Standing on the balcony outside the star map room always held a certain amount of excitement for Qui-Gon. He remembered when, as a young initiate, the railings had seemed much too flimsy to protect a stargazer from falling off and tumbling down to the lowest levels of the city planet. It was a few years before he realized that the invisible, magnetic field around the balcony would have prevented a curious initiate not only from falling, but also from leaning past the guardrail. Tonight, as a harsh wind whipped around the spires of the Jedi Temple, Qui-Gon kept one hand clenched on the rail as if he had never discovered the presence of the safety field. The other hand clasped his robe tightly to his body to ward off the cold. There would be rain, possibly ice, on Coruscant tomorrow. After one more breath of the deliciously cold air and one more glance at the still clear sky, Qui-Gon turned from the balcony and started to walk back towards the inside of the Temple.

He had not spent much time at the starmap room lately, although it had been one of his favorite places to visit as a padawan. He had not, in fact, spent much time in the Temple itself these past few years. But the presence of a new padawan in his life was working to change much of that. Not that he minded the shift in his lifestyle. The constant press of duty had kept Qui-Gon occupied when he needed to be, but even the trepidation he felt when considering taking on another apprentice had faded with time. Half a decade spent serving the Senate and Jedi Order had helped Qui-Gon purge the dark from his soul after Xanatos's betrayal. When Qui-Gon had returned to the temple nearly half a year ago, agreed to watch the initiates' competitions, and saw Obi-Wan among the crowd of students eager to find a master, he knew he had come home for more than a visit. Qui-Gon's hands had itched to place a saber in the boy's grip, demonstrate for him the more difficult katas and then see his apprentice perform them himself. So, for one last time, Qui-Gon had examined his insecurities and saw the hope of the future instead of the despair of the past. The boy would be his padawan whether he was prepared or not. Qui-Gon waited the few months until Obi-Wan's thirteenth birthday, taking him on as padawan when both he and Obi-Wan were ready for the change. The past four weeks had been the busiest, longest and quite possibly the best time Qui-Gon had spent at the Jedi Temple since his own days as padawan.

The sound of bright laughter and talking jarred Qui-Gon from his memories. He looked up to see a group of padawans exiting one of the observation rooms � the one that opened to the night sky and offered a unique view of the galaxy surrounding Coruscant. This was the reason he had been lingering outside the starmap room. Obi-Wan had had class there this evening. It was an extra class, part of his astronomy module, and had extended his day a few more hours beyond normal class time. Qui-Gon guessed his padawan would be hungry and planned on taking Obi-Wan to dinner. Besides, he had not seen the boy since breakfast and that had only been for a few rushed minutes. Qui-Gon watched as the students passed by, searching for Obi-Wan in the steady line of chattering padawans. His padawan finally appeared, clutching a datapad and rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon called. He smiled when his apprentice greeted him with an open, happy grin before shyness made Obi-Wan duck his head. "Did you have a good class, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan nodded. He rubbed his eyes once more then wiped them on the sleeve of his tunic. "Yes, Master. I like being able to see the planets, not just hear about them. Did you know you can see most of the core worlds with the telescope they have? You can even see some of them without the telescope."

"You can tell me all about them over dinner, Obi-Wan. I hope you're hungry."

"Yes, Master." He led Qui-Gon to the lift. "Our quarters or the cafeteria?"

"Cafeteria, if you don't have any objections."

Obi-Wan punched in the correct floor and wing code for the cafeteria. Looking as if her were about to answer Qui-Gon, he stepped into the lift. Obi-Wan, instead of speaking, however, wiped his nose in his sleeve and hesitated. Closing his eyes, he kept the sleeve to his face and turned from Qui-Gon. "huh-CH!!" He sneezed once, almost silently, and mumbled an embarrassed apology to Qui-Gon.

"Bless you." He thought about asking whether the observation deck had been too cold for Obi-Wan, but decided against it. The boy already looked put out enough that he had sneezed once. Such a small, quiet sneeze, too. Qui-Gon squeezed Obi-Wan's shoulder and stood behind him in the lift. The wind had probably stung his eyes and nose a little too sharply. "Is the dining hall all right for dinner? I didn't have time to cook."

"Sure. I think they have krin berry pudding, too." The pink that tinged Obi-Wan's ears had faded, the effects of the cold and embarrassment dissolving. He sniffled softly a few times. "At least, I hope they do."

"You like that?"

"As long as it doesn't have too much spice in it. That makes my tongue itch," Obi-Wan said with disgust.

Qui-Gon made a mental note to check into that. Beyond regular exams, immunizations and any other important health issues, Qui-Gon had not read through Obi-Wan's medical records in full. Either he was sensitive or had a few allergies of which Qui-Gon ought to be aware. There was so much about his padawan he still had to learn, not just favorite foods or what classes he enjoyed the most. Ruffling Obi-Wan's short hair, he laughed to himself as the boy gave him a skeptical look.

"It does. Terribly. And you can't scratch it, either."

"Well, we can't have that. How will I learn about the core worlds from you if you're thus incapacitated?" Qui-Gon asked and held the door open for Obi-Wan as they exited the lift.

Obi-Wan looked at him again, with more wonder than skepticism in his eyes this time. "Are you quite sure, Master? I don't know all that much yet."

"Nonsense. There's quite a bit you're able to teach me, my Obi-Wan, and I look forward to learning all of it." Qui-Gon slid his cred chip into the server droid as they entered the cafeteria and put his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Two please, full dinner, and no spice in the pudding."

The enthusiasm Obi-Wan demonstrated for astronomy kept the conversation going for most of dinner. Qui-Gon had been right; there was a lot Obi-Wan could teach him, even if much of it was not about the workings of the inner core worlds. His padawan was still subject to bouts of shyness, even around his master. He tended to keep things to himself and the strength of their bond was not developed enough for Qui-Gon to be able to tell exactly what his padawan was feeling. But when he let Obi-Wan lead the conversation, Qui-Gon got glimpses of the power and confidence his padawan was capable of. The boy would make a superb knight someday.

One thing, though, kept nagging at Qui-Gon. Every so often Obi-Wan would rub his nose into his sleeve, or cough lightly after sniffing. It was not much, not even enough to constitute a slight case of the sniffles, but all the same it had Qui-Gon frowning to himself. The one time he had asked Obi-Wan if he felt all right, he only received a dismissive shrug as a response. He had assured Qui-Gon that nothing was wrong and Obi-Wan certainly had a healthy enough appetite. The meal, down to the mild krin berry pudding, disappeared over the course of their conversation. Obi-Wan had a sated, tired expression on his face as he drained down the last of his tea.

"So, Alderaan is your choice of planet so far?" Qui-Gon asked. He folded his napkin over his plate.

"I think so. It sounds nice. Peaceful." He was rubbing his nose again, forehead creasing with frustration. A sneeze looked as if it was about to overcome him, but Obi-Wan pinched his nostrils shut. His head bobbed forward the tiniest bit and his eyes blinked shut � the only indications that he could not prevent the sneeze altogether. "Sorry."

"Obi-Wan, you can sneeze in front of me, it is allowed." Qui-Gon smiled gently, reaching out to touch Obi-Wan's arm, but did not press the issue. It would take more than a few reassuring comments and touches for Obi-Wan to get over his shyness. "Perhaps we should finish our conversation at home. Are you about ready to go?"

Obi-Wan glanced down at his dish, then up at Qui-Gon. Dark circles were starting to form beneath his eyes, making the rest of his skin look paler than usual. The poor boy was tired, probably had caught a sniffle in the cold night air, and was apparently taking his position as padawan too seriously to tell his master he had an itchy nose. A good night's rest and some bond time should take care of that, Qui-Gon thought and stood up from the table. Placing his hand between Obi-Wan's shoulder blades, he guided his apprentice from the table.

"Personally, I've always wanted to visit Tatooine. I usually seem to get the survival missions to the Hoth system, though."

Obi-Wan shuddered under his touch, but laughed all the same. "I hope I never see either, Master."

= = = = = = = = = =

Skin still warm and pink from his shower, Obi-Wan scrambled into his sleep clothes. He could feel a shiver pass through his body when his feet hit the cold tile floor of the 'fresher and he wanted to stay as warm as possible. The few hours on the observation platform had chilled Obi-Wan inside to the point that he could not remember when he had been warm last. He assumed he had been comfortable when he was in bed last night, but even when he woke up something had felt wrong. The vague sensation had transformed into an ache in his head and an itch between his ears and throat. When the astronomy class had ended, the feeling included a runny, itchy nose and watery eyes. The wind had made his eyes and nose smart, but he thought it would go away once he got inside. Unfortunately, it remained, and he was certain his master had noticed. Obi-Wan had sneezed in front of him � awful, urgent, tickly sensations he could not hold back throughout dinner.

With a yawn, Obi-Wan scrubbed a towel through his damp hair once more. He could not possibly be getting sick. Not after all those lessons on self-healing, prevention of infection and maintaining good health. Not after he had finally moved from initiate to padawan status. Not this week, when his master would be filling out the first evaluation forms for his new padawan. Not �

"ISHH!" Obi-Wan sneezed loudly into the towel he held before his face. The sudden strength of the action caught him off balance for a moment. Stumbling backward, Obi-Wan lowered the towel. All the sneezes he held back throughout the evening felt like they had come out in the one explosive, wet sneeze. Dizzily he replaced the towel with a few tissues and crept toward the 'fresher door. He could not hear his master outside and no blessing had carried from Qui-Gon's room. Perhaps he had not heard the sneeze; perhaps the noise was only overly loud in the small space of the 'fresher. Not taking any chances, he covered his nose and mouth with the tissues and got ready for another sneeze.

"HuhChff! Chmphh! Umpf!choo� ehh� EhpTshh!" It hurt, but stifling the sneezes had kept them quiet. Muffling a few sniffles into his tissues, Obi-Wan again listened for evidence that his master knew what was going on in the 'fresher. Still no sound from Qui-Gon. Relieved he pitched the tissues into the trash, stuffed the towel he had sneezed all over into the laundry, and looked at himself in the mirror.

He decided he did not look sick. A little tired, and his nose was pink around the nostrils, but that would go away. Obi-Wan dabbed at his nose with a dry tissue and inhaled strongly. No more tickling there, even if that weird itch was still bothering his ears and throat. Maybe Obi-Wan could get a drink before he went to bed and by the time he woke up, it would be gone. Resolute to shake the sick feeling before he had to either tell Qui-Gon, go see a healer, or, more likely, both, Obi-Wan clicked the hololight off in the 'fresher and opened the door.

"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon called out to him. It sounded as if he were in the common room.

Padding over to the central room of their quarters, Obi-Wan peered into the dimly lit room. A few candles were lit in the room � a curious habit of Qui-Gon's on nights when he did not have a lot of work to complete � and his master sat at the data terminal. Qui-Gon had a few documents opened, but Obi-Wan's heart sank when he noticed the one Qui-Gon was reading at that point. Obi-Wan's medical records.

"Yes, Master?"

"Ah, you're finished. Good." Qui-Gon glanced over his shoulder and motioned for Obi-Wan to come closer. "Did you want to check your messages before you went to sleep?"

"No, no thank you, Master Qui-Gon." Trying his best to keep the congestion out of his throat, Obi-Wan cleared it with a swallow. Surely his master did not think that this was normal for his padawan, to be coming down with something so often that an examination of his med record was needed. "Thank you for dinner, Master."

"My pleasure, Obi-Wan. Are you sure?" Qui-Gon nodded toward the screen.

"Yes."

"All right, in that case I think it's time for the two of us to get some sleep."

Obi-Wan watched nervously as Qui-Gon closed all the documents and shut down the machine. He expected some sort of comment about the records or his current sniffly condition, but Qui-Gon said nothing. Instead, he drew Obi-Wan nearer, put an arm around his padawan's shoulders and gave him a loose hug.

"Sleep well, and I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Good night, Master." Obi-Wan tentatively moved into Qui-Gon's arms and returned the hug quickly.

"It's going to be cold tonight, so tell me if you need another blanket. I'll be awake for a little while longer." Qui-Gon looked as if he were going to say something else, then changed his mind. "Just tell me if you need anything, all right Obi-Wan?"

"All right." For a second Obi-Wan thought about telling his master he might be coming down with something, but he just could not. Not yet, anyway. He nuzzled closer, just to see if Qui-Gon would mind, and felt not a rebuff, but Qui-Gon's fingers stroking his hair and the deep sound of his laughter.

"Go to bed, Padawan. You'll be much more comfortable there." The laugh sounded again as Obi-Wan disengaged himself from the hug. Qui-Gon rose from the chair and walked as far as Obi-Wan's bedroom door with him. "Good night, Padawan."

"Master." Obi-Wan bowed. He slid into his bed, curled up into a ball, and pushed away the uneasy feeling that was trying to form inside him. Focusing instead on the easy way his master showed affection, Obi-Wan soon fell into a deep sleep.

