One of the first things taught in the creche is how unimportant physical possessions are, for those blessed with the ultimate gift of the Force.  Obi-Wan had rarely given gifts during his life and never expected to receive them -- so that first strange delivery was as surprising to him as it was unsettling.

On that particular day he'd been assisting Master Lehto with a beginner's class in lightsaber technique and it had ended a little early, so he took the opportunity to drop into the Temple Mail Center to check for mail. Though most correspondence was electronic, occasionally a physical letter or package arrived for Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon.  Obi-Wan found nothing in the small slot assigned to him and his Master, but the young man on duty in the mailroom handed him a medium sized box. 

"Package for you, Padawan Kenobi.  It just arrived."

"Thank you, Dorin," he replied, accepting the parcel, making a point of not looking at it in public: it was probably for Qui-Gon and none of his business.

Once back in his quarters, He was about to drop the package onto Qui-Gon's bed when he noticed the label -- it wasn't for his Master, it was addressed to him.  How odd – he hadn’t ordered anything, and if it had to do with a mission, it should have been addressed to Qui-Gon or to both of them. 

Curiosity overcame him, and he found himself slicing through the package bindings with a small utility knife.  Inside was some synthetic stuffing and another package covered with expensive goldfoil wrapping paper.  Obi-Wan carefully tore open the thick paper to reveal the contents.  It was a book - an old-fashioned book, bound in leather, centuries old by the look of it.  He flipped it open – verses were scribed on the parchment in flowing, cursive writing.  Poems.  Page after page of love poems.

He hated poetry. 

There was no return address; no note of any kind accompanied the book. Obi-Wan scanned his memory for clues to whom might have sent this to him, but couldn't think of anyone.  He searched the package for some clue of whom it might have come from.  Nothing. 

He sensed Qui-Gon approaching their quarters.  Bad timing.  He had no desire to spend the night deflecting questions from his stubborn Master about his love life, or lack of love life, as was the case, and if Qui-Gon saw the gift. . . Obi-Wan rushed to his room, tossed the book, the empty box, and the stuffing into his closet and palmed the door shut.  Satisfied there was no trace of the gift or wrapping, Obi-Wan went to the common room just in time to see Qui-Gon enter. 

He decided to choose a subject that would distract them both for the duration of the evening.  "Good evening, Master.  Have you heard about the council decision to suspend negotiations on Ridelle VI?"

Qui-Gon frowned. Obviously, he had.  "And what do you think of that decision, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan sat down on the couch in their living area.  "Leaving them to their own devices will only make delay the treaty and increase chances they'll break out into violence."

"True," replied Qui-Gon, taking the seat next to Obi-Wan's.  "But what would you do if you if it was your decision to make?"

A smile slowly spread across Obi-Wan's face.  Qui-Gon was baiting him, inviting him to debate.  It had been far too long since the last time they spent the evening deliberating a topic like this.  Obi-Wan carefully selected his next answer, knowing Qui-Gon would automatically take the opposite position, just for sport. 

Poetry book forgotten, their conversation continued past dinner, well into the night. 

Obi-Wan finished his duties early the next day, and decided to return to the mailroom. 

"Dorin, you gave me a package yesterday . . . "

"Kenobi, yes!  I remember."  Dorin reached behind him and took a small box from the conveyer.  "Here's another one." 

Obi-Wan took the package.  No return address visible on this one either.  "Thank you.  Is there any record of who might have sent this?"

"Oh, no - they were sent anonymously."

"Anonymously?"

"You know, when the sender doesn't want the receiver to know who sent it?"

"Yes, thank you," replied Obi-Wan dryly, no longer wondering why Dorin never found a master.  "Do you happen know who sent it?"  It was a longshot that Dorin knew anything, but one couldn't underestimate the power of gossip. 

"Me?  No!  The package just showed up with the rest of the mail."

"Did it show up with the on-planet mail, or off-planet mail?"  Obi-Wan was growing impatient – Qui-Gon would be home soon. 

"Hmmmm, let me think.  It came after my first break, but before lunch, and there was no special delivery yesterday or today.  On-planet mail.  Yes, definitely from Coruscant."

"Thank you, Dorin.  Good day," said Obi-Wan, rushing out of the mailroom, back to his quarters. 

So, it was someone on Coruscant then, probably someone from the temple.  What little time he and Qui-Gon spent on Coruscant was used for training, research on missions, and other Jedi duties.  They might venture outside the temple for an occasional meal, but never had the chance to form friendships.  Or attract admirers. 

