“You’ll never catch me! I’m a Jedi Knight!”

The yell sounded from Obi-Wan’s room, followed by the loud thump of feet hitting the floor.

“Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon shouted.

“What?”

“What are you doing?”

A pause ensued, and Qui-Gon forced himself not to smile as Obi-Wan yelled back, “Nothing!”

“You’d better not be jumping off the bed again.”

“Okay!”

“I’m serious!”

“I know, Master!”

Qui-Gon sighed. He knew that his Padawan wanted to play, but Adi Gallia had contacted him that morning to ask him to go over some of the recent reports from Telaxio. “Obi-Wan, can you come out here for a moment?” he called back to the boy’s room.

Obi-Wan scampered down the hall, skidding on the carpet and sliding to a halt in front of the couch where Qui-Gon sat. “Yes?”

“You’re going to ruin your pants if you keep doing that.”

“I know, but I didn’t want Jes to catch me.” Obi-Wan turned around, and grinned as the small kitten trotted dutifully towards him, rubbing the length of her body against his side. He leaned close to her, speaking softly. “You caught me, you silly cat.” Obi-Wan flung his arms out and he sprawled on the floor, kicking his legs out for added effect. “Ugh, now I’m dead.” He lolled his tongue out of the side of his mouth, closing his eyes.

Qui-Gon turned his gaze back to the pile of datasheets beside him and the datareader in his lap. “Do you think maybe you could be a little less dead when Master Adi gets here?”

Obi-Wan frowned. “Why is she coming here? I thought we were going to play.”

“We will play, I promise. But not right now, because I need to help Master Adi this afternoon.” He looked down at the boy, who still lay on the floor. “I have to do some Master things today. But we’re going to have dinner together later, and we’re going to have fun, okay?”

Snorting, Obi-Wan rolled over on his stomach, his chin in his hands as Jes curled up on his back. “You always have to do Master stuff.”

Qui-Gon stood, stooping down to muss his Padawan’s hair. “You know that’s not true, Little One. We just went to the park last week, remember? And you know that I would much rather spend the afternoon with you than work on Master stuff.”

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan grumbled, taking a deep breath.

“Just let me help Adi out for a bit, all right?”

“Yes, Master.”

The door chime sounded, and Qui-Gon nudged the boy gently with his toe. “You want to go let her in?” He smiled down at him, offering him a hand. “You can introduce her to Jes.”

Obi-Wan brightened, and he scooped the kitten into his arms as he scrambled to his feet. “Okay.” He ran over to the door and pressed the entry switch, bouncing on his toes.

“Hi there, Obi-Wan. It’s good to see you again,” Adi greeted him warmly, and Obi-Wan held Jes aloft.

“This is our cat. Her name is Jes. I named her.”

Adi petted the kitten’s head gently, and then turned to Qui-Gon. “A cat, I see.”

Qui-Gon shrugged, offering her a seat with a wave of his hand. “Pets are good for teaching responsibility.”

Smiling, Adi sat across from him, dropping a large file of datasheets and disks on the table. “So who fed Jes this morning?”

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes. “That’s beside the point. The cat food is up high; he couldn’t reach it.”

Suddenly, Obi-Wan gasped, and Qui-Gon felt a sudden catch in his stomach. Even though the boy had been seeing others to help with his visions, he still worried about Obi-Wan from time to time. “What’s wrong?”

Obi-Wan’s expression changed from surprise to delight, and he smiled at Qui-Gon. “Slade!”

“What about Slade?”

Dashing over to the wallcom unit, he started punching in the code for his friend’s apartment. “He’s home!”

Momentarily confused, Qui-Gon opened his mouth, but then he realized what had occurred. “How do you know?”

Obi-Wan shrugged, waiting for an answer on the other end. “I don’t know. I just do.” A voice answered, and the boy grinned widely. “Slade! It’s Obi-Wan! Can I come over?”

“Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon looked at Adi, who watched him with a bemused expression. “You’re supposed to ask me first, remember?”

“Oh yeah. Master, can I go over to Slade’s?”

Qui-Gon waved a hand at him. “If it’s okay with Slade’s master, you can go. Just be back in time for dinner, okay?”

The boys conferred for a moment longer, and then Obi-Wan switched off the unit, jumping up to hit the receiver. “I’m going over to Slade’s now!”

Finding his seat, Qui-Gon sighed inwardly. It would be a relief to have Slade back; the other boy had been gone for nearly a week as he and his new master were on their bonding mission. He loved spending time with his Padawan, but he knew the boy needed to spend time with other children. “Be good.”

