Obi-Wan fell to the floor with a thud. "Uh."

"You over extended yourself," his master informed him, waiting as he regained his feet.

The young Jedi-in-training repressed a sigh and rose with no small amount of discomfort. Despite the padded floors in the practice room, Obi-Wan still felt battered. He had spent a better part of the morning getting to know the floor very intimately. He stood ready and waited for the next round to begin.

His master ignited his green lightsaber and moved forward. They circled each other slowly, Obi-Wan trying to anticipate the older man's next move. He even managed to hold his own for several moments.

"You're off balance, don't flail. You are holding a lightsaber, not a stick." Qui-Gon knocked him to the floor again.

Obi-Wan finally let out a sigh of frustration. There was nothing quite like learning new 'saber maneuvers when his concentration was not fully on the task. He looked up at his Master as the other man approached and met his gaze, hoping he was not disappointing him too greatly.

Qui-Gon held out a hand and helped his Padawan rise. When he was finally on his feet, he looked at Obi-Wan, the question clear in his eyes. "You're not focused today. Is something on your mind?"

"My biannual reviews start next week. This will be my first one as a senior Padawan," he explained, shaking his head in apprehension. The first year Senior Padawan reviews were notoriously hard, and he had no desire to do poorly.

Qui-Gon nodded. "You will find there will often be instances in your life when you are forced to perform under pressure or with other more pressing matters on your mind. I want you to spend the rest of our session for this morning mediating on that."

"Yes, Master."

***

Qui-Gon sensed his Padawan's attention shift from the data pad he was reading. He raised his eyes from his own work to find the young man watching him. Raising his eyebrows in a question, he waited for Obi-Wan to speak.

"Don't we have some sort of urgent, dangerous mission to attend to on Dagoba? Or maybe some dire situation has arisen on Hoth that needs our immediate attention." His voice was hopeful, though his expression had taken on a slightly pleading cast.

"Excitement, adventure. A Jedi craves not these thing." Qui-Gon quoted dutifully to his Padawan in his best imitation of his former Master's voice.

"I don't think Master Yoda knows you do that."

"And he will continue to be blissfully ignorant, won't he, Padawan?" Qui-Gon didn't seriously think that his Padawan would rat him out to his former master, but the state Obi-Wan was in left the older Jedi with some misgivings. The young man's earlier performance in the practice room had concerned him. His usually graceful and proficient Padawan hadn't sparred that clumsily in years.

Once Obi-Wan had explained the reason for his distraction, however, Qui-Gon had understood the young man's preoccupation. Obi-Wan generally was prone to anxiety about the biannual Padawan reviews as it was; now that he was a senior Padawan, he had no idea what to expect of the tests. Qui-Gon had tried over the years to break him of his propensity towards extreme anxiety about the exams, but it had as yet never worked.

Honestly, Qui-Gon found it to be one of the most interesting aspects of his Padawan's character. Obi-Wan was generally a calm individual, eager to learn and confident in his training; during regular examinations for classes he was fine. When faced with the reviews however, his Padawan turned into a mass of nerves. The younger man could not sleep without the help of the Force, the smell of food turned him interesting colors. He was generally on edge until about a day after they were finished.

"The reason we are not on a mission is specifically so you can take the review," Qui-Gon reminded him.

"I know, but don't you think it is just a little unfair to the galaxy to deprive it of its best diplomat just so his Padawan can take some silly test?"

Qui-Gon could not suppress the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I think the galaxy can survive for a few weeks without us, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan sighed. "Yes, Master.

***

Obi-Wan paced the length of his room repeating the information aloud, trying to cement it into his thoughts.

"Alvina Minor joined the Republic in 23,546, the main negotiators were Knight Brennan and Master Juslii. Brennan and Juslii. Brennan and Juslii. Okay, following the initiation ceremony, trade routes between the planet and all other Republic planets increased. . .increased, um. . ." He glanced at the datapad in his hands. "26 percent. 26, like three more than the first two year numbers. Okay. . ."

"Padawan," his Master called from the other room.

Obi-Wan walked out of his room and found his Master seated before his own work terminal. "Yes, Master?"

"I understand you're studying, but could you please keep it down just a little, or close your door?" Qui-Gon's expression was calm as ever, though the many years he had spent with the Jedi Master allowed him to read the faint exasperation evident in his eyes.

"Sorry master. I'll close my door." He turned to leave, checking his chronometer. He could still get in another three hours of studying before he knew his master would make him sleep. Or lay awake in the dark room, pretending to sleep.

"Obi-Wan."

He turned, hoping his Master would not make him stop now.

"Do you need any help?" His green eyes were kind and Obi-Wan could not help but smile.

"No, Master, thank you." He never really did study well in groups or pairs, though he truly did appreciate his offer. He walked into his room and began his recitation again.