Home at last, Obi-Wan was relieved Qui-Gon wasn't there yet.  He sliced open the package – inside was more stuffing, and another box, carefully wrapped in the same gold foil paper. In the box were three beads, carved from rare blue Naja Lapis, designed to fasten into a padawan's braid.  They were beautiful.  Obi-Wan blushed, unaccustomed to such finery. 

There was a note tucked in the box, and he pulled it out carefully.  "These trinkets will pale in comparison to your lovely eyes, yet I will be honored if you choose to grace my gift by wearing them."

Obi-Wan's blush deepened.  Lovely?  No one had ever called him lovely before.   'And why would they?' he wondered, shaking his head.  He was fit, strong in the Force, and an excellent warrior, but saw no reason why anyone would comment on his looks.  He laughed, sliding the beads back in the box, storing them in his small closet. 

So who thought he was lovely?  One of his padawan friends?  Rythel, Valerin, or J'yveck?  No, not a chance; besides, none of them could afford gifts like these.  Someone else then, who he didn't know, perhaps one of the knights or masters?  Even more ridiculous. 

His own Master?

His hand reached for the red band behind his ear – the one Qui-Gon had given him when he first braided Obi-Wan's hair.  He blushed again.  That moment had been meaningful, and not just because it was the first physical indicator he was a Jedi Padawan.  He remembered Master Jinn deftly braiding a lock of his own hair into Obi-Wan's as if it happened an hour ago.  He could still feel his new Master's fingers occasionally brushing against his ear, and telling him what it meant to be a Jedi.

Obi-Wan was still fingering his braid, lost in thought, when Qui-Gon entered their quarters. 

"Padawan?"

"Sorry, Master," he said, jumping up to take Qui-Gon's robe.  "Just reminiscing."

Qui-Gon gave him an indulgent smile and handed Obi-Wan some holodisks.  "Information for our next mission.  We should start going over it tonight.  We’re to leave in just a few days."

Qui-Gon set a small, plainly wrapped package on the kitchen table.  "What's that?" asked Obi-Wan.  "More about the mission?" 

"Ah, no, it's tea, the Gu Zhang tea you usually buy.  I noticed you were running low this morning, and didn't want you to go without."

"Thank you."  Obi-Wan replied warmly, pleased because Gu Zhang tea was one of his few luxuries. 

"Why don't you load up the holoprojectors while I make some of this?" suggested Qui-Gon.

"Yes, Master," he replied with a smile, settling in for a long evening of work.

Obi-Wan went out of his way to get to the mailroom the next day.  Dorin wasn't on duty, but the young woman at the desk brightened when he walked up. 

"Padawan Kenobi," she said huskily, in a way that unnerved Obi-Wan.  "Package for you."

He took the package; it was rather large this time.  There was no way he could hide this under his robe or be inconspicuous with it.

"Smells like chocolates," she said, holding the package up to her nose and taking a deep sniff.  "Who's the lucky girl?

"Huh?" he replied.  Girl?  Girl? It hadn't crossed his mind that it could be anyone other than another man! Now that he stopped to think about it, it really was more likely that the gifts were from a woman – at least statistically.

He groaned to himself.  If it were a woman, he'd never discover her identity, not until it was too late to save both of them from embarrassment, anyway.  He doubted if he'd even notice if a woman found him attractive.  Mumbling a reply to Dorin's replacement, he exited the mailroom as quickly as possible, and went immediately to his quarters. 

Back in his room, Obi-Wan opened the package.  Chocolates.  The very finest, from a highly renowned candy maker on Alderaan.  Well, whoever was sending him these gifts didn't seem to know him very well.  He didn't much care for chocolate, or sweets of any sort.  Packing the chocolates back up, he stuffed them in his closet, which was getting rather messy.  He'd clean it out later, he told himself, after the mission.

The next day was due to spent packing and briefing for their upcoming mission.  At midmorning, the door chime sounded.

"I'll answer that," volunteered Obi-Wan.

It was Dorin, the mailroom worker.

"A package came for you last night, and I knew you wouldn't have time to pick it up this morning because of your mission, and it was marked delicate…"

"Shhhhh."  Obi-Wan stepped outside his quarters and pulled Dorin with him.  "My Master doesn't know about them."

Dorin frowned.  "Why not?  Does he forbid you from seeing anyone?  And even if he does, he can't object to this.  It's not your fault someone's sending you…"

"Hush!  He'll hear.  Just give me the package and go!"  Obi-Wan took the box, gave Dorin a little Force push, and stepped back inside.  He closed the door behind him, not noticing the puzzled and slightly hurt look on Dorin's face.

"Who was that?" asked Qui-Gon as he stepped out of his bedroom.

"No one, Master," he said, sliding the package into the sleeve of his tunic.  "It was just the mail boy.  He had the wrong address."