= = = = = = = = = =

Wind and rain lashed at his window, waking Obi-Wan up sooner than his customary time. He sat up in bed, shivering, and strained his eyes to see what was going on outside. Not able to see through the window coverings, Obi-Wan pushed the covers down and stood up to go over to the window. If he listened carefully, he could tell that it was not rain, but ice that fell from the sky. Obi-Wan took a few steps. A rush of sick dizziness made his head spin, forcing him to sit down once more. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, then another, and pulled the blankets over his body. He was cold, his throat hurt, and his eyes smarted.

"No," Obi-Wan moaned to himself, "not getting sick." It was easier to say that than believe it. Gathering the blankets about his body, Obi-Wan lay back down again. Qui-Gon had been right; the night was bitterly cold. He could not wake his master up at this time for a thermal sheet � Qui-Gon was warm and asleep in his own bed right now. If he woke Qui-Gon up, his master would not only know that he was chilly, but also that he was not feeling well. Obi-Wan never woke up until he had to, unless some danger alerted his force sense.

Rubbing a hand over his eyes and nose, Obi-Wan shivered. If he could fall back to sleep, he should feel all right by the time morning came. Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan burrowed deeper into his blankets. He wan not going to worry about it. He was not going to worry about Qui-Gon worrying about him. He was just going to fall back asleep and wake up feeling better. That is, however, if his nose would stop tickling. It had started to run when he had sat up, and even now as he tried to fall asleep, the sniffles had brought back the itchy feeling. He tried holding it back or sniffling deeper to keep the sensation from growing, but ended up covering his nose with his the sleeve of his sleep tunic.

"Ishhih! Ehtishhoo! Shoo!" Even without checking, he could tell the sneezes were making his nose run more. Those were definitely not just random sneezes; he was catching cold. "Ehh� eishh! Tshhih! EhISH!" Obi-Wan remained in the same position � his shoulders tense, head lifted from the pillow, hand held halfway to his face. The itch made his throat feel funny, as if he needed to cough and sneeze at the same time. "Ehh� heh�" he took a shallow breath, then sneezed a powerful 'AhhChoo!' into his pillow. That certainly got rid of the itchiness in his throat by replacing with more soreness. Obi-Wan lay his head back down and sniffled a few times. He needed some tissues, but he was not sure if he should crawl out of bed to get them.

He was not sure about quite a few things lately, Obi-Wan mused sleepily as the ice clicked against the plexiglass window pane. In the Initiates' Dormitory he had had a sleep couch and small workstation of his own, but not much else. At least he knew what was his and what he was supposed to do with all of it. Obi-Wan rolled over onto his back as his nose started to run more. Here he had a whole room to himself that still looked empty even after these few weeks. Then, of course, there was the common area, and part of that must belong to him, even if most of the articles in there were Qui-Gon's. A few plants, holopics, souvenirs from past missions and whatever his master left in the room. That room looked lived in. Qui-Gon said he used to have a pet k'teil, but that he'd rather have a padawan since they shed less than small felinoids. Obi-Wan had never seen a k'teil, and although they sounded like something that would make his nose itch, he liked the idea of his new master having a pet. It made Qui-Gon seem warmer, less like the tall, foreboding master that had come to request him as padawan learner.

That was another thing that made him feel uncertain, too. How did his master find it so easy to be open? Obi-Wan had meant to hug his master good night first tonight, just like he almost meant to tell Qui-Gon about how he did not feel well. Yet, when it came to either telling or keeping it to himself, he chose the latter. It wan not because Qui-Gon was not easy to talk to; his master did not talk much himself, but he invited confidence. At least he would, if Obi-Wan could convince himself to confide in Qui-Gon. It seemed strange for there to always be one person that Obi-Wan was supposed to rely on, not a handful of teaching masters and dormitory supervisors. There as just Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. Muffling another quiet sneeze into his blanket, Obi-Wan shivered. He better get used to this new arrangement if he wanted to remain a padawan.

He also ought to pull himself out of bed and get the tissues he was fast becoming desperate for. Obi-Wan sniffled wetly one final time. Throwing the covers off the bed, he sat up, fought the dizziness with more success this time and headed to the 'fresher. He had to hold his sleeve to his nose, afraid a few more sneezes would escape as he made his way down the short corridor. Obi-Wan was so focused on the task at hand that he did not notice the 'fresher light was already on until he walked into something. Something very large, very solid and very warm.

"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon stood in front of the 'fresher mirror, clad only in his robe and sleep pants, fixing his hair. Force, just how early did his master get up? "I thought I heard you stirring. It's rather early for you to be awake, isn't it?"

Obi-Wan made a quiet sound, not sure exactly what to say. The bright light in the small room was hurting his eyes, which were already watering from trying to hold back a sneeze. His feet were starting to get cold, too. A chill threatened to make him shudder. Obi-Wan averted his eyes, clenching his jaw against both the sneeze and shiver.

"Did you need something, Padawan?"

There was no way he could hide behind his denial now. Obi-Wan needed the tissues; turning around and heading back to his room would only make matters worse at this point. On the other hand, it was only a tissue he needed. Reaching toward the counter, Obi-Wan started to answer Qui-Gon. Instead of words, however, all that came out was a sharp, gasped breath. "HehKishh!" The tickle had snuck up on him, forcing Obi-Wan to bury his face as quickly as possible into the crook of his elbow. "Ishh! Chsshh! Ch'sh, Chshh, huh!Schoo!"

"Oh, Obi-Wan, bless you." Genuine feeling ran through Qui-Gon's words. Whether it was sympathy or worry, Obi-Wan could not quite tell. "Here."

Obi-Wan blinked as he raised his head. Qui-Gon stood before him, offering the box of tissues. With hesitant fingers he took two, thanked Qui-Gon through his sniffles, and blew his nose softly. The feeling that Qui-Gon was watching him as he did so would not go away. After a few minutes Obi-Wan felt self-conscious. He scrubbed his nose into the balled up tissues and made a move to leave the 'fresher.

"Obi?" A warm hand rested on his shoulder. "Obi-Wan, do you feel all right?" Qui-Gon's hand massaged his shoulder lightly, preventing him from both moving away and wanting to move away.

"Hih�tishh!" Smothering the noise into his tissues, Obi-Wan lowered his head. "I just had to sneeze."

"And that woke you up?"

Obi-Wan hesitated. He had woken up sniffly and with the urge to sneeze, but that did not mean it had caused him to drift out of sleep. It was just as likely that the wind and rain were to blame. "I don't think so, Master."

"Hmm." Qui-Gon bent closer to Obi-Wan, brushing his palm over Obi-Wan's forehead. A vague sensation tingled over the new bond between the two of them, but disappeared just as quickly. Qui-Gon frowned, then ran his hand through Obi-Wan's hair. "Does it feel like a cold or maybe the 'flu? You don't have a temperature, though."

"No, Master. My nose just itched and I think that was making it run."

"Hmm." Again. Another frown, too. Qui-Gon took something from the medicine cabinet. He handed Obi-Wan a small tablet. "It's a very mild antihistamine. It won't do much except help with the sneezies, and possibly make you drowsy. I should have had the cleaning droids come before you moved in, I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan stared at the small, pink pill in the palm of his hand. "Master?"

"I'll make you a cup of tea and you can go lie down for a few more hours. We'll skip morning katas since you have 'saber class today."

"All right, Master, but I don't think that's necessary." Walking out of the 'fresher as his master's hand rested on his back, Obi-Wan headed toward his bedchamber. He had not even mentioned feeling sick and his master was already treating him like an invalid. Obi-Wan could certainly get through the day with a sore throat and runny nose. "I might as well stay up since I'm awake."

Qui-Gon rubbed his forehead. "It's early, and the ice storm is making it a dark, cold morning. There's no reason for you to be up, especially after you take the antihistamine."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan replied uncertainly. He was not sure if he should say anything else and take the risk of sounding silly or, as his nose tickled, sneezing mid-sentence. Rubbing his nose, Obi-Wan stood next to his sleep couch and placed the tiny pill on the table before he lost it. "EhKishh!"

"Bless you." Qui-Gon's hand forced him to sit on the bed.

"Ishhih! huh� shoo!" Another sharp breath caught in Obi-Wan's throat. The tingling he felt in his nose died down to a burning sensation that only made his nose run.

"Bless you, again. Do you need another tissue?"

Sniffling quietly, Obi-Wan nodded. It would be a lot easier to convince both himself and his master that he was not ill if he could stop sneezing so much. He really did not feel all that bed, Obi-Wan thought, as he wiped his nose. A bit tired, itchy nose and throat. The headache and stuffiness were not as bad as when he woke up.

"Now, I want you to rest, Padawan. It might only be some sneezing and a runny nose, but," Qui-Gon paused, looking rather uncertain and worried himself, "well, just try and sleep. It won't hurt you."

"I could stay up." Obi-Wan ventured. He could. He was not sure what he would do, now that Qui-Gon had decided they would not practice katas. "And do, something?"

"Yes, I'm sure you could." Qui-Gon smiled. "But I think it would be better for you to take the antihistamine and sleep some. Let me get you that tea, Obi-Wan, and you get back into bed."

"All right."

"Good." Lightly patting his back, Qui-Gon nodded toward the small table next to Obi-Wan's bed. "We'll leave the tissues in here for you, too."

Qui-Gon had already seemed to deduce that something was wrong with him and judging by the tone of his voice, he was not going to listen to anything Obi-Wan said to convince him otherwise. At least he was not reprimanding Obi-Wan for un-padawan like behavior or sending him to the healers alone. Obi-Wan slid back into bed, still wondering if he should mention that he was suffering from more than a runny nose and sneezes. Qui-Gon would probably want him to attend his sword-fighting lesson today. It would not be good to miss lessons with his master and an important class in the same day. Taking another tissue, Obi-Wan touched it to his nostrils and sniffed delicately. He would be all right.

= = = = = = = = = =

Once again Qui-Gon found himself waiting outside a room for Obi-Wan, this time the padawan training rooms. Pacing outside the door had proven annoying, as the corridor was only wide enough to allow him five or six strides at a time. He did not want to walk away from the door, lest he accidentally miss Obi-Wan in the rush of people leaving the room. Of course, Qui-Gon could just go look for his padawan. No. Best not embarrass the boy. Obi-Wan was probably still inside the locker rooms, getting showered and changed after class. Silently Qui-Gon hoped Obi-Wan remembered to dry his hair.

His padawan had looked better rested the second time he awoke that morning, the dark circles having faded from beneath his eyes. But those same eyes were a little more dull and his nose had become red around the nostrils, even if the antihistamine had calmed the sneezes down. Qui-Gon's first assumptions � that his padawan had just caught a slight chill or was more sensitive to dust and pollen in their rooms than he had thought � were starting to lose credence. He would have their rooms cleaned again, more thoroughly, and perhaps get rid of some of the plants, once he perused Obi-Wan's medical records more thoroughly. The guilt that accompanied that first assumption, however, was not going away as quickly. Qui-Gon should have known, should have paying more attention, should have been aware of what would bother his poor Obi-Wan. The boy certainly would not know exactly to what he was allergic. His cr�che masters paid attention to that for the past twelve years. Imagine if it had been something worse? Qui-Gon pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead. He exhaled slowly, releasing the worry into the Force. It had not been anything worse; his padawan was fine.

As fine as one could be, that is, while in the midst of coming down with a cold. Qui-Gon could only guess what symptoms Obi-Wan had. Beyond the soft, shy sneezes and sniffles, which Obi-Wan could not prevent, he had not been very demonstrative about what was bothering him. The occasional cough, a touch of hoarse congestion in his voice, maybe one or two half-hidden yawns when he would not normally be tired � that was the extent of Obi-Wan letting anyone know he was not feeling well. Until the end of his 'saber class, which he insisted on attending, Qui-Gon mused. Another thing he should not have done � let Obi-Wan attend class. But the boy could be so stubborn sometimes, in his own quiet way. And truly, he had not even done so much as intimated to Qui-Gon he did not feel well. The cold probably had not gotten very bad until this afternoon. By the end of the rigorous drills the sword master put the class through, his Obi-Wan had not enough strength left to prevent the evidence of his illness from leaking over the bond. His padawan was strong enough, though, to have kept it from Qui-Gon this long. Strong, and perhaps a touch insecure.

Changing positions again, Qui-Gon leant one shoulder against the wall. He understood how Obi-Wan felt. Or no, that was not true. He understood his own emotions, and right now, they included fear of letting down his own shields. All the mistakes Qui-Gon had made with Obi-Wan were crowding his mind. The two of them had only been together for a few short weeks; he had only been a master with Obi-Wan as his padawan for about a month now. He could have had that title for the rest of his life without taking on another apprentice. Perhaps he was getting too old to raise another young Jedi to knighthood. Too old, too set in his ways and methods to form a strong enough bond with Obi-Wan.

A stronger training bond would have let him know that his padawan was getting ill. Qui-Gon knew it would, just as he knew a month-old training bond was rarely that strong. Still, it bothered him. Something in Obi-Wan's eager blue-grey eyes, something in the Force told Qui-Gon his padawan was special. Had Qui-Gon been a fool to think he should be the being to present Knight Kenobi to the galaxy in a dozen years?