"Okay, Alvina Minor joined the Republic in-"

"Obi-Wan, the door," Qui-Gon called from the main room.

"Yes, Master."

***

Qui-Gon sat on the balcony to the apartment he shared with Obi-Wan. He gazed out at the cityscape, enjoying the way the light from the setting sun reflected off of the buildings and the air traffic. He picked up his worn sketch pad and the fine quality charcoals Obi-Wan had given him for his birthday last year and began to sketch the scene before him.

Despite the fact that the pad was nearly four years old, he had yet to fill its pages and add it to the stacks of others that he kept among his few possessions. Although he loved to draw, paint and sketch, he'd rarely found time for it over the past few years as Obi-Wan truly came into his own as a Jedi. They had been sent into the field more often and on more dangerous and taxing missions over the past few years.

Qui-Gon looked up from his work a long while later as the light of the setting sun had diminished to the point where he could no longer continue. With a contented sigh, he replaced the charcoal into the case, placed a protector sheet over his sketch and closed the book. He stood, stretching muscles that had been still for several hours, and walked inside their apartment.

He had just turned on the lights in the common room when he felt the presence of his Padawan draw closer. Today had been the first day of his review, and Qui-Gon had been wondering how Obi-Wan felt he had done. Masters were never allowed to observe their Padawans in any part of the review, so he had had to wait for Obi-Wan to come and tell him himself.

The face of the young man who walked into their apartment did not belong to a happy individual. Not that Qui-Gon had really expected any less. His Padawan always underestimated his own success at his reviews and generally thought he had done very poorly.

"How did the first day go, Padawan?" he asked carefully, moderating his tone to appear curious and supporting at the same time.

Obi-Wan drew a breath. "There are only four days left of this," was all he said before moving into his room to drop off his things. When he returned to the common room, his expression was no less upset. "Everyone always told us that the first year Senior Padawan reviews were hard, I had hoped that they were just trying to scare us into studying more. They were right." He sat heavily in their couch and covered his eyes with a hand as if trying to block out unpleasant images. "I should have studied more for the review of Republic trade routes. There was some obscure question about the planet Naboo, I had no idea what they were taking about. I mean, really, it's some backwater planet that no one ever goes to, who cares about their trade routes?" He sighed.

Qui-Gon thought seriously about correcting the faulty logic behind his Padawan's statement. Many people did care, including all of the residents of said planet, but he knew the young man was simply venting his frustration.

"Are you hungry?" Qui-Gon asked out of reflex, already anticipating the answer.

Obi-Wan simply laughed. "I don't think that's really such a good idea, Master. Maybe in a week or so." The young man heaved himself off the couch. "I'm going to study," he paused. "Unless you need something from me, Master?"

"No, go ahead Obi-Wan, but do try to get some sleep, yes?"

Obi-Wan nodded, though they both knew it was unlikely. Qui-Gon watched as the young man walked into his room and the door slid shut behind him. Qui-Gon regarded the closed door for a moment before shaking his head and walking to his room to store his sketch pad.

He thought for a moment about taking out one of the canvases he had been working on recently, but after looking at the few he had in progress, he found he wasn't struck by any of them. Instead, the Jedi Master decided to catch up on the most recent Council reports and see what new brilliant ideas the venerable Jedi had decided to instate. He picked up his datapad and settled onto the couch in the common room for an evening of reading.

He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until the sound of his Padawan's shout woke him from a dream. Acting purely on instinct, not even entirely awake, Qui-Gon leapt off the couch and ran to Obi-Wan's room. He found the young man sitting at his desk, obviously having just woken from a dream.

"Obi-Wan, are you all right?"

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I'm fine, I just had a bad dream." He drew another breath, running his hand through his short hair. He nodded and met Qui-Gon's eyes. "I'm fine."

Qui-Gon observed him for a moment. "Would you like to talk about it?" he asked slowly. Sometimes Obi-Wan's dreams held a deeper meaning and could often show a possible future event.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "It wasn't anything like that," the young man began, clearly inferring Qui-Gon's meaning. "It was just dream. I was taking the reviews and was failing rather spectacularly." He sighed. "It isn't important."

Qui-Gon walked over to the desk and placed his hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders and began massaging the stiffness out of his muscles. After a few moments when his Padawan was more relaxed, he pulled him up from his chair. "Come on," he directed.

"But, Master I have to study," Obi-Wan said, looking back at his desk with his work spread across its surface.

"You need sleep more."

"But--"

Qui-Gon pushed the younger man to his bed, his tone brooking no argument. "Lay down."

Obi-Wan looked as though he would like to argue more, but instead complied.

Once he was laying on the sleeping couch, Qui-Gon sat next to him. "Everything will be fine, Obi-Wan. You will do well, as you always do on these reviews. You are more than capable of passing this exam, and you do yourself no good by worrying." He looked at the young face and for a moment he saw the little boy he had met years ago who hadn't been able to sleep because of nightmares. Gently he brushed a hand over Obi-Wan's forehead. "Sleep, Padawan," he said softly, the Force backing up his words.