"I see," answered Qui-Gon, frowning.  He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but instead turned around and went back into his room.

Obi-Wan sighed in relief.  He walked quietly to his own bedroom and opened the closet door.  He was about to toss the package inside when he decided he had to know what it was. He opened the outer box, ripped open the gold foil and opened the inner box, fumbling a bit.  A small porcelain figurine fell out and struck the floor before he could buffer the impact. 

It was a pitten; or rather, a shattered pitten figurine.  He picked up the head, tail, torso, and left paw, and put the pieces back into the box.  He never quite liked pittens; he thought they were ugly, furry, controlling dark-side beasts, and he was certain he was allergic to them.   Why someone would send a pitten for a gift was beyond his understanding.

He didn't even understand his own need to hide the gifts from Qui-Gon.  Dorin was right; Qui-Gon hadn't forbidden him to see anyone intimately, and even if his master had, he couldn't fault Obi-Wan for receiving gifts he had nothing to do with.  So why did Obi-Wan turn down offers for perfectly acceptable dates, and why was he hiding gifts from his Master, like an adolescent afraid to be caught doing… what?  Foolish of him; he should be acting his age.

"Obi-Wan, I was just informed our take-off time has been moved up two hours.  Are you ready to go?" Qui-Gon asked from the other room.

"Yes, Master!"

He tossed the box into the closet, grabbed his travel pack, and joined his Master in the common room.  He'd contemplate his own strange actions when he had more time to contemplate what they meant.

The mission went well; it was on a temperate planet populated by reasonable people.  There were a few delays, a bit of fighting, and a small celebration at the end.  The usual fare.  In two weeks, they returned to Coruscant unscathed.

"Mmmmm," said Obi-Wan, stretching his neck on their way back to their quarters.  "That bed on the ship was most uncomfortable.  I could use a long, hot bath." 

Qui-Gon put a hand on his Padawan's shoulder and started massaging the muscle with his thumb.  "Why don't you, then?  I have to drop by the distribution center to send these samples out.  I'll meet you back at our quarters." 

Obi-Wan leaned into Qui-Gon's hand, savoring the soothing touch.  It was a moment before he heard – distribution center?  Mailroom. "Um, on second thought, why don't you go back to our quarters?  You worked very hard on this mission.  You deserve a bath more than I do.  I usually take too long.  I'll take these."  He said it all in a babbling rush as he grabbed the small container from Qui-Gon, and hurried off to the mailroom.

Dorin looked up as Obi-Wan stepped into the mailroom.  "Well, if it isn't the most popular padawan on Coruscant!  How was the mission, Obi-Wan?"

"It went well enough.  I need to send these out to the central repository." 

"Right away," said Dorin as he packed up the sample.

"Did I receive any mail?" asked Obi-Wan, tentatively. 

"Did you?" answered Dorin.  He took the box with the sample into the back room, and returned with an armful of packages.  "Fifteen parcels, to be exact.  You have a very generous lover."

"Right," Obi-Wan sighed.  He watched as Dorin covered the desk with package after package, each a different size and shape.  "Do you have a bag, or something I can use to carry these back to my room in?"

"Sure," he answered, pulling a large sack from a storage closet.  "Ten Republic credits."

"Ten?  I don't have any money on me, can you charge me later?"

"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan, cash only."

"But…  you know where I live.  I'm good for the money.  It's only ten credits, for Force's sake!"

"Rules are rules, and I've been stuck with the bill too often," replied Dorin with a small vengeful smile. 

Obi-Wan muttered a few obscenities under his breath as he gathered the packages.  With a touch of the Force, he managed to keep them balanced as he rushed to his quarters.  Luckily, no one noticed him.  He hoped.

Qui-Gon was still in the 'fresher when he got back, thank the Force.  He elbowed the switch to open his closet door, and winced at the sight.  He should have cleaned the closet before the mission.  Too late now.

He heard the water turn off in the bathroom.  Much too late.  He stuffed all fifteen packages in his closet, and used a touch of the Force to balance them inside while he palmed the door shut. 

Just in time.  Qui-Gon emerged from the 'fresher, dressed in only a towel.  Obi-Wan averted his eyes.  It shouldn't bother him to see his Master nude--it didn't bother him at all, it just made him...made him...he was just admiring his master's body, that was all.  He snuck a quick glance.  Yes, quite  admirable - flat stomach, broad shoulders, muscular thighs.  He tried not to notice how graceful Qui-Gon looked when he walked.

He was stunned a moment later he felt Qui-Gon's hand cupping his face and stroking his cheek.  "Is everything all right, Obi-Wan?  You seem a bit upset."