Another deep breath, another soothing wave of Force energy, another walk across the short corridor.

The same Force that told Qui-Gon his padawan was important for the galaxy told him that Obi-Wan was important in his life, too. He would have to place his trust in that Force and do his best with Obi-Wan. Now that he had let that bright presence into his life, Qui-Gon doubted he could hand Obi-Wan over to another master for training.

Slowly, the group of padawans that been using the training room trickled out. Freshly showered and talking excitedly, even those who had not done very well in class that day held onto the look of exhilaration that a good afternoon in the training room brings. Qui-Gon smiled back at the few padawans that greeted him. His own apprentice, however, did not appear to be with the group. Qui-Gon waited until the class had cleared out and nobody else came out of the locker rooms. He even waited an extra few minutes, just in case Obi-Wan had stopped to talk with the sword master. Finally, Qui-Gon gave into his growing impatience and walked into the boys' locker room.

Clad only in trousers and lightweight under tunic, his thin shoulders shaking as he coughed, Obi-Wan sat one of the locker room benches. Either he did not hear Qui-Gon approach or he was too preoccupied with the coughing fit to notice, for he did not turn around. Qui-Gon walked over quietly and sat down next to his padawan.

"You did well in 'saber drills today." Rubbing Obi-Wan's shoulders, Qui-Gon spoke when the coughing stopped. "I was proud of you."

"You came, Master?" Obi-Wan asked in a quiet, hoarse voice.

"Of course. I am in the middle of doing those evaluations."

"Oh."

Completely quiet, Obi-Wan turned to face his master. His eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, his nose, a sort of sensitive looking pink. Sensitive enough, in fact, that when he took a few short breaths, his nostrils twitched slightly � the beginning of a sneezing fit.

"ehh�K'shh! Kshh! KehChff!" Sneezing into one palm, which he tightly held over his nose and mouth, Obi-Wan shivered. "EhCH! Ch'huh� ihh�hih�Chshhuh!"

"Blesses. You've doing a lot of that lately, Padawan." Qui-Gon rubbed Obi-Wan's shoulders a bit more gently, softening his words with his actions. "The drills must have been difficult to get through."

Obi-Wan nodded weakly. He lowered his hand a few inches, brought it back to his face, and turned away from Qui-Gon. "EhhKishhIH! Keh�Tschoo! HehCSH!" Pressing his nose into his hand, Obi-Wan sniffled. Fatigue seemed to weigh heavy on him, making his movements more slow than normal. With teary eyes, he turned back to Qui-Gon. "I'm sorry. I," he paused to swallow, clear his throat, and swallow again, "I think I'm getting sick."

"Yes? Do you want to tell me about it or show me?" Obi-Wan shivered under his touch as Qui-Gon stroked his padawan's back.

"Show you?"

Reaching around Obi-Wan he picked up the discarded tunic and slid over Obi-Wan's shoulders. "Perhaps you should finish dressing first."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan struggled into his tunics quickly. His fingers shook as he fastened his belt, though Qui-Gon could tell he was trying his best to control it. An uncertain look crossed his face when Qui-Gon placed his hands over Obi-Wan's. "Master?"

"Locker rooms aren't the warmest of places." Qui-Gon murmured. He tightened the belt and drew Obi-Wan closer. "Come here. Let's get you warm before we walk back to our rooms."

Obi-Wan still looked uncertain and for a moment Qui-Gon thought he would not accept the proffered hug. One final shiver racked his frame and with that he moved as close as he could to Qui-Gon. If he could have melted into Qui-Gon's embrace, it felt like he would have. "Thanks."

"Of course. It's nice to share warmth with someone, isn't it?" Qui-Gon could not help but smile. His padawan, so shy about accepting a hug just a few minutes ago, was attempting to snuggle his way into Qui-Gon's robe. Wrapping the warm, heavy material around Obi-Wan, he shifted so they would both be comfortable on the narrow bench. "Better?"

A small nod and a mumbled yes were the response Qui-Gon received. Obi-Wan had raised a sleeve to his face, his body tensing. "ISHH! ehh�T'shoo! Ahh�ish!ihShoo!" A wet sniffle followed the last sneeze. " 'Scuse me."

"Bless you." His poor padawan. He was not just getting sick. Obi-Wan was well past 'getting' and quickly heading toward 'being.' Qui-Gon drew a handkerchief from his tunics and handed it to a still sneezey looking Obi-Wan.

"Ahh-Shoo!" Sneezing just as he unfolded the handkerchief, Obi-Wan curled up on himself. For all his seriousness and excellence as a padawan, he looked very small and young at that moment. Qui-Gon could only see the top of his head, the soft brush of his ginger hair visible as he huddled in on himself even more. "EhTISH! Tishhih! ISH! Huh� IhShoo! oh�" With the small sigh, Obi-Wan's shoulders relaxed.

"Bless you. You can keep the handkerchief, all right?" Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan lean against him and nod. The seat was still awkward, but Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan into a tighter embrace. "Are the sneezes getting bad?"

"A little bit." Obi-Wan sniffled a few times, then blew his nose quietly. "My nose is getting stuffy."

"Indeed, I can hear."

"Oh." Another sniffle, muffled into the handkerchief, sounded from Obi-Wan. He squirmed a little, adjusting his tunics, finally settling against Qui-Gon. Looking up, he pressed the handkerchief to his nose before he spoke. "What did you want me to show you?"

Qui-Gon brushed his fingers through Obi-Wan's short hair. A locker room was not the best place to work on their training bond. Qui-Gon had managed, however, to get Obi-Wan close enough to him to establish a good connection. It was not every day that he had his padawan this near to him for more than a five-second hug. A healthy padawan would have been better, but the small sniffles and coughs did not bother Qui-Gon all that much. He would keep this little one warm as long as he had to.

"Close your eyes, Obi-Wan, and concentrate on the Force. Find the place in the Force where you can feel me, where you can feel the light of our bond." A small glimmer traveled over their bond. Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan's presence grow stronger, then waver momentarily.

"Ihh�ISH! K'SHOO!" The smaller, warm body next to his shuddered as Obi-Wan sneezed. "Chshh! IshhShoo!" A quick double sneeze had Obi-Wan blowing his nose again. When he looked up at Qui-Gon this time, his eyes shone with tears and embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it, Master."

"Shh, it's all right. You're sick; you needed to sneeze. Maybe we should go home first, then you can do some bond-work with me." Qui-Gon stroked Obi-Wan's hair again. The slight worry he felt through their bond, strengthened both by Obi-Wan's efforts and their physical proximity, faded as he did so. He would have to remember that Obi-Wan liked being comforted this way.

"Oh, Master."

The sound of disappointment in that stuffy little voice, coupled with the look in Obi-Wan's eyes, was Qui-Gon's downfall. He already felt bad enough that his padawan was ill. The eagerness in Obi-Wan's eyes had been unexpected, but not unwelcome. Qui-Gon could not make himself crush that eagerness, even if it meant sitting in the chilly locker room on an uncomfortably narrow bench longer than he wanted. Taking his hand from Obi-Wan's hair, Qui-Gon put his arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders and renewed the hug.

"My padawan." Obi-Wan was positively brimming with Light � his content shone through the haze of sickness that surrounded his Force aura. Maybe it was not just the bond Obi-Wan wanted to feel. He just wanted to be close to someone, close to his master. Qui-Gon sighed. The boy could be so affectionate if only he were not so unsure of himself. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yes, Master."

"Shh� don't speak, feel. Concentrate on how you feel, and try to let me know, through our bond, Obi-Wan."

Agreeing silently, Obi-Wan leaned his head against Qui-Gon's chest. The soft, congested sound of his breathing struggled to remain even; every few minutes a half-suppressed cough or sneeze would escape. Every few minutes Qui-Gon would gently soothe the boy, rubbing his back, convincing him that the cold was in no way disturbing their connection. For, after a few minutes of faint Force threads reaching out to him, Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan touching their bond. Warm, familiar, like a long missed friend's smile, his padawan's touch was something Qui-Gon longed to feel all the time. It was difficult to let go of doubts and inadequacies, and he would never be the perfect Jedi Master his Obi-Wan deserved, but moments like this convinced Qui-Gon that Obi-Wan was the padawan he was meant to have.

A soft sneeze turned Qui-Gon thoughts from his own issues related to their bond to his padawan. There, just beneath the feeling that was indescribably Obi-Wan to him, was the boy's impression of his illness. Cold, discomfort, weakness, insecurity, trouble breathing without encountering a sneezing or coughing fit, and the general ache that could stretch from a sore throat to a headache to over all body aches and pains. Not a distinct impression, but a clear enough one. They had communicated over their bond.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon nudged his padawan through the bond as he himself started to pull away, "open your eyes now."

"M'tired," mumbling into Qui-Gon's tunic, Obi-Wan let their connection lose intensity slowly, "but it felt nice, close. It was like, like �" The words slowed to a faint whisper. Obi-Wan curled closer, the lower half of his face buried in the handkerchief. "Huh�IshSHOO! KehSHoo! ehhK'shoo!"

"Bless you, Obi-Wan." Worry flitted though Qui-Gon as a shiver passed through his padawan. He would have to get Obi-Wan back home soon and into bed. The tangle of emotions that accompanied Obi-Wan's cold could be dealt with in the future.

"Thanks, I, oh� oh, no, again�" Obi-Wan took a sharp breath. "Huh�CHshh! HuhCh! Chfffuh! eh'chssh, CHshh, Cheh�Chshoo!" The series of partially held in sneezes had Obi-Wan coughing a few times, sniffling, then coughing again. He blew his nose, and, with a weary sound, prepared for another sneeze. "EhhKishh! Keh-Tschoo! ShihISHuh!" A more rough sounding cough shook Obi-Wan's frame. He pulled himself away from Qui-Gon and blew his nose strongly, his slim shoulders strained with the effort.

"Be easy, Padawan. You don't want to hurt yourself." Drawing the tips of his fingers down Obi-Wan's spine, Qui-Gon sent a tendril of healing Force energy. The same touch, after he intensified it, would keep Obi-Wan warm for the walk home. When Obi-Wan calmed down, the tiny sniffly noises having finished, Qui-Gon got up off the bench to kneel in front of his padawan. "It feels nice to be close to you here," he touched the palm of his hand to Obi-Wan's cheek, stroking his fingers over the side of Obi-Wan's face until he held it in his hand, "for many reasons. Because we crave warmth and affection, because I care about you, because you aren't feeling well."

Obi-Wan leaned into the touch, his cheek warm as Qui-Gon's palm cupped it. Silent, he watched as Qui-Gon moved the hand down to his chest.

"It feels nice to be close to you here, too. Because you are my padawan, because we have a new bond, because someday, it'll hurt more to be apart than to try to become closer."

"I try, Master, I�" Obi-Wan stopped. Confusion shone in his eyes, along with the sleepiness that made them look more grey than blue. "I like being close to you, too. The bond feels right."

"Then I think we're going to be just fine, my Padawan." He would talk to Obi-Wan about the training bond more later. As long as Obi-Wan knew it was there and that the closeness between the two of them needed to be strengthened. Not just when one of them was ill or injured. "Should we go home, my Obi?"

Instead of his usual 'yes, Master,' Obi-Wan simply nodded. He was still for a moment, then leaned forward to give Qui-Gon a bashful hug. Shy, uncertain, but warm all the same, the hug filled Qui-Gon wish the assurance he had been hoping it would. Qui-Gon returned the hug. He pulled away only to press a kiss to Obi-Wan's forehead.

"Then let us go home, my Padawan,"

= = = = = = = = = =

Gazing out of the bedroom window, Qui-Gon watched as the slivers of ice continued to fall from a dark sky. The storm had lasted throughout the day, wind and rain and ice alternating to make Coruscant a very cold, raw place. The Temple, an old structure, let some of that rawness leak in from the outdoors. Qui-Gon ran his hand along the window pane, telling himself one more time that there was no way he could ensure that his padawan could be kept any warmer. He had put another thermal sheet and comforter on the sleep couch, accepting Obi-Wan's sleepy reply that he was warm enough. Finally, after another few minutes of useless worry, Qui-Gon left the storm and ice to its devices and went to sit down on the edge of Obi-Wan's bed.

He had ordered Obi-Wan to sleep after they returned home, meeting with less resistance than he had expected. Obi-Wan had slept for a few hours, woke up long enough to take some broth and hot tea, and sneezed his way through a good number of tissues before returning to bed.

Obi-Wan whimpered quietly in his sleep, moving closer to Qui-Gon. He quieted when Qui-Gon pressed his hand to the boy's forehead. The wind was loud enough to wake Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon kept his hand on Obi-Wan's forehead. He could stay here, with his padawan, until the storm quieted down. Then he would sleep, hopefully waking before Obi-Wan's cold disturbed his padawan's sleep once more. It seemed, however, as the wind shrieked loudly and slapped a sheet of ice against their window, that more than illness would wake Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon looked down as Obi-Wan shifted positions and raised his head from the pillow.