“Bye Master, bye Master Adi, bye Jes!” Obi-Wan walked out the door, leaving Qui-Gon and Adi in a rush of quiet.

“So who’s Slade?” Adi asked, reaching down to pet Jes, who had wound herself around Adi’s ankles.

Qui-Gon chuckled, scratching his forehead. “Think Bel-San at age eight, except with a tail and an attitude. He just got taken as a Padawan.”

“Sounds like a good match for Obi-Wan,” Adi laughed. “He really seems to be doing well, Qui-Gon. You’re doing a marvelous job.”

“Well, it’s been an interesting few months, that’s for sure.”

“You don’t regret taking him at all, do you?”

Startled, Qui-Gon shook his head. “Why do you ask?”

Adi folded her hands in her lap. “I suppose I was just placing myself in your shoes for a moment, and wondering how you felt about all this.”

Biting his lip for a moment, Qui-Gon spoke. “I haven’t been sure about many things in my life in the last few years, but this is one thing I’m certain about. Obi-Wan was like. . . he’s like a gift that I never deserved but received anyway.”

“That’s really good to hear,” Adi said softly. “After everything you had to go through to get him. . .” She looked away for a moment, and then returned her gaze. “I was really close to taking a Padawan myself not too long ago.”

“Really?” Qui-Gon was surprised; he knew that Adi, like Mace, was one of the Council’s assistants, and could be placed on the Council at any time in the near future. Mace had decided a while ago not to take another Padawan so he could focus on the Council, and Qui-Gon had assumed the same would be true of Adi. “What happened?”

Adi shrugged. “I was on my way to the Council to make my announcement, and then, I just knew. I knew it wasn’t right for me. The Force spoke to me as clearly as a voice in my ear; I wasn’t supposed to take the child. So I didn’t.”

“Are you disappointed?” Qui-Gon asked gently.

“Maybe a little. Seeing you and Obi-Wan together made me wonder for a moment...what would it have been like?”

“Well, if my very limited experience counts for anything, I would say you did the right thing. Finding the right Padawan...it can take a long time. And even when you think you’re right, sometimes you’re not.” He swallowed, pausing. “But, believe me, if the Force is pushing you in that direction, it tends to be pretty adamant on the subject. At least it was for me.”

Adi nodded, a slight smile on her face. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

***

The slide door opened, and Obi-Wan grinned as Slade stood in the open doorway. “Hey! Come in and check out the new place!”

Following closely behind his friend, Obi-Wan stepped inside and marveled at the spacious apartment Slade and his master shared. Although its design was similar to his Master’s apartment, the layout was a little different, and the furniture seemed to be brand new. “This is great!” Obi-Wan turned around, getting a feel for the place. “Um, where’s your master?”

Slade shrugged slightly. “I think he’s in his room. We just got back a little while ago; I think he went in there to talk.”

“To who?”

Slade leaned forward conspiratorially. “I think he has”--Slade’s voice dropped to a whisper--”a girlfriend.”

Obi-Wan looked up in surprise. “Are you sure?”

Flicking his tail, Slade crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, I don’t know for sure, but I saw him with a lady right before we left on our mission.” Slade gagged. “I think they were kissing.”

“Oh, no way!” Obi-Wan’s expression matched Slade’s, and the two of them looked at each other in disgust. “That’s gross.”

The slide door to the bedroom behind them opened, and Obi-Wan watched as a young Jedi Knight walked into the common room. His disheveled black hair stuck up around his ears, and he sighed as he spoke into a comlink.

“No, I know. I got it. Okay. Look, I understand. I know you’re upset. It’s okay.” He paused, scratching the stubble on his pointed chin. “All right. Talk to you later.”

Slade whispered to Obi-Wan, “See? It’s her. I know it.”

His master turned off the comlink he held, and slipped it in his pocket as he turned towards them. “So, Slade, I guess this must be Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan looked up, suddenly slightly nervous. He hoped Slade’s master would like him. “Hello,” he said quietly.

“I’m Knight Rian. Nice to meet you, Obi-Wan. Slade talked about you a lot during our mission.”

Obi-Wan nodded at Knight Rian, “Nice to meet you.”

“So I suppose you guys have some catching up to do.” Knight Rian looked at Slade, and Obi-Wan watched them curiously. He hadn’t seen many other Master/Padawan pairs before, and he couldn’t help observing them.