Their eyes met, and Obi-Wan's heart stopped.  His face flushed, and the heat shot directly to his groin.  Oh Force, where did that come from?  He thought about moving away, but found himself leaning closer to Qui-Gon instead.  He was glad for the thick tunic that covered any evidence of his arousal. 

Qui-Gon went on, stroking Obi-Wan's jaw line with his thumb.  "I want you to know you did an excellent job on the mission, Padawan."

"The mission was an easy one, Master." 

"Perhaps it was easy because you handled it so well."

"Yes, Master," he answered, his voice cracking.  "Thank you.  I think I should take a shower now."

Qui-Gon finished drying off and slid on a clean pair of sleep pants.  Old fool, he thought to himself.  What was he thinking, stroking Obi-Wan's cheek as though he was a child.  Or a lover.  Lover!   Where did that come from?  He ought not to have those thoughts about his apprentice, especially since it was obvious Obi-Wan had no interest in him.  Or anyone else, it seemed.  At least, no one he was willing to tell his Master about.

The door chime interrupted his thoughts.  It was Therrin, a knight who was a good friend to both him and Obi-Wan. 

"Come in."

"I can't stay long," Therrin said, looking slightly embarrassed.  "A while ago I lent Obi-Wan my Seeker, and, I hate to ask for it back so soon, but I'm going on a solo mission, and will need to stay in practice."

"Of course.  We just returned from a mission ourselves, so we're still a bit disorganized," said Qui-Gon as he made a cursory check of his Padawan's neat room.  "It's probably in his closet, I'll just be a minute."

Qui-Gon palmed the switch to open the closet door, and was suddenly assailed by packages, empty boxes, synthetic stuffing, chocolate candy, and one book, all raining down from the closet.

Therrin rushed into Obi-Wan's room to see what the commotion was about.  At that same moment, Obi-Wan emerged from the 'fresher, naked, rubbing his short hair dry with the towel. 

Therrin brushed away a crumpled bit of goldfoil that had lodged in Qui-Gon’s hair.  "Are you all right?"

"Yes,” Qui-Gon answered, trying to pull a piece of statically charged stuffing that was clinging to his leggings.  He was surrounded by packages, paper, and chocolate truffles that had fallen out of their box and littered the floor.  “Obi-Wan, I apologize. Therrin was looking for the Seeker you borrowed from him."

Obi-Wan blushed, quickly wrapping the towel around his hips.  He nodded a greeting to his friend and reached into his closet.  "Here it is.  I should have thought to return it before our mission."

 "Thank you, Obi-Wan."  Therrin could barely contain his laughter.  "I'd love to hear the end of this some day, but my prep time for the mission is short.  Good night!"

They exchanged good-byes, and Therrin retreated from the quarters, obviously trying to keep the laughter under his breath.  Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan spoke at the same time:
--"Obi-Wan, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go into your closet without permission."
--"I didn't mean to keep these a secret from you, Master."

Obi-Wan recovered first.  "Someone's been sending me gifts, anonymously.  I don't know why I decided to hide them from you."

"Obi-Wan, don't feel you have keep your lovers a secret."

"But that's the problem!  There *are* no lovers--I've no idea who's been sending me
these gifts."  Obi-Wan was visibly distressed.  "I'm not even certain what these are."

So, Obi-Wan hadn't been keeping anyone from him.  Qui-Gon felt oddly relieved, and slightly excited.  He tried not to notice his apprentice struggling to keep the towel in place while bending over to gather the boxes.  To keep himself from staring, he picked up the leather book from the floor and started flipping through it.  "Poetry, Padawan?"  he teased.  Obi-Wan shrugged, and started to push the gifts back into the closet.  "You should open the rest of them.  Why don't you get dressed first."  Yes, Obi-Wan needed to get dressed, quickly, before that towel slid any lower down his hips.

It took Obi-Wan only a moment to slip into a pair of fresh sleep pants.  He dumped an armful of packages on the table in their small kitchen and started to unwrap.  Qui-Gon considered leaving Obi-Wan alone with this task, but thought it would be much more fun to assist.  He sat down at the table next to his Padawan. 

"Maybe I can help you figure out who sent them."

Obi-Wan glanced up with an inscrutable look on his face.  "Certainly, Master."

Qui-Gon looked through the packages Obi-Wan had already opened.   He'd already seen the poetry book, and flipped through it again.  He suppressed a chuckle – he could not imagine reading these poems to Obi-Wan.  Surely his Padawan would laugh at the snobbish, overblown language – why would someone need three hundred words to describe an odiferous plant? 