Obi-Wan's eyes grew heavy immediately. "Yes, Master."

***

Obi-Wan sighed in relief as he landed gracefully, his lightsaber still powered. He saluted the judges, flicked the switch to turn it off, and dropped out of his stance. He walked away from the performance mat, grabbing a towel at the sidelines. He was finally done.

At least for another six months.

He walked from the room and headed back to his apartment, unable to stop a smile from spreading across his face. The relief he knew at finally being done with the biannual review was unparalleled. The physical examinations were always last, and the ones that he found the easiest. It wasn't as though one could study for them; he just had to go in and do them. He had to remember to pick up something nice for Bant the next time he and his Master were off planet, though; her help with intergalactic biology had been priceless.

He entered the rooms he shared with Qui-Gon to find his Master standing in the center of the room, their traveling bags in hand. Obi-Wan immediately took them from the older man and fell into step behind him as they walked from the apartment.

"Where are we going, Master?" The years he had spent as Padawan to Qui-Gon had prepared him well for unexpected exits from the Jedi Temple.

"A crisis has arisen on Malinvar, we are needed." Qui-Gon explained shortly as they walked through the halls. The tone of his voice told Obi-Wan that his Master did not approve of their intervention. He waited, knowing his Master would tell him his thoughts when he was ready.

"We are to protect the royal family from an uprising of the people. In all truth, the people should be allowed to revolt; the governing there is deplorable. However, Malinvar is an extremely important member of the Senate." He did not have to expand any further for Obi-Wan to understand why he was upset. Still, there was no emotion, there was only the Force.

"Do we at least have a decent transport?" Obi-Wan asked cautiously, and not a little hopefully.

Qui-Gon cast him a sidelong glance, the humor apparent in his eyes. "What do you think, my young apprentice?"

"Oh." They rounded the corner to the hanger bay and the only ship waiting there seemed nearly ready to fall apart. Obi-Wan could not help but stare at it in fascination that it did not crumble to the ground before their eyes.

"What exactly did you say to the Council when they told you about this mission?" Obi-Wan asked with no little accusation in his voice. He could only imagine the indignant outrage of his Master.

"Are you suggesting the Council would be so petty as to purposely give us less than exemplary vessel?" Qui-Gon asked in mock surprise.

"Well," Obi-Wan paused as if he was thinking. "Yes."

"Enough, let's board."

"Yes, Master."

***

Qui-Gon held back a yawn as he finally settled the controls of the ship to auto-pilot. They still had another twelve hours before they reached the planet and it had taken them the last four to ensure the ship was stable enough to be trusted on auto-pilot. It had been a long day and all he wanted was to sleep. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, was a curious combination of exhausted hyperactivity.

"Obi-Wan?" he asked softly.

The young man jumped imperceptibly. "Yes?"

"I think it would be best if we both got some sleep," he suggested, standing.

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. "Okay." He sat for a moment longer before standing as well, following Qui-Gon to the back of the ship toward the sleeping compartment.

Qui-Gon opened the door and stared in dismay at the single bed. Obi-Wan looked around him and sighed.

"Typical," he said unhappily.

"It isn't the worst sleeping accommodations we have ever been given. Or not been given, as has been the case."

Obi-Wan sighed again heavily. "You snore."

Qui-Gon looked at the young man in surprise. "Yes, and you are the modicum of a perfect sleeper. Even when you were little you took up more room than should be humanly possible."

"You steal covers."

"You talk in your sleep."

"That's probably because you never listen to me any other time," Obi-Wan said loftily, a smile lighting his face.

Qui-Gon shook his head. "Just get in, Obi-Wan."

Once they were both settled as best they could in the small quarters, Qui-Gon could feel the pull of sleep even more strongly. Unfortunately, his Padawan seemed to be more awake. After the younger man had shifted for the tenth time, he spoke.

"Obi-Wan, please."

"Sorry. I guess I am just overtired." He stifled a yawn. Qui-Gon could practically see the smile on Obi-Wan's face. "I might be able to sleep if--"

"No."

"But--"

"No."

"I really think it would help."

"What part of 'no' are you having a hard time with, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan was silent for a long moment and Qui-Gon was almost asleep when he spoke again.

"Why is it that I always end up next to the wall?"

"I wouldn't want you to fall out on your head."

"I'm not four years old anymore, Master."

"I know, Obi-Wan." He was silent for a moment, suddenly wondering where the little boy had gone. "I know."

Obi-Wan shifted once more before settling. "I think I did well on my last examination for the review," he said quietly.

"I knew you would." In the darkness he smiled at the man the boy had become, inexplicably proud of his Padawan. "Go to sleep, Obi-Wan."

"Yes, Master."