"Bad weather, Master." Obi-Wan said in a muzzy voice. He was barely awake, eyes still bleary and unfocused with sleep.

"Bad weather indeed, my little one," Qui-Gon whispered, petting Obi-Wan's hair. "Now, hush, you need your rest." He settled down onto the bed, adjusted the robe over his sleep tunic, and let his breathing match the soft sound of Obi-Wan's. Bad, but not bad enough to disturb this small amount of peace he and Obi-Wan had created. In a few minutes, Obi-Wan fell asleep again and Qui-Gon concentrated on warmth and peace until he could be sure it would be hours before Obi-Wan woke again.

= = = = = = = = = =

The winds had died down by the time Obi-Wan did wake up. The relative quiet was not among the first things he noticed upon waking up, however. First, Obi-Wan attempted to get back to sleep after being awake for a handful of seconds. Thwarted by a completely congested nose, he sat up part way and tried breathing in again. A sharp pain shot through his sinuses and Obi-Wan groaned. His head felt like it was filled with permacrete, the painful congestion making it difficult to sit up or even think. Coughing quietly, Obi-Wan curled up beneath the blankets and closed his eyes against the pain.

It was no use. He still could not get back to sleep. The tickly dryness in his throat was starting to get worse, too. When he swallowed, Obi-Wan's throat hurt. It made him want to cough, too. Obi-Wan willed the feeling back. He wanted to sleep, not feel sick and achy, and what if he woke up his master? Qui-Gon was still sleeping; their rooms were so quiet, Obi-Wan pretty sure nobody else was awake. Swallowing convulsively, he suppressed another cough. The dryness in his mouth and throat were too much and pretty soon Obi-Wan was in the middle of a coughing spasm. Everything that hurt when he woke up hurt even more by the time he finished. Other things, like his chest, which had not hurt then, ached now. Curled into a tight ball, coughing every few seconds, Obi-Wan wondered exactly what the Force had against him. All he wanted to do was rest. Obi-Wan shut his eyes and held back the whimper that rose up inside him when the pain throbbed in his head. The soft click of a hololamp and even softer touch of fingers on his forehead had Obi-Wan opening his eyes again.

"I thought you were awake," Qui-Gon said with a small smile, "you're so quiet sometimes. How do you feel?"

"Not so good." Struggling to sit up as Qui-Gon's arms slid behind his shoulders, Obi-Wan coughed again. Talking made him cough, breathing made him cough, and he could feel his clogged nose start to itch again. A miserable look was all Obi-Wan could manage as he sat back against the pillows Qui-Gon had rearranged for him.

"Can you drink a little tea for me? It's not hot, but sip carefully." Qui-Gon held a cup to his lips at just the right angle so none of it spilled. "Good, slowly. Your throat hurts?"

Obi-Wan nodded. He could not taste the tea Qui-Gon had given him, but he could tell it felt good sliding down his throat. At least if it tasted disgusting, he would not have to pretend he liked it. His master was being much too nice for him to complain. That is, if he felt like talking at all. Rubbing two fingers under his nose, Obi-Wan watched Qui-Gon through heavy lidded eyes. Qui-Gon had taken to smoothing out the bedding. He fixed the tangled sheets, tucked the comforter around Obi-Wan, and loosely draped another blanket over Obi-Wan's shoulders.

"You should try and sit up for a little while; it'll help your stuffy nose. You're still warm enough?"

Another tired nod was Obi-Wan's response. Beyond the congestion in his nose was that tickle again. Raising one hand, he turned his head away from Qui-Gon and toward his pillow. "EHhhISHH! Hishhuh! Huh�eh, ehISHH! Shoo!!" Dazed, Obi-Wan put his hand down. The sneezes made his upper body ache, much like the coughing had done. But now he felt the throbbing in his sinuses, too. A painful sniff � an attempt to take care of the way his nose was running � told Obi-Wan that the congestion had filled his whole head. He wanted to blow his nose and get rid of the stuffiness, but first he had to stop his nose from dripping.

"Let me get you some tissues, Padawan." Qui-Gon reached over to the bedside table while Obi-Wan held a sleeve to his nose.

"ISH! ihhYISHH! hihShoo! huh�UhCHOO!" Sneezing suddenly and wetly, Obi-Wan jerked back as he went to take the tissues from Qui-Gon. His eyes and nose were both running, the itch in both of them. "EhhSHH! Huh!Shushh!! eh�HehCHmmppff!!" Obi-Wan blinked with surprise as a handful of tissues pressed up against his nose.

"Blessings. No, hush, don't, it's all right," Qui-Gon mildly scolded him as Obi-Wan made a move to grab the tissues. "Do you still need to sneeze?"

Obi-Wan nodded as his eyes fluttered shut. "EhhCHfff! HuhCHshhooh!! HehChmn! Cheh-CHshhn!" It took a few seconds for Obi-Wan to pull away from the tissues Qui-Gon held for him and relax back against his pillows. He must look like such a mess, and his master had to take care of him as if he were one of the littlest initiates. Obi-Wan fought the warm, easy feelings inside that Qui-Gon's attentions had caused. Fought them until he looked into his master's kind blue eyes.

"Bless you." Speaking quietly, Qui-Gon delicately wiped Obi-Wan's eyes and nose. He frowned slightly when Obi-Wan started to lean forward. "What? You should rest, Obi-Wan."

"Need to," Obi-Wan paused to cough, "blow my nose."

"Ah, right." Qui-Gon hesitated a moment. A few fresh, dry tissues made their way into Obi-Wan's hand. "Here, but not too hard. You're very congested."

Obi-Wan blew lightly, then a bit harder. The pressure made his ears pop and he had to wait until the wave of discomfort passed to start again. Once he could clear his nose, he filled a few tissues. The congestion eased up enough to allow Obi-Wan a few seconds of relief. As he collapsed back onto the pillows, the stuffiness was affecting his nose once more. With a disgusted sigh, Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He rubbed his nose with a clean tissue and willed away the sneezes that still lingered.

"Qui-Gon, is it still night?"

"Shh� you don't have to talk. No, it's just past midday, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan yawned, trying to remember if he had noticed whether or not Qui-Gon had sleep clothes on yet. He decided that his master was dressed, but when he opened his eyes to check, he felt them start to tear. The tickle in his nose had him cupping both hands over his face, tissue covering his nose as a warm, itchy sensation filled it. "EhhKShhh! Keshun! Ishhiih! huh�" A funny tingling remained in his nose, somehow both made worse and impeded by the stuffiness. Obi-Wan coughed a few times, still holding the tissue to his nose, then tensed as another sneeze came. "Ehh� huhCHSSH!! HihSchoo!" Sniffling helplessly, Obi-Wan let Qui-Gon ease the tension out of his back.

"Relax, Obi-Wan. Clear you nose," he gave Obi-Wan another tissue, "then try to rest, even if you can't sleep."

Drifting in and out of sleep, Obi-Wan was vaguely aware of his master cleaning the used tissues off the bed. He heard Qui-Gon leave, then return a few minutes later to place something on the table. The mattress on the sleep couch dipped as Qui-Gon sat on the bed next to him. He pressed his lips to Obi-Wan's forehead in a touch that barely fluttered over Obi-Wan's skin. It was such a simple gesture, the cr�che masters used it all the time to check for fever. Somehow, however, it felt familiar to Obi-Wan for another reason. Moving closer to Qui-Gon, he could not help but wish his master would put his arm around Obi-Wan.

"Master?" Obi-Wan forced his eyes open and searched for Qui-Gon's face in the dimly lit bedchamber.

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"You stayed with me last night?"

"I did." The sound of a sigh. "I'll always stay with you, as long as I can."

The soft touch brushed over his hair and Obi-Wan nestled closer to his master. That was what he had felt. The complacent warmth that filled his heart while he slept, the feelings of safety and comfort that allowed him to rest despite the discomfort of illness and the raging storm outside. His master and that bond Obi-Wan had felt the vivid energy of in the locker room the day before. Was this what being a padawan meant? Not competing in 'saber drills of visiting the Senate chambers or watching Qui-Gon fix breakfast. Or maybe it was all of those things, too. Obi-Wan felt weak and tired; the thoughts that wandered in and out of his mind confused him. He knew one thing, though. He had someone to take care of him. And that one thought, no matter how sick he was, did not fail to amaze him. He had someone to take care of him.

That was what their bond meant.

Obi-Wan yawned sleepily. He dragged his eyes open again when Qui-Gon put something cool next to his lips.

"I know you're tired, Obi, but I need you to drink this for me."

Sipping from the container, Obi-Wan drank down something less warm and soothing than the tea his master had given him. There was a bitter aftertaste that even Obi-Wan could detect. He winced when Qui-Gon took away the cup.

"I'm sorry, I know it tastes horrible, most medicines do. Now, here, some more tea." Another cup pressed to Obi-Wan's lips and Qui-Gon waited until he took a few swallows. "Good. You can rest. I've called the Healers; they'll send someone up to look at you."

"Can go there," Obi-Wan mumbled. He could. Or, well, he thought he could. The pain and wooziness that struck him as he sat up proved him wrong. "Or not." Rubbing his nose, Obi-Wan sank back into the softness of his bed.

"Just stay in bed, Padawan. It's the best thing for you right now."

Qui-Gon clicked off the hololight in the room � the sound was the last thing Obi-Wan heard before he fell back asleep. The sensation of security stayed with him as he slept.

= = = = = = = = = =

The quiet, guarded sound of hushed voices floated in from the common room. Obi-Wan peered over the covers, trying to see who his master was talking to, but could not see any further than the edge of his sleep couch. The bedchamber was still dim; the light that spilled in from the common room did little more than illuminate the doorway. Obi-Wan blinked a few times, having trouble focusing his eyes. It hurt to look too hard at anything for more than a few seconds. A strange feeling, a cross between a headache and a dizzy spell, kept Obi-Wan from attempting to find Qui-Gon again. He recognized the sound of his master's voice; that would have to be enough as he eased his eyes back closed.

Every time he woke up, Obi-Wan seemed to feel a bit more ill. This time he could not quite pinpoint what had gotten worse. He felt horrible all over. Achy, stuffed up, tired � all the little miseries had combined, their edges blurring into each other. Obi-Wan breathed in carefully through dry, chapped lips and coughed when he exhaled. Hot thirst parched his sore throat; the pain intensified with each cough. Holding back the urge to cough, Obi-Wan swallowed. He wished he could ask his master to come over their bond, but simply touching the bond made his senses spin. The voices became louder and when there was a pause, a light snapped on in the bedroom.

"Surely, you don't need it that bright?"

Qui-Gon spoke just as Obi-Wan buried his face in the pillow. The light was so bright it made Obi-Wan's eyes smart and water. He turned when the easy pressure of Qui-Gon's hand rested on his shoulder.

"Come, Obi-Wan, it's not so bad." Did his master sound almost sorry? Qui-Gon sat on the sleep couch and stroked Obi-Wan's shoulder. "You'll get used to the light in a few minutes."

If he had had any strength left, Obi-Wan would have begged to differ with his master. Giving in was so much easier, even if the light made his eyes tear more, which in turn made his nose tingle. Obi-Wan groped for a tissue and nodded a hello to the knight his master introduced as Healer Kirina. She was younger than Qui-Gon and wore blue robes without a 'saber. Obi-Wan had not met her before and assumed she never treated initiates, or else he would have seen her on previous trips to the healing dome.

"Padawan Kenobi," she looked past Qui-Gon, frowning until he got up from the bed and left Obi-Wan's side. "You'll have to sit up for me, Obi-Wan. This shouldn't take long." The last comment seemed to be directed at Qui-Gon, who although he had risen, did not leave the side of Obi-Wan's sleep couch.

"Kira, he's �" Qui-Gon moved closer to the bed as she drew the blanket from Obi-Wan's shoulders. He rested one hand firmly on Obi-Wan's back, rubbing it reassuringly when Obi-Wan shivered.

"Sick, I know. You'll have to trust me, Qui-Gon."

Obi-Wan watched with confusion as his master and the healer stared at each other for a few seconds. Finally, Qui-Gon nodded curtly. He took the blanket from Kira's hands, keeping one of his own hands on Obi-Wan's back. Obi-Wan had hoped Qui-Gon would sit back down on the bed. He craved more warmth than just the touch of Qui-Gon's hand on his back. Sniffling, Obi-Wan shifted positions to be closer to his master.

"He's cold, Kira," Qui-Gon murmured and sat back down on the sleep couch. "Can you sit up if you lean against me, Obi-Wan?" The words accompanied a small hug.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan croaked out. He felt so tired. Why did everything make him feel so cold and sleepy? At least Qui-Gon was warm. Obi-Wan sank back against his master, holding the tissue to his nose again. It had been running enough to turn the tingling sensation into a tickling one. He inhaled deeply though his mouth, preparing for a sneeze, but ending up coughing a few times first. As soon as he could catch his breath, his nose acted up. "HehSschoo! Eshhooh! Uh�Ketschoo! hehh�" Another breath that caught in his throat made Obi-Wan cough painfully. His nose was streaming when he could breathe more easily. The damp tissue did little more than irritate his nose.