The beads Obi-Wan received were beautiful, not to mention valuable.  The note inside mentioned his eyes – yes, the Naja Lapis would compliment his Padawan's eyes, much more than the simple bands he usually wore.  Those bands were on the table as well; Qui-Gon touched them, wishing he had given Obi-Wan something better. 

The porcelain pitten lay in pieces on the table.  It was cute, thought Qui-Gon, and he couldn’t bear to leave it broken.  He found some glue, and started fitting the pitten parts together.

Obi-Wan chuckled.  "I understand your love for pathetic life forms, Master, but really!"

"You are not allergic to pittens!" he said, laughing.  "And even if you were, you wouldn't be allergic to this one." 

Obi-Wan laughed back, and placed another gift on the table.  A pair of gold earrings.

"You have pierced ears, don't you?" teased Qui-Gon.

"Yes, from that mission on Rahli."

His Padawan had been very reluctant to appear wealthy; he couldn’t wait to get back to his quarters every night to scrub off the make-up and peel off the stifling clothes.  Obi-Wan quickly opened another package – an old-fashioned calligraphy pen.  They both shrugged, and another package was opened.  A portable silver mirror.  More shrugs, another package.  A recording of romantic music.  Qui-Gon plugged it into their player as Obi-Wan opened another package.  A bottle of wine. 

"This is something we can use," said Qui-Gon as reached for an opener.  "Unless…" he hesitated, certain he had overstepped his bounds.  After all, someone else had bought the bottle for Obi-Wan. 

"Go ahead, I'd rather share it with you," said Obi-Wan as he reached over to mute the recorder.  "This music is awful."  Relieved the sappy music had stopped, Qui-Gon poured two glasses and sat back down at the table.  They savored their wine in companionable silence. 

Next present.  A jeweled bracelet.  Obi-Wan set it aside without comment.  Next gift – another book.  A story of young, star-crossed lovers from feuding families.  Next gift – another ceramic figurine, featuring an elegant female dancer.  It was set aside with the rest. 

The next package was a set of scented oils.  "At least these might be useful," said Obi-Wan.

"Indeed," chuckled Qui-Gon, noticing how his Padawan blushed when he realized the innuendo.  Obi-Wan quickly grabbed another package.  It was a trinket of some sort.

"What is this?" asked Obi-Wan, holding up the red… thing.

"I have no idea," answered Qui-Gon.

"So, you really didn't send these gifts?" murmured Obi-Wan.

"No," he said, slowly.  "You thought they were from me?"

"No!  Well, for a while, perhaps," he confessed.  "But I'm glad they weren't."

Qui-Gon felt an unexpected stab of jealousy.  Of course his Padawan wanted as admirer more his age. 

"Master!  I'm sorry," stammered Obi-Wan.  "These gifts aren't…" he paused and swallowed.  "You brought me tea."

"Tea?" 

"Yes, before our mission.  It doesn't matter.  I should be going to bed now."

Obi-Wan disappeared into his room. Qui-Gon straightened out the gifts and re-corked the wine so they could enjoy it tomorrow, if Obi-Wan was still interested.  He couldn't believe his Padawan remembered the tea he'd bought before the mission.  It was such a small gesture, something he was happy to do for his apprentice. 

Qui-Gon gathered up the wrapping paper and stuffing, and pushed it all into the kitchen disposal.  The room looked clean enough, he decided, and retired into his own room.  Tired as he was, it still took hours for him to finally doze off.

Qui-Gon emerged from his room the next morning to find his Padawan searching for something in the kitchen.

"Did you lose something?"

"The bands, for my braid.  I can't find them anywhere."

"The Lapis beads are right here," said Qui-Gon, opening the small package.

"Not the beads, the bands.  The bands you gave me, when you officially took me as your Padawan."

Realization hit Qui-Gon instantly.  "I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan.  I cleaned up last night, and must have accidentally thrown them out with wrapping.  But they were just simple bands, we can pick up another set any time."

Obi-Wan looked uncharacteristically distressed.  "No, not like those.  They were special." 

Qui-Gon was astonished; why would his apprentice care so much about a set of inexpensive bands?  He could feel Obi-Wan release his feelings into the Force. 

"I'm sorry, Master, I know you didn't mean to throw them out.  Do we have anything else around here I could use?" 

"I doubt it, Obi-Wan," answered Qui-Gon.  They didn't usually collect sundry items in their room.  "You can use the beads."

Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose.  "They're ostentatious."

"No they're not," replied Qui-Gon.  "They're tasteful and understated.  And we're late.  Shall I?"  Obi-Wan nodded dutifully, and Qui-Gon started braiding. 

"Besides," added Qui-Gon, "They do match your eyes."