“We’re going to go play, Master, if that’s okay,” Slade said.

Knight Rian walked over to the couch. “Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” He sprawled over the cushions, kicking his feet out over the arm. “Just be quiet. I want to take a nap.”

Nodding, Slade motioned to Obi-Wan and he followed him down the hall to his friend’s new room. They stepped inside, and Obi-Wan stopped short.

“Where’s all your stuff?” The room was bare, save for an unmade sleepcouch, a desk and chair, and some clothes hanging in the wardrobe.

Slade pointed to the corner. “In the boxes. I didn’t unpack yet.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan wandered over to the one of the open boxes, picking up a model of a Nubian starship that lay on top. “So how do you like being a Padawan?”

“It’s pretty much the same as being in the Creche, except I get my own room, and my Master doesn’t have other kids,” Slade said, smiling.

“Is Master Rian nice? Does he talk to you a lot?”

Slade shrugged. “I guess. We talked some on the mission. He just got knighted this year, so he’s never been a master before. But he thinks I’ll be good with my lightsaber. He started teaching me the next set of katas this week.”

Obi-Wan sighed, putting the starship down. “You’re lucky. Your master lets you use your lightsaber.” He had asked his Master many times about making his, but he always said no. It wasn’t fair; he knew he could do it. He already knew what color he wanted it to be. But his Master never let him.

Slade walked over to the desk, pulling out the silver handle of his lightsaber. He turned it over in his hands as he spoke. “You don’t even have a lightsaber yet.”

“Well, I will soon.”

“My Master even let me practice with it. He said that I’m better than some of the kids in the upper levels, and that was why he took me as a Padawan.”

Obi-Wan frowned for a moment. He didn’t know that’s why a Padawan was chosen. His Master had never said anything like that before. “But, um, don’t masters take padawans because they make a good match? Isn’t that how it works?”

“Master Rian said he took me because I was a good fighter.” Slade looked at Obi-Wan for a moment. “Then why did your master take you? You don’t even fight yet.”

“Because...” Obi-Wan stopped, unsure what to say. He knew he and his Master had a bond, formed even before they became Master and Padawan. But why had his Master taken him? Did he want him to be a good fighter too? He wondered if that was why they’d started learning katas together. “Because, um, he thinks I’m good with the Force.”

“But all Jedi are good with the Force.”

Obi-Wan bit his lip. “I don’t know. Maybe he thought I’d be a good fighter too.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it.” Slade backed up several steps. “Stay there. Check this out.”

Obi-Wan stood several spans away from his friend, and Slade flicked on the power to his lightsaber, igniting the purple blade in a surge of energy. “That’s so cool,” Obi-Wan whispered, watching the streams of light dance throughout the blade.

“See? Watch.” Slade brought the lightsaber up, holding it firmly with one hand. Lifting the hilt to eye level, he brought the blade down around his body, swooping it up on the left side and right side, forming a continuous loop of color.

“Master Rian taught me that,” Slade said, switching off the ‘saber. “It’s a fighting move they teach to the upper level classes, but he said I was ready to learn it.”

Obi-Wan stared at the hilt in Slade’s hands. “It’s so amazing.” Suddenly, he had an idea. “Slade, can you teach it to me?”

“What, that move?”

“Yes! Teach it to me, and then my Master will be so impressed when we do katas again. He needs to see I’m going to be a good fighter, and then I’ll be allowed to make my lightsaber!” Obi-Wan looked up at his friend’s scaled face. “Please?”

Slade sighed, resting his gaze on his hands. “All right. But we’ll have to be careful, because I don’t have a practice ‘saber.”

“That’s okay. I’m tired of practice ‘sabers. I want to use a real one.”

Slade handed him the heavy silver hilt, and Obi-Wan smiled, lifting it with both hands. “I can’t wait till I have my own.”

Pushing Obi-Wan’s arms into place, Slade studied him carefully. “I think you need to bring your arm up higher. Something doesn’t look right. Maybe you’re too little to do this.”

“I’m not too little! You’re not much taller than me,” Obi-Wan grumbled, holding the hilt higher. “How’s that?”

“It looks a little better. Okay.” Slade took a breath, walking around Obi-Wan to get a different perspective. “Now you need to drop your wrists forward, and bring it up and around on the left side, then the right.”

Obi-Wan bit his lip, concentrating. “Like this?” He mimicked the action he’d seen Slade do, trying to keep the heavy hilt steady.