"Bless you."

Obi-Wan shyly lowered the tissue from his face as his master and Kira both blessed him. Sniffing through his stuffed up nose had encouraged the tickling again, forcing Obi-Wan to mumble a thank you as he wiped his nose on his sleeve. He scrubbed it against the soft material; he thought maybe if he could get the itch to go away, so would the sneezes. Obi-Wan let out a soft gasp and shakily lowered his arm. Qui-Gon's gentle offer of a handkerchief had come just in time. "Ehh�KISH! UhEiishh!! Huh!shoo! EhhK'ESH!" Letting his breath out in a weary 'oh,' Obi-Wan blew his nose quickly. He did not want to sneeze anymore; he really just wanted to curl up and be warm and sleepy again.

"Come, Padawan, I promise this won't take a long time." Kira smiled sympathetically as she unbuttoned Obi-Wan's sleep tunic. She was avoiding Qui-Gon's gaze now, though, only speaking to Obi-Wan as she performed a quick examination. Her smooth, cool hands slipped up the front of his chest and removed his tunic. It felt all right, but not like when his master rubbed his chest.

Obi-Wan held back the urge to bury his face in Qui-Gon's tunics again. His master just felt so good and warm sitting there next to him that Obi-Wan could tell he would be able to sit there, next to his master, without the blanket or tunic and still be comfortable. He raised his eyes to Qui-Gon while the healer asked him a few questions. There was that gentle care again.

"How long have you been congested like this?" Kira asked after she listened to Obi-Wan's breathing. She had already checked his ears, nose and throat and seemed to find pressing the cold, metal steth-disk to his chest more interesting.

Looking down at Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon slid an arm around his shoulders. He waited until Obi-Wan nodded, then answered. "Just since yesterday afternoon. He'd been sneezing and had a runny nose before that. Are you nearly finished, Kira?"

She asked Obi-Wan to breathe deeply again, which started him coughing violently. Each breath seemed to catch in his chest and Obi-Wan had to force it out, only to have it snag again. After a few painful seconds, Obi-Wan slumped against Qui-Gon's side and accepted a cup of water with breathless thanks. He had not coughed like that since he woke up. Throat and chest aching coughs that made his head pound. Obi-Wan sniffled unhappily and gave the cup back to Qui-Gon. He was more than ready to go back to sleep now.

"I think that's enough for now." Qui-Gon draped the blanket over Obi-Wan's shoulders and wrapped it around him. "Kira?"

An uncertain look crossed her face. She touched one hand to Obi-Wan's face, let her palm linger for a moment, the patted his cheek gently. "Get some rest, Padawan, and make sure you take whatever your Master gives you. You need to drink a lot of fluids, all right?"

Another sniffle held off Obi-Wan's response. He rubbed his nose into the blanket that covered his arm, mumbled a 'yes,' and rubbed his nose some more.

"All right. Feel better, Obi-Wan."

He wanted to reply to that friendly good-bye. As soon as Obi-Wan raised his head, however, a tingling rushed through his nose. Huddling in on himself, he let the sneeze come. "EISHH!"

"Bless you." Qui-Gon stroked his hair gently. He placed a few tissues into Obi-Wan's hand before turning back to the healer. "Thank you for coming; I'll show you out, Kira."

"I'll meet you outside, Qui."

"Thank you." Speaking a little more quietly this time, with a tone in his voice that Obi-Wan did not quite recognize, Qui-Gon touched Kira's hand as she left the room. He stroked Obi-Wan's hair again as Obi-Wan sneezed into the tissues. "Bless."

Congested and still needing to sneeze, Obi-Wan thanked his master silently. "Ehh..HetChff! KehChsshn! huh� Chshoo!" He sniffled, trying to coax out another sneeze, but was only left with the annoying feeling of a tickle in his nose. Blowing his nose did not help the tickle, but did relieve some of the congestion. Obi-Wan took another tissue from the box his master held. If he did not need it right now, he would very soon.

"I want you to put this back on," Qui-Gon handed the tunic back to Obi-Wan, "and then get back under the blankets."

"Yes, Master." The blanket slipped from his shoulders as Obi-Wan clumsily put the tunic on. He slipped into the sleeves fast enough to catch the sneeze that had been bothering him for the past few minutes. "ehKISHH! ah�"

"Oh, Obi, blessings. Now, get warmed up. I'm going to put water for tea on for us. Will you be all right?"

Obi-Wan answered quietly and hoarsely. Of course he would be all right, as long as he could eventually get a warm drink, hug and back to sleep. After sniffing into his tissue, Obi-Wan accepted a quick embrace from his master and snuggled down into the pillows. He was too stuffy and achy to sleep just yet. The promise of tea helped, even as the hushed voices of his master and the healer carried in from the common room once more.

= = = = = = = = = =

Qui-Gon walked out of the bedchamber cautiously, looking back as he reached the doorway to make sure Obi-Wan had settled down comfortably. The boy looked so weary, even as he gathered the blankets around his shoulders and gave Qui-Gon a small smile. After Kira had left the room, Qui-Gon had dialed the lights down again, and now the room was dim enough to not bother Obi-Wan. The illness has made him sensitive, Qui-Gon thought and shook his head. What he would not do to take this away from Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon left the door open, in case Obi-Wan needed him, and nodded to Kira as he headed toward the kitchen area. She followed him, placing her hand on his arm, not speaking until they stood in the circle of light next to the counter.

"He's going to be all right, Qui-Gon." She remarked carefully.

"I don't like seeing my padawan sick." Filling the teakettle, Qui-Gon looked away from Kira. She was going to tell him what was wrong with Obi-Wan whether he asked or not. "The cold's spread to his chest, hasn't it?"

"Yes, you were right about that. It's not bronchitis, but it will take a while for the congestion to loosen up. And you'll need to watch and see if his temperature gets any higher."

"Along with everything else."

"Try and get Obi-Wan to tell you if his throat starts to hurt any more, or his ears. He has a terrible cold, Qui-Gon. You can expect more of what you see now � sneezing, congestion, headache, cough, sore throat, fatigue."

"Everything else." A wry smile crossed his face. "So, rest, fluids, make sure he's warm enough and doesn't get bored spending so much time in bed?"

"That's about it. I'll give you something for the fever and a decongestant." Kira pushed her sleeves back from her wrists and took the cup of tea Qui-Gon offered her. "You've raised two padawans, you know what to do."

Qui-Gon released the sigh he had been keeping back. It certainly did not feel like he knew what to do. If he had known, his padawan would not be sneezing violently every few minutes. "I should have been more careful, more attentive."

Kira gave him a look � one he had seen all too often. Although she had not treated any of his padawans before Obi-Wan, that look had been directed at Qui-Gon himself enough times as he sat in her office. Her eyes flickered with impatience before she gave him a tolerant smile. "You expect to be able to fix something before it breaks. Qui-Gon, young people get sick. Everyone gets sick." She continued before he could say anything. "Everyone."

With a sigh Qui-Gon filled two more cups. He would have his tea with Obi-Wan. Explaining to Kira exactly how he felt about Obi-Wan being ill suddenly seemed very difficult. A mixture of guilt, responsibility and worry twisted inside his stomach when he thought about how his padawan was suffering. Just a cold. Well, Qui-Gon could not quite reconcile that simple phrase with the tired, sick look in Obi-Wan's eyes. He should have been able to prevent that from happening to Obi-Wan. The weak, but somehow still very bright, bond between him told him that he should have been able to protect Obi-Wan. Dumping honey into Obi-Wan's cup, then just one spoonful into his own, Qui-Gon held back another sigh. He took Kira's cup from her after she finished the tea, changing the subject before she asked for an explanation. "Thank you for coming up, you know I appreciate it."

"It's fine, Qui. I had some free time."

"I just didn't want to get Obi-Wan out of bed. My padawan, he's�" Qui-Gon's voice trailed off for a moment and he gave Kira a small smile. "He means a lot to me."

"I know, and I know you're worried. But he will be all right." Placing her hand on his arm, Kira nodded toward the bedchamber. "You go to Obi-Wan, I'll show myself out."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I am. Comm me if you need anything and get some rest, too, Qui-Gon."

Stopping before he picked up the mugs, Qui-Gon slid one of his hands over Kira's. It really was hard for him to tell her not only how he felt about Obi-Wan, but how much he appreciated her coming up. They had been friends for a few years, after Kira had healed the cracked ribs and blaster burns Qui-Gon had earned on a trip to Yavin III. But even now, after those scars had healed, Qui-Gon found it hard to expose the more delicate of his emotions to her. He looked down as he spoke. "Thank you again for seeing Obi-Wan. You didn't have to, and I'm grateful."

"You're welcome." Kira smiled when Qui-Gon looked back up, then bid him a quiet farewell. She did not turn around as she walked out of the rooms, but Qui-Gon watched her all the same.

He would thank her again when Obi-Wan recovered.

= = = = = = = = = =

"Should I drink all of it?"

Qui-Gon tried to hold back the smile that pulled at his mouth. Obi-Wan had taken the mug from him, inhaled the steam for a few minutes, then turned tired, glassy eyes to him. The mug was not that big, certainly, but Obi-Wan looked as if Qui-Gon had handed him a wine krater full of tea. Brushing his hand through Obi-Wan's hair, Qui-Gon steadied the cup as Obi-Wan took a sip. "Drink as much as you can. Aren't you thirsty, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan took another small sip, turned his head to cough, and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his tunic. "Sorry."

"Shh� it's all right." Qui-Gon took the cup away from Obi-Wan and helped him sit up more comfortably. He was not sure if it was the congestion or the talking that had made Obi-Wan cough. Either way, it would be better for him to stay up for a little longer, at least until he could take the medicine Kira left for him. Qui-Gon stroked his fingers through Obi-Wan's hair then over his forehead. He was still so warm. Leaning closer, Qui-Gon kissed the top of Obi-Wan's head and handed him a few tissues. "Take care of those sniffles before you drink any more tea."

A small 'yes, Master' got muffled by the tissues as Obi-Wan ducked his head. He blew his nose into the tissues twice, then paused, his face still buried in them. A few, quiet, shuddering breaths made his shoulders shake. "Ehh�CHmfff!! UfffCH! Keh-Chshh!" A series of painful sounding coughs followed the sneezes and it was more than a few seconds before Obi-Wan could raise his face from the handful of tissues. When he did, his eyes gleamed with tears. He opened his mouth to speak, but Qui-Gon shushed him before Obi-Wan got a word out.

"Bless. More tissues?" Qui-Gon handed them over as Obi-Wan nodded carefully. He did not need the Force to tell that the boy's eyes and nose were running terribly from the sneezes.

Obi-Wan took one of the tissues, wiped his eyes cautiously, and winced as he did so. He rubbed his nose with the same tissue. Lowering his hand to grab another one, Obi-Wan blinked fuzzily and raised the crumpled tissue to his face again. "Eishhh!Huh� Ehkkishhh!!" Sniffing through what sounded like a full nose, Obi-Wan plucked a clean tissue from the box. His fingers moved slowly, as if weary, and he prepared for another sneeze. "Ehh� Heh! HehKhsshh!! ISH! IhKishhooh! Eh-Shooh!"

"Bless you, Obi." Rubbing his palm in soothing circles over Obi-Wan's back, Qui-Gon drew his padawan closer to him. Cold and another uneven breath had made Obi-Wan's hands shake as he pressed another tissue to his nose. Seeing Obi-Wan tremble with cold bothered Qui-Gon more than the prospect of getting sneezed on a few more times.

"EHhiSHH!! Isshh! Sheiishh!" Weak sounding, the last set of sneezes had Obi-Wan slumping against Qui-Gon. He started to blow his nose but ended up huddling against Qui-Gon as a chill passed through his body.

This involuntary move of Obi-Wan's, the need to be warmed, touched Qui-Gon. A wave of tenderness overcame him, sweet and sad at the same time. It would have been so much better to realize this closeness in a different way. Qui-Gon, however, accepted this revelation from the Force with gratitude. No matter what, no matter how sick or injured or in need of help, his apprentice was a gift from the Force itself. Surrounding Obi-Wan with the gentle warmth of the Force, Qui-Gon settled on the bed. He would not be leaving even if Obi-Wan asked him to.

"Don't wanna be sick�" Obi-Wan mumbled, pulling away from Qui-Gon enough to talk. He sniffed miserably and rubbed his nose. "ehh� ISHH! uh� Nose itches, can't breathe� ahh� ehKISHH! ISH!" With a weary look, Obi-Wan sighed. His wrist scrubbed against his nose roughly, which led to another tired sigh. He almost looked unhappy when he took the cup of tea back from Qui-Gon. "Master� tastes awful�"

"Padawan." Qui-Gon had to work to sound stern. The pathetic tone of voice Obi-Wan had used on him nearly melted him inside. "Drink. You need to get more fluids in your system." Softening his voice, Qui-Gon took the cup away, wiped Obi-Wan's nose, then handed him the tea again. He had thought it would be easier to get Obi-Wan to take the medicine if it was in the tea. "It really will help, Obi-Wan, I wouldn't make you take it otherwise." Either the tone of his voice or the argument he used must have worked, for Obi-Wan quietly drank down the tea and medicine. Qui-Gon pulled the blankets up higher, making Obi-Wan as warm as he could, and gently patted his chest. "Once the medicine starts working, you'll be able to rest better."