He expected his Padawan to blush, but Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow and broke into a grin.  Qui-Gon responded with a smile of his own.  He finished the braid, and took a moment to run his hand down its length.  Just making sure it's lying well, he told himself.  The shiver of excitement that ran through his body didn't mean anything, he told himself.  No, it certainly didn't mean he was falling in love with his apprentice. 

Obi-Wan gave him a warm smile, and Qui-Gon felt a flutter of pleasure through their bond.  "Come on, Padawan," he said, tugging Obi-Wan's braid and ruffling his short hair.  "We're late for the council meeting.  Again."

Obi-Wan's day was filled with boring meetings and neck-stiffening research.  He ended the day with a two-hour lightsaber workout, and decided to shower before returning to his quarters.  He turned on the water when his friend Valerin entered the showers and started stripping down.

"Obi-Wan, long time!  You on-planet for a few days?"

"I hope not!  Too many council meetings; too much down time.  I'd rather be in the field."

Valerin snorted and took the shower next to his friend.  "Maybe it helps that you and your Master draw all the best assignments.  Hey, you free for lunch tomorrow?  We should catch up."

"As long as it's out of the temple.  I'd rather eat rations than cafeteria food."

Valerin laughed.  "I'll drop by your quarters at noon, then.  Hey, what's this?" he said as he moved closer and grabbed Obi-Wan's braid. 

Obi-Wan fought the urge to jump away.  He had always thought Valerin was attractive, and at one time had a crush on his friend.  It was never serious; Obi-Wan hadn't been in love, but it would have been fun to share youthful sexual explorations with his friend, had Valerin been so inclined.  He wasn't.  Far from it.  Knowing Val wouldn't appreciate the attention, Obi-Wan kept his feelings to himself.

But Obi-Wan had been thinking of his Master all day, and even though his infatuation with Valerin had passed years ago, his friend was still very attractive.  Not to mention wet and naked, and very close.  A touch of the force quelled his reaction.

"Where did you get these?" asked Valerin.

It took Obi-Wan a moment to realize Valerin was talking about the beads in his braid.

"Someone sent them.  Anonymously.  As a gift."

Valerin frowned.  "I sent them."

"You did?"  In his momentary confusion, Obi-Wan let his control slip.  Valerin was inches away, grabbing his braid, warm water beading down his naked body.  It didn't help that Obi-Wan kept imagining it was his Master's hand holding his braid.  Not even his vaunted Jedi control could keep him from becoming aroused.

"I sent them, but not to you.  They were for Keli.  Did you get other gifts?"

"Yes.  About twenty."  Oh Force, please don't. . . notice.

"Damn!"  Valerin finally pulled away.   He turned off the water, dried himself off, and quickly threw on fresh clothes.  Obi-Wan did the same, unsure whether Val was angry because of the misdirected gifts or because he'd. . . noticed. . .  "Come on," Valerin continued impatiently. "They weren't meant for you and I want them back, if you don't mind. 

"Keli?  Why her?" asked Obi-Wan.

"She's beautiful, in case you haven't noticed," answered Valerin.

"She's an idiot," replied Obi-Wan.  "She's not even a Jedi – she's here because her mother donates money. . ."

"Don't tell me you're jealous," interrupted Valerin. 

"I. . .  No.  I'm sure Keli would make a fine. . . mate. . . for you, Valerin."

They walked back to Obi-Wan's quarters in a strained silence.  Obi-Wan let them both in, and Valerin went to work gathering up the gifts and stuffing them into a sack Obi-Wan had dug out of the closet.

"The pitten's been broken!"

"I'm sorry, I dropped it."

Valerin picked up the poetry book.  "Some of these pages are bent.  Where's the wine?  Did you drink it?"

"I drank it!" announced Qui-Gon, emerging from his bedroom.  "I'll compensate you later."

"No thanks," replied Valerin, clearly embarrassed, not to mention annoyed at the condition of his costly gifts.   He picked up the sack and turned to go.  "Look, Obi-Wan, I think we should skip lunch tomorrow."

Obi-Wan nodded slowly.  “All right.”  What more was there to say?  He felt the familiar presence of his Master behind him as he watched his friend storm out of the room.

"Are you all right, Padawan?" 

“We’ve been friends since we were eight.” 

“He’ll be back.” Obi-Wan felt his Master’s strong arms slide around his waist.

“How can you be sure?”

“He’s a Jedi.”  Qui-Gon pulled his apprentice toward him until Obi-Wan’s back rested against his broad chest.  “Besides, he forgot to take the scented oils.”

