hands over his head to get rid of the bits of hair still clinging to his neck and scalp. �I�m all itchy.�

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes, and checked his chrono. �Oops. It�s already past ten. I�ve kept you up far too late.�

�Not too late. Stay up with you,� the boy said, walking over to Qui-Gon�s legs and hugging them.

�You need to get cleaned up first, and then it�s straight to bed.�

They walked down the short hall to the refresher, where Obi-Wan rinsed off. He stood shivering, wrapping from head to foot in one of Qui-Gon�s towels, dripping on the floor. �We never got my pajamas,� the boy pointed out, his lips trembling.

Qui-Gon sighed. �I know, all your things are still in your room. We�ll have to get you moved in tomorrow. Put your leggings on again and I�ll find you a tunic so you won�t freeze to death.�

He returned to the refresher with an old tunic--one that had shrunk during an early attempt at laundry--to find Obi-Wan making faces at himself in the mirror. �So how do you like the haircut?�

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. �I don�t know.� He shook his head, flinging water on the mirror. �But it dries fast!�

He hung up the towel and quickly pulled the tunic over the shivering boy. �You�ll be warm in no time.�

�Master Qui--Master, why is it always so cold in here?�

Qui-Gon scooped him up, carrying him out of the refresher. �It�s not cold. It�s perfect.�

�I�m cold.�

�You won�t be once you get in bed.�

�Is it always going to be this cold in here?�

Qui-Gon laughed despite himself. �We�ll worry about that later, okay?� He switched on the lamps in his chamber, and pulled back the blankets on his sleepcouch. Gently placing Obi-Wan on the couch, he covered him up quickly. �Getting warmer yet?�

Obi-Wan nodded, his eyes half-closed. �Where are you going to sleep? Is this my bed now?�

�No, this is my bed,� he explained patiently. �We will move your bed and your things in the other chamber tomorrow, all right? But we can share for tonight.�

�Not sleepy,� Obi-Wan said quietly. �Wanna stay up with you.�

Qui-Gon chuckled softly. �If you think I�m staying up, you�re crazy. It has been a long day.� He shut off the hololamps and walked across the dim chamber to the bedside, removing his belt and lightsaber. �Move over, Little One,� he said, sitting on the edge of the couch.

He felt the boy shift, and he laid back against the pillow, pulling up the blanket. Obi-Wan crawled up against him instantly. �Are you warm enough?�

�Now I am,� the boy said sleepily, pushing his still slightly-damp head underneath Qui-Gon�s arm.

�Are you sleepy yet?�

�No,� came the hazy reply.

Qui-Gon smoothed a hand over the child�s head, resting it there. He closed his eyes, feeling the pull of sleep on his tired mind. Reaching out with the Force, he tentatively sensed the mindlink between them, still amazed it had survived.

�Master?�

He opened his eyes. �Are you all right, Obi-Wan?�

�Is Guod still here?�

Qui-Gon shook his head in the darkness, touching the boy�s shoulder. �You don�t need to worry about him anymore. He will never come near you again. He is far away from us now, and he can�t get away.�

�Did it hurt when he shot you?� Obi-Wan�s voice was quiet and small.

He absently rubbed the place between his ribs where the blast had hit. �I was only worried about you. I didn�t want anything bad to happen to you. And then you helped me feel better, remember?�

Obi-Wan nodded against his side. �I used the bond. I fixed it.�

�I know you did. How did you know what to do?� Qui-Gon listened intently; he hadn�t known the boy was even aware of what he�d done.

�I remembered it the way it was. And then you were there, in my head, like before. And the Force helped me.� Obi-Wan yawned again, louder this time.

Qui-Gon stayed silent for a moment. �I�m glad.�

Shifting again, Obi-Wan rested his head carefully on Qui-Gon�s chest. �Goodnight Master Qui-Gon. I mean Master.� He breathed softly through his mouth. �I love you.�

A crooked smile curved Qui-Gon�s lips, and he patted the child�s back before closing his eyes. �You too.