Obi-Wan looked uncertain, but nodded anyway. He was getting cranky, and that was enough to let Qui-Gon know that his padawan was tired enough to want to sleep. Handing Qui-Gon a few used tissues Obi-Wan settled against the pillows. An annoyed look had Obi-Wan rubbing the back of his hand against his nose. "Not tired anymore."

"Just relax."

"Can't." A plaintive sniff. "My nose�" Another sniff, this one more anticipatory. "EhhKISHH!!" Obi-Wan sneezed loudly. He started to apologize, but his voice trailed off after the first word. "Ihh�ISH! HuhIshhoo! Heishh!!" Hesitant fingers crept out from under the blanket and Obi-Wan touched Qui-Gon's wrist. Obi-Wan nodded toward the tissues before turning his head to the side. "Hihhshhhoo! ughh�" The wretched sigh that came after the sneeze did more to indicate how tired Obi-Wan wan was than his former complaints had. Slowly taking a few tissues from the box, Obi-Wan sniffled and coughed.

"Blessings, my Obi. Poor thing." Qui-Gon stroked Obi-Wan's soft hair, murmuring as the boy blew his nose. He found himself continually drawn to comfort Obi-Wan, even if that meant only being able to sit here with him. There was little else Qui-Gon could do; he had not even bothered to ask Kira. Once again, he took the used tissues from Obi-Wan. "A little better?"

Obi-Wan nodded weakly. "Don't feel good, Master."

"I know, hush. After a few days of rest you'll feel much better." Another reassuring stroke of Qui-Gon's fingers through his hair calmed Obi-Wan down a bit. Qui-Gon put his arm around the boy and let Obi-Wan lean against him instead of the pillows. "Sleep, Obi-Wan, it's all right."

After a moment's hesitation, Obi-Wan relaxed. His small, warm hand sneaked out from the blanket and pressed against Qui-Gon's chest. "You'll stay again?"

"Shh, shhh� don't talk." The sound of the weary, hoarse voice made Qui-Gon wish that he and Obi-Wan had the strongest of bonds between them. Taken aback by the sense of longing, he realized that there were many times when Qui-Gon had wished he could tell what his padawan was feeling or thinking through their bond. There's enough time for that, Qui-Gon told himself. Gently covering Obi-Wan's hand with his own Qui-Gon settled himself more comfortably on the sleep couch. "I told you once before that I would stay with you as long as I had to. Of course I'll stay with you."

Obi-Wan was quiet for a while, his breathing the only sound in the room. It was louder than usual, and Qui-Gon still felt anxiety curl in his stomach each time Obi-Wan's breath would catch and set him coughing. The action seemed too violent for Obi-Wan's frame � strong, wrenching coughs that left him trembling and wheezing. If Qui-Gon could have melted the pain and congestion, thereby helping his padawan to both breathe and sleep more easily, he would have drawn on the Force for that ability in a second. His healing powers were strong, but not strong enough to do more than aid Obi-Wan in relaxing. The illness had progressed far enough that Qui-Gon was well near helpless in that area without a stronger bond. With a sigh, Qui-Gon silently scolded himself and forced himself to relax. He had better things to concentrate on that the weakness he was demonstrating.

"Master?"

Qui-Gon looked down. He knew Obi-Wan had not fallen asleep, but he did not expect the boy to be up to talking. "Yes, Obi-Wan?"

First a sniffle, then a stifled yawn preceded Obi-Wan's reply. "Didn't need the healer." He snuggled close to Qui-Gon and made a small sound of content.

"It may not have seemed like much, but you were lucky to have Kira come over to see you." Obi-Wan did not need to know how sick he was, but he should realize that seeing a healer was important. Qui-Gon rubbed the palm of his hand over Obi-Wan's arm. "I need you to get well again for me."

" 'mmbetter�" Obi-Wan mumbled against Qui-Gon's tunic front. "You're takin' care of me, not healer."

Oh, Force. If his padawan only knew how scared Qui-Gon was that he was not taking care of Obi-Wan. Or, at least, not as well as he believed Obi-Wan deserved. Kira had insisted that he knew what to do, having raised two padawans already. But everything felt different with Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon wanted to think that it was because he had waited so long to take on another apprentice. He knew it was more than that, though. Whatever it was, it lay just beyond his Force sense, intangible, but precious nonetheless. Qui-Gon would have to wait for the deepening of their bond to puzzle it out. He did know, however, that it meant they would have strong bond someday. Maybe that was all there was to it. Sighing, Qui-Gon kissed the top of Obi-Wan's head. A stronger bond. The idea was both exciting and intimidating. "Are you ready to get some sleep, Padawan?" A tiny nod was Obi-Wan's reply. "Then sleep, my Obi-Wan. I am taking care of you."

Obi-Wan's body relaxed against him, heavy with sleep. Sinking into a light meditative trance, Qui-Gon focused his mind on the fledgling bond he had with his padawan while his body rested. He might not have known exactly what to do for Obi-Wan, but Qui-Gon knew this was right. Reassured, Qui-Gon let peace wash over him and prepared to spend as many hours with his Obi-Wan as he could.

= = = = = = = = = =

At times slow, at times deliriously fast, the next few days passed by with a haze of sickness ever surrounding them for Obi-Wan. Between moments of feverish restlessness and uncomfortable wakefulness, Obi-Wan knew that he was safe and warm. Every time he woke up cold, thirsty, or upset, his master was there to take care of him. He had faint memories of cups of hot, sweet lemon tea and Qui-Gon's large, gentle hand on his back helping him sit up to drink. Or when he woke up coughing and sneezing, even when the bedchamber was dark as night, Qui-Gon was always at his side in moments to soothe him back to sleep. Warmth and safety � the two feelings never eluded Obi-Wan, no matter how ill he felt.

After two days of alternating between sleep and snatches of feverish hours of being awake, Obi-Wan woke up to a cold, driving rain. He felt better than he had a few days ago, thought the ache of fever and illness still remained in his bones. Outside the sun had risen behind a heavy cloud cover, making Coruscant look as if permanent evening had settled on the planet. Obi-Wan shifted, searched for the holocron in the dim room, and blinked back the sting in his tired eyes. The bed linens had tangled after being slept in for the past few days and impeded Obi-Wan as he tried to sit up in bed. It was well past noon � the third hour past, to be exact � Obi-Wan ascertained. He sat up carefully, leaning against the pillows at his back and clutching a blanket around his shoulders. For the first time in days he could sit up without a sick rush of dizziness spinning through his head. Obi-Wan still felt tired enough to ease his eyes shut. Breathing tentatively through a stuffy nose, he coughed lightly and covered his mouth with the edge of the blanket. The force of the action made his chest hurt. The ache was an old one, dull and constant, that flared up when he had to cough or sneeze. Obi-Wan supposed it would only fade when his cold was finally gone. A smile, happy despite his weariness, spread across Obi-Wan's face when he looked up from the bedcovers.

"You're awake again," Qui-Gon commented. He sat down on the edge of bed, close to Obi-Wan, and pressed his hand to Obi-Wan's forehead. "You're cooler, your temperature is probably close to normal. How do you feel, Padawan?"

"Better." Obi-Wan shrugged. The gentle touch of Qui-Gon's hand made him lean closer to the touch. Struggling a little, he reached out to put his arm around Qui-Gon. The effort, however, was useless. As soon as Qui-Gon noticed what Obi-Wan was doing, he shifted positions and sat next to Obi-Wan with his arm around his padawan. Obi-Wan snuggled into Qui-Gon with a mute thank you.

"I'm glad." A soft kiss stirred Obi-Wan's hair as Qui-Gon spoke. "Do you need or want anything?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. The only thing he would have wanted was for Qui-Gon to be near him; he already had just what he both needed and wanted. Sniffling, Obi-Wan crushed his face into the side of Qui-Gon's tunic. A few seconds later the presence of a sharp tingle in his nose forced Obi-Wan to look away from his master. Past the congestion that kept him from breathing normally was the tiny urge to sneeze. Expectant, the look on his face and the breath he drew in through his mouth both awaited the sneeze. Obi-Wan coughed after he breathed in again. The action took by surprise this time, as did the sneezes when they came a few seconds later.

"HehKISHHH!!! ISHHH! Huh�EpTishhoo! huh� ehh� Heh! Heh�HISHH!" Harshly made aware that the dizziness of the past few days had not completely cleared up, Obi-Wan groaned. His head spun, his throat ached, and his nose still tickled. The back of his hand pressed up against his nose and rubbed until he stilled with new anticipation. "HuhKishhoo! EtSChoo! Shhishh!Shoo! TishSHOO!"

"Bless you, Obi. All right?" Qui-Gon pulled him close again. He offered Obi-Wan a handkerchief, which Qui-Gon placed into Obi-Wan's hand when the boy nodded.

"EhhISH! Ahh�schoo! Schoo! Heh'choo!" Watery eyes and a running nose proved the necessity of the handkerchief. After the last few, smaller sneezes Obi-Wan blew his nose with relief. Even though a burst of painful coughing interrupted him � one that had Qui-Gon rubbing his back repeatedly � it felt wonderful to clear his nose and get some of the stuff out of it. "Still sneezey," Obi muttered and patted his nose with the handkerchief.

"You're sounding a lot better," his master replied with a smile. "Would you like something small to eat? Once you're finished, I can change the sheets in here, and you can nap in my room while I clean up. How does that sound?"

"Okay." Hesitancy marked Obi-Wan's answer. He kept the handkerchief close to his face. With a slight trembling, Obi-Wan snapped forward. "Ehh-shoo! Kishoo!"

"Bless! Time for your medicine, too, I think."

Obi-Wan groaned again, this time into the handkerchief. Food sounded fine, even if he was not terribly hungry. Qui-Gon would bring him something warm and easy to eat. But the mention of the bitter tasting medication made him shudder inside. Obi-Wan curled closer to Qui-Gon, trying to prevent him from rising. "Not too hungry, Master."

"I know." Qui-Gon spoke quietly. He had been doing that a lot lately and hint of understanding or love was always part of that quiet tone. A sigh ghosted from his lips, tickling Obi-Wan's hair, as he bent closer to Obi-Wan with a hug. "But you are still sick, and you need to get strong again." The embrace tightened, then Qui-Gon stood from the sleep couch. "Relax while I'm gone, Padawan. It shouldn't take me long."

The pout on Obi-Wan's face lasted only a couple of moments. It disappeared as Qui-Gon walked out the door. Flopping back against his pillows, Obi-Wan edged toward the spot where his master had been sitting. The warmth still lingered there, warmth that Obi-Wan missed already. The blankets and thermal sheets prevented him from getting chilled, but nothing was as nice as the heat Qui-Gon shared with him. Obi-Wan yawned, shivered, and yawned again. He was not really tired, or at least not tired enough to go to sleep. Eyes closed, handkerchief pressed to his nose, Obi-Wan snuggled into the pillows. For a few seconds. Then he changed position. And again, after a few more seconds. Getting truly comfortable again was harder than he had expected. First his nose got completely blocked, and then his back started to ache. The blankets were too hot, but if Obi-Wan pushed one of them back, shivers ran up and down his spine. He tried curling up into a ball, but his nose and throat started to itch. Sniffling led to clearing his throat, which led to a scratchy, sore feeling in his throat and chest and his nose still itched. With a miserable sound Obi-Wan pulled himself into a half-sitting position. The groan soon transformed into a helpless sigh.

"Ehh-Chishh! Ch'schoo! HehShoo!" Obi-Wan muffled the sneezes into his handkerchief, hoping to avoid the ticklish, burning feeling the last ones had set up in his sinuses. Half-stifling, however, just made him feel more itchy. "Ehh'tishoo! Tishih!" Stuffy, achy, tired, Obi-Wan just wanted to be able to shake the sick feeling. He gave his nose a quick blow before letting himself indulge in another pout. Now that he was recovering, he would be almost fully aware of how awful he felt.

"Still have that look on your face?"

Obi-Wan forced himself to smile. Qui-Gon walked into the room, a tray of breakfast food in his hands, and smiled back at his padawan. He sat down carefully, put the tray down, and ran his fingers through Obi-Wan's hair. He kept on stroking until he got a soft sigh and genuine grin from Obi-Wan.

"No need for you to sulk, my Obi-Wan; I wasn't gone that long. I'm back."

"Good." The vehemence with which he voiced that one word startled Obi-Wan. He had begun to inch closer to his master, hugging Qui-Gon close to him. Now, however, shyness overcame him and Obi-Wan moved away. How silly and strange of him to get so attached to Qui-Gon just because he had caught a cold.