Obi-Wan had the next day off, so he slept in half the morning and took his time tidying his closet  before heading down to the mailroom.   He didn’t feel like leaving the safety of his quarters, but needed to let Dorin know what had happened. 

"Ah, Obi-Wan!" Dorin greeted him as he walked in.  "Package for you."

"No, Dorin, I don't think it's for me.  That's what I'm down here to tell you.  You see…."

"You're talking about Valerin and Keli?  We already know all about that.  You see, Valerin entrusted the gifts to his friend Dersley, who decided to play a little joke on him and send them to you instead of Keli.  Valerin's not speaking to Dersley, and of course, you know he's not speaking to you; in fact, he refuses to come out of his room!  And Keli's not speaking to anyone; she's rather embarrassed about the situation.  Seems as though she's had her eye on Master Perrith, who's been secretly seeing that pretty Knight…"

"All right, all right!"  Obi-Wan didn't want to know any more.  All he really wanted right now as a mission.  A long mission.  A very long mission, to the outer rim, preferably.

"So here's your package," said Dorin.

"Who sent it?"

"I don't know.  It was sent anonymously."

Obi-Wan grimaced, and turned to go.  "Thanks."  He thought a moment, and turned back.  "Dorin, I'm sorry I treated you so poorly a few weeks ago, in front of our quarters.  It was poorly done."

Dorin gave a little smile and a quick nod to let Obi-Wan know he was forgiven.  For now. 

Obi-Wan placed the parcel on the kitchen bench before pouring himself a glass of javanjuice.  He sat down at the small kitchen table and looked at the small parcel as he sipped his juice.  This had stopped being funny and he wondered what was the more Jedi-like course of action - to toss it into the disposal or send it back to Val with a restrained note, something about "Thanks but no thanks".

He was so absorbed in his sulking he hardly heard his Master enter, and tried to ignore Qui-Gon as he sat down beside him.  "Aren't you going to open it, Padawan?"

"No."

"You should."

It was easier to open the package than to argue, so Obi-Wan once again went through the ritual of opening the package, hardly noticing the absence of the expensive wrapping paper.  In the box were three small beads, made of some blue and red stone, carved down to fit in a padawan's braid. 

Obi-Wan tilted his head and looked at his Master.  "These look familiar."

Qui-Gon said nothing as the two Jedi looked at each other for a long moment.  "They're beautiful." whispered Obi-Wan, not taking his eyes from his Master.  "Did you make them yourself?"

"Yes," answered Qui-Gon hoarsely.  "I carved them from my meditation beads."

Obi-Wan swallowed - the meditation beads were one of Qui-Gon’s most valued possession.  Sharing them with Obi-Wan was like sharing a part of himself.  "Will you put them on my braid?" asked Obi-Wan, barely audible.

Qui-Gon moved closer to his Padawan, and began to unwind Obi-Wan's hair.  Obi-Wan felt the gentle tugging as Qui-Gon smoothed out his hair and started the braid.  It was a task normally done in a few seconds, but this time was special.   Obi-Wan’s heart pounded as his Master slid the beads into place; it was as if he was being claimed again for the first time. 

Qui-Gon didn't pull away when he was finished; instead he moved closer, caressing Obi-Wan's braid, letting his fingers brush Obi-Wan's ear and neck.  Obi-Wan slid his hand upward and cupped Qui-Gon's cheek, feeling his Master's stiff beard against his hand.

"Thank you, Master."

He leaned forward for a kiss, but Qui-Gon stopped him.  Obi-Wan's heart constricted; had he completely misread this situation?  Was he making a fool of himself once again?

"You don’t have to, Padawan."

A lump formed in Obi-Wan's throat, preventing him from making a sound.

"You deserve to be courted," continued Qui-Gon.  "To be showered with gifts; to have someone tell you how wonderful you are."

Obi-Wan shook his head.  "You saw for yourself – I don't need useless trinkets and money thrown at me. Qui-Gon, you tell me you love me every day, in a dozen different ways.  You…"

He was silenced abruptly as his Master's lips met his own.  The kiss was soft, then firm, then bruising as they opened their mouths to taste and devour.  Their hands clutched and grabbed and caressed.  Obi-Wan somehow found himself straddling his Master's lap, grinding his hardness into Qui-Gon's belly.

Qui-Gon broke the kiss.  Their belts had been discarded, their tunics opened, and the lacing on their leggings loosened.  Somehow, one of Obi-Wan's boots had worked itself off, and the other had been unfastened but was still in place. 

Qui-Gon reached into his pants to adjust his erection, which had grown hard against his thigh.  A wide-eyed Obi-Wan moved his Master's hand away and started stroking the thick cock.  Impressed, he wondered what it tasted like, and what it would feel like inside him, but there was so much more of Qui-Gon to taste and feel first.  He'd better get started now, he thought, and leaned down to suck on his Master's earlobe as he continued to stroke the hot, hard member in his hand.