“Yeah, you’re getting it. But you’re holding it too tightly, you need to loosen your grip.” Slade took a step back. “Try it again.”

“Okay.” Obi-Wan relaxed his hands, bringing the ‘saber hilt up for another pass. As he lifted it to eye level, he felt a thrill pass through him. He could already picture himself holding his very own lightsaber, his Master’s smile as he learned the katas. . .

The hilt started to slip through his fingers, and he snatched hold of it, changing his grip. Still performing the move, a button clicked into place under his palm. The familiar sound of the lightsaber igniting rang in his ears, and he gasped in shock as the purple blade scraped down the length of his shoulder and left arm.

“Turn it off! Turn it off!” Slade shouted, holding his arms up defensively.

Shaking, Obi-Wan dropped the ‘saber, clutching his arm. Waves of scalding pain rocketed across his flesh, and he gulped back a sob.

Slade picked up the fallen lightsaber, flicking it off. “Are you all right?”

Falling to his knees, Obi-Wan fought back the desire to allow panic to set in. “I...don’t know,” he murmured, squeezing his eyes shut. Suddenly, his Master’s voice spoke clearly in his mind.

:Obi-Wan, what happened?:

Swallowing quickly, Obi-Wan tried to calm himself. He didn’t want his Master to know about his injury. :I...I...fell.:

:Are you okay?:

:I’ll be all right.: He hoped that wasn’t a lie too.

:Is Slade’s master there?:

:He’s here.:

He felt a slight wave of relief pass through their bond. :I just wanted to check. If you need me, just contact me, okay?:

:Okay, Master.: His Master’s presence withdrew from his mind, and his awareness of the pain returned. “Slade?”

“What just happened? You faded out there for a second.” Slade’s face was tight with concern.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, drawing a shuddering breath. “My Master. He was speaking to me through our bond. I guess he knew I got hurt, but he didn’t know how.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I fell.”

Slade sighed in relief. “That’s good. We’d both get in trouble.” He took a step towards Obi-Wan, peering down at his arm. “Let me see. Maybe it’s not too bad.”

Obi-Wan watched his friend’s face as he drew back his hand from his wounded arm. Wincing, Slade gritted his teeth. “Is it that bad?” Obi-Wan asked, fearful to look.

“It’s. . .not great. Your sleeve is practically gone. And your arm is really. . .red.” Slade looked down at him, his mouth set in a grim line. “Does it hurt?”

Obi-Wan made an attempt to move his arm, and a fiery shot of pain coursed through him. Gasping, he shook his head. “A lot.”

“Maybe we should tell my Master,” Slade said uneasily, looking towards the door.

“No, I don’t want to get you in trouble.” Obi-Wan blinked quickly. “I’ll be okay.”

“I think you’d better tell your Master then. That burn looks really bad.” Slade held out a hand to help Obi-Wan to his feet. “I think maybe you should go home.”

Obi-Wan accepted the hand with his good arm, trying not to fall as the room spun slightly. “I need to borrow one of your tunics. If my Master sees. . .he’ll know.”

Sighing, Slade walked over to his wardrobe. “I really think you should tell your Master. I don’t care if we get in trouble.”

“It’ll be okay. Don’t worry.” Obi-Wan gingerly started to remove his burned tunic, then let out a slight cry as the fabric passed over his blistered skin.

“You’re not going to be able to hide this for long,” Slade said, handing him a fresh tunic.

Obi-Wan fought back a wave of nausea, steadying himself. “I’m going to try.”

***

Jes mewed pitifully, and Qui-Gon chuckled, setting down the kitten’s food dish. “You’re a regular pain, you know that?”

The kitten dove nosefirst into her meal, making contented sounds as she chewed. “I hope Obi-Wan gets back soon. Dinner’s been done for awhile.” Qui-Gon felt a slight nudge through their bond, and he smiled slightly. The apartment had been far too quiet in the hours his Padawan had been absent.

The door opened, and he called out, “I’m in here. Dinner’s ready.”

Obi-Wan made his way slowly to the kitchen, and stood in the doorway. “I’m, um, not hungry,” he said quietly.

“It’s almost six-thirty.” He frowned for a moment. “You weren’t eating snacks over at Slade’s, were you?”

“No, um, I ate there. His master made dinner.”

“Oh.” Qui-Gon looked intently at the boy, dimly aware of something amiss through his senses. “Are you sure you’re all right? It felt like you took a nasty fall. I was worried.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “I’m okay.”