"No, stay by me, Padawan."

"I'm all right, Master."

"Obi-Wan." The warm, comforting weight of Qui-Gon's arm surrounded Obi-Wan's shoulders. "You aren't the only one who likes to cuddle up like this."

The sound of Qui-Gon's words was almost as reassuring as the look on his face. It was all that Obi-Wan needed to accept the unvoiced offer. Rubbing his nose into the sleeve of his sleep tunic, Obi-Wan pushed back the shyness he could still feel. He was not simply taking when he sat snuggled up next to Qui-Gon. He was giving, too, even if it was only the comfort of sitting together. Happiness sung through Obi-Wan � even when he was not ill Qui-Gon would want to hug him or comfort him. When he reached out to Qui-Gon over their training bond, Obi-Wan felt more happiness well up inside him. The contact did not make him dizzy or confused.

"That felt good," he uttered, disbelief in his voice this time. A wave of affection washed over him as Qui-Gon returned the touch. Content, Obi-Wan reclined against his master. "Does it always feel like that?"

"Hush. Here, drink this and rest your throat." Qui-Gon handed over a mug of tea. He waited until Obi-Wan had taken a few sips, then took it away when a case of the sniffles bothered Obi-Wan. "Our bond will grow more deep with time, and more subtle. But yes, it will always feel nice."

Obi-Wan took a tissue from the box Qui-Gon offered him. Blowing his nose only made his ears pop this time, so he settled for rubbing it and getting rid of the sniffly feeling as best he could. The runny nose did not distract him from his main concern, annoying as it was. Obi-Wan could not stop thinking about how new and wonderful it felt to be close to his master. Throughout the first few weeks of his apprenticeship he had remained shy and uncertain when he was with Qui-Gon. Things like his courses or the training sessions Qui-Gon put him through were easy to figure out. Or, no, it was easier to figure out what he was doing wrong or right in those situations. When it came to figuring out how to act with or towards Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan had been at a loss. It had seemed so difficult.

He had been wrong. It was easy � his master was so easy to love. Letting go of the insecurity was still hard, but the reward was well worth it. "Good," he said again, and smiled at Qui-Gon. A bowl of warm Tanaabian rice pudding, more tea and the prospect of a nap in Qui-Gon's bed kept him smiling throughout most of his meal. When he handed his mug back to Qui-Gon one last time, Obi-Wan glanced at the window. The wind had whipped another sheet of rain at the transparisteel and water blurred the pane.

"Do you think it's going to keep raining?" Obi-Wan asked drowsily. He would have to make sure he stayed awake long enough to ask for a sonic shower and change of sleep clothes if he was going to nap on his master's bed.

"Hmm�" Qui-Gon looked down at Obi-Wan, then over to the window. "I think we've gotten through the worst of the storm."

"That's good?"

"That's very good."

= = = = = = = = = =

Qui-Gon brushed his hands over the sheet one more time before moving away from the bed. It had not been that difficult to get Obi-Wan to move, or at least, not as difficult as he had thought it would be. The promise of a sonic shower and nap afterwards must have had something to do with. Taking the pillows and arranging them in the way Obi-Wan liked best, Qui-Gon finished tidying up Obi-Wan's room. He would rest easier now that the bed linens had been changed and fresh, clean blanket had been placed on the bed. Although Obi-Wan was getting better, it would be a few days before he would able to go without napping for a few hours. Qui-Gon clicked the light in Obi-Wan's room off and walked back towards his own bedchamber, stopping to get a glass of juice for Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan was curled up in a small ball, one of Qui-Gon's blankets wrapped tightly around his body as he hugged one of the pillows on the bed. For a moment Qui-Gon stood in the doorway and gazed as his padawan. The first few days � or even weeks � they had been together, Qui-Gon had not really realized how young Obi-Wan was. Part of him had expected Obi-Wan to be a smaller, less experienced version of a Jedi Knight. The wide-eyed wonder with which youth views the galaxy he had forgotten. It had been years since Qui-Gon had an apprentice; it had been many years since he had such a young apprentice. But now, watching Obi-Wan rest quietly on his bed, Qui-Gon had to shake his head and ask himself how he ever thought such things. Obi-Wan was young. He needed someone to watch over him yet, to take care of him when he was ill like this. But then, Qui-Gon thought as he sat down carefully on the bed, perhaps we all need that from time to time. He placed the glass on the bed table before turning to his padawan.

"Don't you want to sleep?" Qui-Gon asked as Obi-Wan blinked tiredly a few times. He slipped his hand over Obi-Wan's short hair, catching his fingers in the longer strands of hair. "Or shall I do up your braid first?"

"Oh�" Obi-Wan yawned, burying his head in the pillow for a few seconds before looking with a sleepy expression on his face. " 'mallright�"

A quiet laugh and shake of his head were all Qui-Gon could manage. "Oh, Obi-Wan. Come here, then." Obi-Wan hesitated. A confused replaced the sleepy one on his face, but he neared his master as Qui-Gon patted his lap. Qui-Gon threaded his fingers through Obi-Wan's hair and carefully separated the strands that made up his braid. "You want to look like a proper padawan, don't you?"

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan looked up with the ever-present glint of determination in his eyes. It was strong enough to show despite the glassy, tired dullness there.

"There will be very few times when you'll want to have your braid unbound."

Obi-Wan nodded slowly as Qui-Gon spoke. Before Qui-Gon started to plait his hair, Obi-Wan turned to rub his nose into his shoulder. Although he had pushed the blanket off his body partially when he sat up, Obi-Wan's hands were still tucked into the cover. Rubbing his nose and sniffling quietly, he avoided taking them out and gathered the blanket closer to him.

"Do you need a tissue first?" Qui-Gon's fingers left Obi-Wan's hair to rub his neck gently.

Another small nod. Obi-Wan sniffled again and took a short breath, which he held as hid eyes fluttered shut. He seemed to fight and overcome the urge to sneeze for couple of seconds. Then in one sudden movement, his breath gasping sharply and shoulders shuddering, Obi-Wan curled away from Qui-Gon's hand as it offered him the tissues. "EhhKihhSHH!Ishoo!"

Murmuring quiet, comforting words, Qui-Gon handed Obi-Wan the tissues. The small shudder that passed through his own body at the sound of the sneezes was easy enough to disguise, but the uncomfortable feeling that remained was harder to get rid of. Those sneezes seemed too loud and harsh for such a small body. Poor Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon sighed to himself and rested the palm of his hand on Obi-Wan's back. He could practically feel the pain that settled in his padawan's throat and chest when Obi-Wan groaned.

"Huh�Ishh! Hishhoo! Ekkshhh!!" The muscles under Qui-Gon's hands relaxed. At least those sneezes had not sounded like they were torn from Obi-Wan's chest. A tiny sniffling noise followed the last sneeze, more like a whimper than anything else. Obi-Wan had covered his nose and mouth with his tissues and his shoulders had curved slightly with a small intake of breath. "Hiihh.. EhTIHshih! ISH! ihhhishhIH! IhhSHIhh!! Ehhh�SHOO!!"

"Bless you."

"EHhISHH! HuhShoo! hehh! ahh� thanks." Obi-Wan mumbled into the tissues and took a shaky breath. One tissue, then another, and after that another handful of tissues he accepted from Qui-Gon to blow his nose. The process of blowing his nose, stopping to cough into a closed fist as soon as he finished or sneeze convulsively into the tissues tired Obi-Wan. The slump of his shoulders and resigned look in his eyes spelled that out clearly enough. "Sorry," Obi-Wan muttered and pressed a dry tissue to his nose, "my braid, Master?"

The way Obi-Wan mustered up the determination again nearly made Qui-Gon laugh aloud this time. But with relief. Even as Obi-Wan grew better and stronger, Qui-Gon could not get rid of the feeling that he should be doing more for his padawan. "Are you sure you don't just want to lie down and rest?" Qui-Gon smoothed Obi-Wan's hair back. The sonics had made it soft and clean feeling, softer than a soap and water shower did.

"Not really."

"No, Padawan?" It was odd how much Qui-Gon liked running his hand over Obi-Wan's hair. The gesture soothed Obi-Wan, but it reassured Qui-Gon. He could do something for his padawan and the protective feeling it gave Qui-Gon felt good inside. "You can lie down here, relax?"

"Qui-Gon? My braid, please, I want," Obi-Wan turned cough harshly, "want to look like a padawan. Your padawan."

"Shhh, you do, you do, my Obi-Wan." With a gentle shove, Qui-Gon brought Obi-Wan closer to him so that he leaned against Qui-Gon. He could plait Obi-Wan's braid from the position and make sure the boy was not too cold. "You look very much like my padawan."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Qui-Gon sifted the strands of auburn hair through his fingers one last time and started to braid. "Your braid is already a bit longer. It'll be down to your waist before I know it."

Obi-Wan made an uncertain noise. He glanced up at Qui-Gon, about to say something, but cupped both hands over his face first. "ehh� eh! ehpTihshh!Ishhih� Ehshhooh!!" The sneezes followed each other quickly, barely giving Obi-Wan the space to take a breath. When he did, it turned into a fit of coughing.

"Force, Obi, calm down." Giving Obi-Wan some space and time to breathe was difficult as Qui-Gon wanted to take the boy into his arms and comfort Obi-Wan. Instead of giving into his instincts at that very moment, Qui-Gon waited for Obi-Wan's breathing to even out. When it did, he quickly finished Obi-Wan's short braid and pulled Obi-Wan into a loose hug. "Just calm down, Padawan. No," he pressed one finger to Obi-Wan's lips, "don't talk. Just rest."

Reaching toward the juice on the bedside table, Obi-Wan tried to lean past his master. Another small coughing spasm drew him back. His thin shoulders strained with the effort and Obi-Wan curled further in on himself with each harsh cough. Another few minutes passed, made up of hesitant breaths on Obi-Wan's part and gentle words and touches on Qui-Gon's. Finally Obi-Wan was able to sip from the glass of juice.

"Slowly, good. Now, take a slow breath," Qui-Gon spoke softly and held the glass for Obi-Wan. The first sip of juice had made Obi-Wan shiver though it had not been cold when Qui-Gon first brought it into the bedchamber for him to drink. He had feared the shivering would send Obi-Wan into a paroxysm of sneezing or coughing, but his padawan's breathing remained calm. He sighed softly when Qui-Gon took away the empty glass.

"I'm okay." Replying to Qui-Gon's wary look, Obi-Wan smiled. He started to sit up on his own.

"You can still rest here," Qui-Gon said and pulled Obi-Wan back toward him. No reason to send the boy back to his own room just yet. Qui-Gon had enough reading material in his room to keep him busy and the change of scenery was good for Obi-Wan.

"Are you sure?"

Qui-Gon nodded. Even if he could not afford the few hours of rest with his padawan, he would still not have been able to refuse Obi-Wan this time together. After fetching another blanket for Obi-Wan and a datapad for himself, Qui-Gon settled back down on the bed. Obi-Wan curled up next to him, head resting on Qui-Gon's chest. His breathing was marked by congestion, but soft and even. No difficulties save the occasional quiet sneeze and the shy way Obi-Wan would blow his nose. But the constant sniffles were tolerable, even a relief, compared to the wracking coughs Obi-Wan had been suffering through. After the first few minutes, Qui-Gon was able to ignore them and read through the galactic news feeds he had downloaded onto a datacard. He did not, however, block out the easy pace of Obi-Wan's breathing and how it had easily matched his own. The same quiet rise and fall of his chest, the same space between inhalation and exhalation. It was soothing, to say the least. When his hand drifted down to rub Obi-Wan's back through that blanket, Qui-Gon smiled to himself. He could not help but care for this little one.

"Master?" The voice was small and uncertain that came from the area of his chest. Obi-Wan's face pressed into Qui-Gon's tunics; he nuzzled closer as Qui-Gon stroked his back. "Why would I want my braid undone?"

Clicking off his datapad, Qui-Gon considered for a moment. He had expected Obi-Wan to be asleep by the time he finished one of the reports, but after having gotten through three of them, his padawan was still awake. Not only awake, but asking questions. Either he is getting better, Qui-Gon thought, or I bore him to death.

"It won't happen often," Qui-Gon sighed and fingered Obi-Wan's braid lightly, "but there might come a time when you won't want to indicate your rank in the order. You might even be asked, on a mission, to get rid of any indication that you are a Jedi."

"But," Obi-Wan sniffled, "no! I can't." His fingers reached up to touch his braid. "Worked so hard�"

"I know. The situation may never arise, Obi-Wan." Leaning close, Qui-Gon kissed the top of Obi-Wan's head. "You'll always be a Jedi, always be my padawan with or without the right haircut or clothing. These are only outer signs."

"Yes, Master."

Qui-Gon considered saying something more, but decided against it. Obi-Wan understood what he was talking about, but was reluctant to accept it. That braid and what it symbolized meant the galaxy to Obi-Wan. Minutes later, after Qui-Gon had clicked the pad on again and Obi-Wan had quieted down, Qui-Gon felt a warm touch to the back of his hand.

"Master?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon looked down as he answered. Sleep was starting to weigh down on Obi-Wan.

"Thank you for doing my padawan braid."

"You're welcome. Always. Now, I think you can rest a bit. If you don't have any more questions?"

"Oh," Obi-Wan yawned and rubbed his nose, "no more questions."

"Fine." Qui-Gon ran his hand over Obi-Wan's hair and down his braid. Something told him that it would be much harder to imagine his padawan without the braid than with one that reached past Obi-Wan's waist.

= = = = =

It would never reach down to his waist. Obi-Wan frowned and tugged on his braid again. He was loath to undo it, even after his bath, since it was Qui-Gon who had plaited it for him last. His master knew how to do his braid just right � tight enough and straight, so it did not get all frazzled looking. With a sigh, Obi-Wan patted his braid. He was proud of himself. Not only had Qui-Gon proclaimed him healthy enough to have a bath instead of a sonic shower, his master had also felt confident enough that Obi-Wan was getting better to leave him alone for a short period of time. While his master went down to provisions, Obi-Wan ate lunch and took his bath. Just a few days ago he would have been ready to sink down into a feverish slumber. Now, although the congestion in his head had not cleared completely, Obi-Wan was able to stay awake for a good part of the day. Qui-Gon would make him rest before dinner, Obi-Wan mused, and took the box of tissues from the 'fresher into the common room.

Flopping down on the couch, he pulled out a handful of tissues. Ever since he took the bath, Obi-Wan's nose had a warm, tingly sort of feeling that kept making him want to sneeze, but was not strong enough to actually get him sneezing. Obi-Wan held the tissues to his nose, took a breath, and held it with anticipation. The tingling sensation reached back into his sinuses, even extending to his ears and throat. The longer Obi-Wan waited, the more he felt like he had to cough, in addition to sneeze. Finally just giving up, he put the tissues down, rubbed his nose in frustration and coughed lightly. The action just made his nose itch more. Sniffling, then rubbing his nose again, Obi-Wan shook his head. It felt like something buzzing and tickling his senses, neither strong enough to be relieved by any of his actions, nor weak enough to go unnoticed. Obi-Wan leaned against the couch cushion and breathed in slowly. Another breath had his nose itching again and his eyes watering. Before he could raise a tissue to his face the feeling rushed through him anew.

"ISHH!! Tishhhoo! Ehh�k'SHOO! IshhHOO!" The sneezes pitched him forward and Obi-Wan managed to take a few breaths, anticipating more, and bury his face in the tissues. "EhhKISHH! Chshhih! Hehh�Esshhnn!" The feeling of relief that spread through Obi-Wan was momentary and soon replaced by the annoying need to blow his nose. He could not breathe clearly as the congestion started to break up, turning each tentative inhalation into a sniffle. With a disgusted noise, Obi-Wan started blowing his nose. He was in the middle of his third handful of tissues when he looked to see his master walk in the door.

Qui-Gon smiled at him, brushed a hand over Obi-Wan's hair, and walked into the kitchen area with his parcels. By the time he returned, Obi-Wan was finished and rubbing his finger over his nostrils. They were sore and raw feeling from what felt like a constant state of the sniffles.

"You're still awake, my little one?" Qui-Gon sat down next to him on the couch. He unclipped his saber, put it down on a table, and slid his belt off.

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan sniffled. He wrinkled his nose against another tickle. Again, he grabbed a few tissues and pressed them to his face. "HepTISHH! Ishhhah! Heh�Shahh!"

"Bless you." The weight of Qui-Gon's hand steadied Obi-Wan's back as he cleared his nose. "Still sneezing, too. Hm."

"Not so bad, Master." The reassuring tone Obi-Wan was aiming at got lost in a series of pre-sneeze gasps. Not thinking to get a clean tissue, he held both hands to his face, cupping them over his nose and mouth. "hihhh�eh! HISHH!! EkkSHH! KehShoooh!!" His nose felt just as sore as he rubbed into his fingers, sniffling, as it did when he wiped with a tissue. Wincing, Obi-Wan accepted the handkerchief Qui-Gon handed to him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. It sounds like you could use time to rest."

Obi-Wan shrugged. After wiping his nose and sniffing to clear it, he turned to Qui-Gon. "I'm not really that sleepy."

A skeptical look was his master's reply.

"Truly, Master." Obi-Wan smiled. The tired look still lingered in his eyes; he knew that from the last time he examined himself in the mirror. His skin had that weird paleness to it, too. But the weariness he felt would not lead him to sleep just yet. A saber duel was not in his near future, either, but Obi-Wan felt well enough to stay awake until evening meal was done. Taking a chance, he rested one hand on Qui-Gon's arm and raised his eyes to his master. "Were you going to meditate this afternoon?"

Qui-Gon's eyes widened with surprise for moment. He did not say anything immediately and the surprise remained in his eyes when he smiled and put his arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders. "I hadn't really thought about it, no."

"But maybe,' Obi-Wan sniffled quietly, "maybe if I went to sleep, you would?"

"Maybe."

"Ah."

The arm tightened around Obi-Wan's shoulders. "Why, Padawan?"

"If I'm not going to sleep, and you want to meditate, maybe I could just stay with you? And meditate too?" Obi-Wan tried to get the words out as quickly as possible. It had not seemed like such a bad idea when he thought of it, but as he asked Qui-Gon, he could feel the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment. How stupid his master must think him at times. Obi-Wan hid his expression behind a tissue as he wiped his nose. "But it's not important, Master."

"Would you like that Obi-Wan? To meditate with me?" The arm around his shoulders hugged Obi-Wan close to Qui-Gon. When Obi-Wan nodded, Qui-Gon loosened the embrace and placed one finger under Obi-Wan's chin to tip his head up. "If you would like to, then it is important. I would he honored to share my meditation with you. It can only be for a short time; you aren't well yet, and I want you to rest as much as possible."

"Yes, Master Qui-Gon." The humiliation that Obi-Wan was prepared to feel melted inside him when Qui-Gon smiled.

"All right. Go get yourself a blanket, in case you get chilled." Qui-Gon rose from the couch and helped Obi-Wan up. He smiled again and patted Obi-Wan on the head before he walked back to his bedchamber.

Obi-Wan gathered up one of the extra blankets from his bed. He looked at it uncertainly; he was already clad in a heavy weight tunic and sleep pants. He had even put on a pair of socks since he was not planning on spending the whole day in bed. Folding up the blanket haphazardly, Obi-Wan decided it was best to not argue with his master on such a small point. Especially after Qui-Gon had spent the whole week taking care of him. A persistent sniffle and the beginnings of a tickle in his sinuses reminded Obi-Wan why Qui-Gon had been spending so much time looking after him. With a frustrated sigh, Obi-Wan brought the handkerchief he still held onto up to his nose. He blew a few times, trying to get the tickle out, but soon enough realized that it just was not going to go away. A few expectant breaths helped coax the tickle into the urge to sneeze.

"hih! hehiih� HihTISH! ihSHH! IhhShoo!" The first few sneezes did little more than tell Obi-Wan that this feeling really was not going to go away any time soon. He sat down on the edge of his sleep couch, eyes closed and tears pricking at corners of his eyes. "HUhISHhih!! IhhCHSHH!! Hushoo! Huh� ISH!Ishhhoo!! T'shoo!" His chest hurt a little from the sneezing, not as much as the coughing made it ache, but enough for Obi-Wan to groan softly into the handkerchief. Obi-Wan coughed softly to clear his throat. A sharp breath followed directly after. "Ehh! Choo! Ehhishh!! Huh�tihSHOO! Ehshh! Ishh, Ishhihh, ehhISH-shoo!" Sneezing helplessly, Obi-Wan curled in on himself. After the sneezes, he had to blow his nose, and then cough out the irritation in his throat and lungs, wipe his eyes and nose again, and finally take a slow, calming breath. Fits like this led Obi-Wan to doubt just how much better he really was. He felt worn out and weakened by this small exertion.

Not weary enough, Obi-Wan assured himself, to give up his desire to meditate with his master. He stood from the bed, waited for the sudden dizziness to leave his head, and rubbed his nose. It would not be so bad if his head were not so stuffed up. Sometimes, like when he finished sneezing like that, it still felt like he was breathing through concrete. Padding into his master's room, Obi-Wan made sure he did not sniffle and smiled at Qui-Gon as he placed the blanket next to the low table.

"I was starting to worry that you changed your mind." Qui-Gon lit a candle on the table. Opening his arms, he gestured for Obi-Wan to come sit near him.

Obi-Wan flushed. "Sorry. I was sneezing a lot, and didn't want to�"

"Shh, it's all right. In that case, bless you. Come here, Obi-Wan."

"Shouldn't we kneel?" Obi-Wan asked quietly and settled down on the floor. Qui-Gon sat on his meditation mat and pulled Obi-Wan close so that his back rested against Qui-Gon's chest. It was warm and comforting. He could almost feel his master's heart beat.

"Usually, yes. But I think sitting together is best for now. Are you all right with this?"

"Yes."

"Good." Qui-Gon's hands rested on his shoulders. "I'll lead into us both into a simple meditation. Don't worry; if you don't feel well, I'll know. We'll be very close during this time."

Obi-Wan agreed quietly. In a matter of seconds he felt the peace of Qui-Gon's Force aura. All things he associated with his master � patience, kindness, gentleness, wisdom, experience, and other more vague qualities he had yet to identify � were present in Qui-Gon's aura. The warmth traveled over their bond, making it brighter and more clear for Obi-Wan. It was the kind of warmth he could sink himself into and never feel lost as he did so. Qui-Gon made it easy for Obi-Wan to let go of the physical world and momentarily just concentrate of the life force.

The meditation his master had chosen was simple. The flame of a candle, like the one that burned on the table near them, and how, although it was mere fire, it held all the colors of light. Therein lay its strength. Not just in the pure, blue center where the flame was the hottest. Or in the brilliant dancing orange and yellow lights, which leapt to the ceiling as the candle burned. But an amalgam of all those colors gave the fire its strength. An examination of each color first, then of the flame as a whole, and finally of each color again, as it related to the whole.

As Obi-Wan rose from the light meditative trance, it was not the actual subject of their meditation that held his interest. Instead, it was the smooth, easy way that he was able to communicate with his master during that short period of time. It felt like he really belonged with Qui-Gon. All the insecurities he had about being a padawan learner in the warm, protective embrace of his master. His mind flashed back to the episode in the locker room, when he first felt Qui-Gon touch their bond. This felt similar, more subtle, but just as good. Obi-Wan wanted to feel that all the time.

"When the bond is stronger," Qui-Gon whispered, "you'll feel it all the time. I promise."

Obi-Wan turned in his master's arms, looking up to see the soft smile on Qui-Gon's face. "I promise, too, Master."

= = = = =

Qui-Gon stood outside the star map room and bit back the urge to start pacing. It had been with the utmost reluctance that he let Obi-Wan go his astronomy module today. He knew that the class was one of Obi-Wan's favorites and that being forced to stay inside for most of the week had been dull for his padawan. The weather had finally cleared up and the evening sky was a brilliant dark blue. Between the glitter of the night sky and Obi-Wan's pleas, he was helpless. Obi-Wan went to class, but only after Qui-Gon had decided he was dressed warmly enough and had something hot to eat.

Glancing at the door, then at his holocron, and back again to the door, Qui-Gon sighed. He would be waiting for Obi-Wan to come through some door until the end of his apprenticeship at this rate. Worrying was futile and besides, the night was beautiful indeed. The week of rain and ice had left the planet a bit cleaner, the air a bit crisper. The star map room was not on one of the highest points on Coruscant, yet the view offered by the balconies that surrounded it were still breathtaking. Qui-Gon spent enough time admiring the view that the padawan class had cleared the star map room by the time he turned around to see what the time was once more.

Obi-Wan walked up to him, a grin on his face and light in his eyes. The same tinge of shyness still kept the expression from being totally open, but the enthusiasm was unmistakable. When his padawan grabbed his hand, Qui-Gon could not help but hold it tight and let Obi-Wan start to tell him about the wonders of the moons surrounding Yavin. After a few paces, Obi-Wan pulled him back to the balcony, reassuring Qui-Gon that he only wanted to stand there a few seconds.

As they walked along the balcony and Obi-Wan attempted to look for Yavin in the night sky, Qui-Gon placed a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. The weather had cleared up nicely and it would be a shame not to see that starlight reflected in his Obi-Wan's bright eyes. His padawan, his bright flame.

"Can you show me where Yavin is?" Qui-Gon looked over Obi-Wan's shoulder and followed his gaze.

"Now, I don't think I'll ever actually go there, and if we get a mission there, Master, try and say no, because it's a gas giant, and I don't think there would be enough air for us to breathe�"

Yes, Qui-Gon sighed, squinting his eyes and looking up into the night sky. Very much his bright, strong flame.

 

 

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