“You got enough to eat at Slade’s?”

“Yeah.”

Qui-Gon sighed. “Okay.” He sat down at the table with his plate in front of him. “You’re welcome to sit with me if you want. You can tell me all about Slade’s new master.”

Obi-Wan waited for a moment, but he finally sat stiffly in the chair across from Qui-Gon. “He’s nice, I guess.”

“What’s his name?”

“Knight Rian. He’s never been a Master before.”

Jes leapt up from the floor onto the table, and Qui-Gon gestured his fork at her, shooing her away. “Jes! Not on the table. Get down.”

She veered out of his path, moving quickly across the tabletop to jump on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“No!” Obi-Wan cried out, pushing the kitten off. Jes flinched, racing across the kitchen floor and around the corner.

“What was that about?” Qui-Gon set down his fork, slightly confused. Jes often draped herself across the boy’s shoulders and Obi-Wan had never minded before.

“Nothing.” Obi-Wan took a deep breath, holding his arm.

Qui-Gon sat back for a moment, then sighed. He knew what had happened. “I told you this morning, remember? I told you you were going to get hurt.”

Obi-Wan dropped his chin to his chest. “I know, Master.”

“It’s not safe to go jumping on beds like that.”

The boy looked up at him suddenly, a confused expression on his face. “Beds?”

Qui-Gon stood, moving to where Obi-Wan sat. “Let me see your arm. Let’s just hope you didn’t break anything.”

“No, Master, wait. . .”

As his fingers came in contact with Obi-Wan’s arm, his senses tingled with the aftershocks of the wound. Drawing in a quick breath, he realized what had injured his Padawan so painfully.

Pulling his hand away, he dropped to his knees, looking Obi-Wan in the eyes. “Who did this to you?”

Obi-Wan swallowed. “I did,” he whispered.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, reigning back the emotions that flooded his mind. He kept his voice quiet and firm. “What happened?”

“I...Slade...he let me borrow his...lightsaber and he was showing me how to do this move...I was just using the handle...but it slipped and I accidentally turned it on.” Obi-Wan’s voice broke. “I burned myself. I didn’t mean to.”

“Oh, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said softly, releasing his fears as best he could to the Force. It could have been much worse. “Is Slade all right?”

“Yes.”

“Let me see.”

“It’s not that bad, Master,” he mumbled, looking away.

“We’ll see.” He helped the boy remove his tunic, being careful to avoid scraping the skin on his arm. Qui-Gon looked down at the wound, and stifled a gasp. It wasn’t the worst he’d ever seen, but to see such a severe burn on such a young child made his stomach turn.

“Do you understand.” He paused to take a breath, not allowing anger to take over. “That you could have killed yourself today? Or Slade? What were you thinking?”

Obi-Wan nodded miserably. “I know, Master, I. . .”

“No, I don’t think you do. We have been over this a dozen times, Obi-Wan. This is why you don’t have a lightsaber yet! You’re not ready!” Qui-Gon steadied his voice, his hands clenched in fists.

“Where was Slade’s master?”

“He was there but--”

“Did you lie to him too?”

“He didn’t know--”

“You could have died! This is what happened when you slipped!” He pointed at the long, blistered strip down Obi-Wan’s arm. “What if you really slipped and sliced off your arm? Or stabbed yourself?”

“I wouldn’t have done that!” Obi-Wan cried, shivering.

“But you might have! You don’t have control over a lightsaber yet. This is why Slade is not your Master and I am!”

“He was just showing me a move,” Obi-Wan said bitterly, turning away.

“And look what happened! Not only did you disobey me, you lied to me.” Qui-Gon shook his head, surprised at the feelings of betrayal that crept up in his mind. “You should have told me what happened immediately.”

“But I didn’t want you to get upset,” the boy said softly.

“Obi-Wan, I’m your Master! If you get hurt, I need to know.” He sighed, resting a hand on the boy’s knee. “Our bond depends on you and I being honest with each other. That’s what being Master and Padawan is all about.”

“But Slade...he said that his master took him because he was a good fighter. I’m not a good fighter. I can’t fight at all.” Obi-Wan dropped his gaze, sniffing. “Why did you take me then?”

Qui-Gon felt the waves of fear and pain stemming from the small boy beside him, and he forced himself to calm down. Shouting would do him no good. “First of all, you are going to learn the lightsaber just fine when you’re ready. When you’re ready,” he emphasized. Sending the boy a surge of comfort through their bond, he waited until Obi-Wan made eye contact with him. “But most importantly, I didn’t take you as my Padawan because you were going to be a great fighter.”

Blinking back tears, Obi-Wan wiped at his face with the back of his right hand. “Then why did you?”

“Because I knew, beyond all doubt, that I was supposed to be your Master. Because I knew I could teach you. Because you would teach me.” He squeezed the boy’s knee. “And because I wanted to be the one who watched you grow up, and to be there with you every day until you became a Jedi Knight.”

Obi-Wan sniffed again, shivering. “Oh.”

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Obi-Wan nodded, biting his lip.

He held out his hand, standing to his feet. “Come on. We’re going to fix you up.”

Obi-Wan took his hand tentatively. “We’re not going to the Infirmary, are we?”

“No, I think we can take care of this ourselves. Follow me.”

He sat the boy down in the refresher, inspecting the wound. “It’s a good thing for you Slade had his lightsaber on the lowest setting.”

Obi-Wan winced at his touch. “That’s the lowest setting?”

“My point exactly.” He opened one of the cabinets, pulling out several small packets of bacta gel.

“Is this going to hurt?” Obi-Wan drew back slightly, hugging his knees with his good arm.

“Not if you relax for a second and hold still.” Qui-Gon rested his hand on the boy’s forehead, using the Force to dull Obi-Wan’s pain receptors. With what limited healing power he possessed, he sent a wave of directed healing Force to the burn. “You doing all right?”

Obi-Wan opened one eye, taking a breath. “I think so.”

Qui-Gon spread the bacta gel carefully on the burns, applying the clear medicine gently and quickly to avoid hurting the boy. “It’s going to take a few days for it to heal completely, but you’re going to be all right.”

“Are you sure?” Obi-Wan didn’t seem to want to hear the answer.

Allowing himself a small smile, he rinsed the excess bacta off his hands and dried them. “Believe me, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen a ‘saber burn. You can trust me on this one.”

“Why? Did you get burned before too?”

“It’s happened. Once or twice.” Qui-Gon knew his sarcasm was lost on the boy; he had lost count of the times he’d felt the sharp sting of a ‘saber blade over the years.

“Master. . .I’m really sorry. About the lightsaber. And for lying to you.” Obi-Wan’s guileless blue eyes conveyed his apology.

Qui-Gon nodded, wrapping the boy’s slender arm in a clean dressing. “I know. I forgive you. I just want you to understand why what happened today was very serious.”

“I shouldn’t have used Slade’s lightsaber. It was too big for me,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “That’s why I started to drop it. I couldn’t hold it right.”

“When you make yours, it will be perfect for you. And we’ll work together, just like we do with the katas. That’s why you need to be patient, and wait until I say you’re ready.”

Obi-Wan breathed a quiet sigh. “I know. I should have told you what happened when you talked to me. But I was scared. I knew you’d be mad.”

“Do I look like I’m mad now?”

The boy shook his head, eyes slightly wide.

“Little One, you can always tell me the truth. No matter what. Even if it’s going to make me upset, I’d much rather you be honest. That’s the most important thing.”

“Even if I might get in trouble?”

“Especially if you might get in trouble. Because I’ll always be less mad if you tell me the truth right away.”

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. “But I’m still in trouble, right?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“I thought so.”

Securing the bandage, Qui-Gon inspected his handiwork. “How does that feel?”

“Okay.” He read the boy’s signature through their bond, and he no longer sensed any pain from his Padawan.

“I think it would be a good idea for you to get some rest tonight, to allow your body some time to heal.” He reached down, gathering the child gently into his arms. “Come on.”

Obi-Wan held on to Qui-Gon’s shoulder. “Master, if you’re not too mad, could you stay and talk with me?”

“I think I could arrange that.”

“And then you might even tell me a story?”

Qui-Gon sighed, smoothing a hand over the boy’s head. “You are incorrigible.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you remind me of myself more often than I’d like to admit.”

“So does that mean you’ll tell me a story?”

“Only if you promise to get some rest. I want you to get better as quickly as possible.”

Obi-Wan’s grip tightened, and he rested his head against Qui-Gon’s chest. “Thank you for fixing my arm. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad it doesn’t hurt.” Qui-Gon shook his head, amazed at how quickly the boy moved back into his good graces. He should really be a diplomat someday, Qui-Gon mused. “Let’s just not make a habit of this, promise?”

“I promise.”