"There's no reason to hurry, Padawan."  Qui-Gon's breath was ragged.

"I beg to differ," answered Obi-Wan.  He wondered if he had overstepped his bounds, but noticed Qui-Gon had tugged off Obi-Wan's other boot, and was trying to slide his tunic off as well, something he wouldn't be able to do until Obi-Wan let go of his cock. 

Obi-Wan felt his Master shift beneath him, and quickly but reluctantly released the penis as Qui-Gon pushed him to his feet and started moving them both toward Qui-Gon's bedroom.

"I want more of that, soon," said Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon didn't answer; he just picked up one of the bottles of scented oil along the way, and gave his apprentice a crooked smile. 

They climbed on Qui-Gon's large bed and stripped the rest of the clothing off.  Their eyes met, and the mood suddenly changed from frantic to tender.

Obi-Wan wanted to speak, wanted to say "I love you, Qui-Gon, love you so much…"  but it just wouldn't come out in words, words that seemed so inadequate…. though it poured from his skin like light from a saber…

Qui-Gon wasn't as restrained.  "Do you know how very much I love you?" 

Still achingly aroused, Obi-Wan managed to proceed more slowly now, caressing the length of his Master's body, savoring his neck and chest with his mouth.  Qui-Gon's callused hands explored his body, slow and firm, maddening.  Obi-Wan was astonished; just a short time ago, he was Qui-Gon's student and friend.  Now he was naked and hot underneath his Master, arching into his touch.

So surprising, so very exciting to be covered by that big, powerful body, to feel his Master's cock sliding against his groin.  Their mutual desire through their link cascaded and reflected as the Force was flushed with the power of life, with the electric rush of their climax.

They continued to touch and caress and kiss, reveling in the afterglow.  Feeling their bond sing between them, more open now than it ever has been, was exquisite.

"My Obi-Wan," said Qui-Gon, stroking his apprentice's cheek.

His Obi-Wan.  He shivered in renewed excitement hearing his Master's words, but the power of speech had left him.  He was certain Qui-Gon knew how he felt, as he could see the love reflected back in his eyes. 

Duties required them to separate that afternoon, and they didn't care that their faces betrayed both pleasure and anticipation.   They made love again that night, making good use of Valerin's oils.  That night they slept entwined, both bodies and souls.  Jedi duties demanded their attention again the next morning, but Obi-Wan didn't mind.  His thoughts centered on his love, and the serenity and excitement he felt whenever he touched his bond with Qui-Gon. 

He was headed back to his quarters at midday when he heard an irritating voice ring through the corridor.  "Oh, this is almost as nice as the one my father gave me for my seventh naming day!" Obi-Wan turned to look and saw Keli inspecting a familiar-looking silver mirror.  Valerin sat next to her with a slightly irritated look on his face.  Before Obi-Wan could look away, Val caught his eye.

Obi-Wan turned his head and quickened his pace.  Yesterday had been glorious, and his mood was still buoyant, almost bubbly.  He had no wish to ruin it with a confrontation.  He was surprised, then, to hear footsteps behind him. 

"Wait up, Kenobi!"  Val had chased after him. 

He faced Val, who had looked almost chastised, his shoulders slumped, his hands on his hips.  He avoided Obi-Wan's eyes, seeming instead to be staring at a point on the corridor wall between them.  "Listen, Obi-Wan, I've been thinking, and I, uh.  I wonder if you'd be…"  There was a long pause as he seemed to search for words.

"It's ok, Val," he answered.  He wanted to reach out to his friend but was afraid; and was stunned when Val put an arm on his shoulder and leaned closer. 

"Really?"

"Really."  For a moment it looked as though Val was going to kiss him, but instead his friend moved away. Obi-Wan sensed things would be all right between them.  After all, they were Jedi.

"I'm starving.  You want to grab something to eat?" asked Val.

"Sorry, I have plans." The corners of Obi-Wan's mouth turned up slightly in anticipation of those plans. "Maybe tomorrow?" 

"Maybe tomorrow, then," replied Valerin as he turned to go back to Keli. 

Obi-Wan spared a moment to watch Keli quirk a haughty eyebrow at the bracelet she'd just opened. "How... interesting," she chirped, with a forced smile.  Yes, he and Val were Jedi, but it was somehow comforting to know that even Jedi could be less than wise.
 

Not wanting to waste any more time, Obi-Wan rushed back to his quarters.  He entered to find Qui-Gon in the kitchen, heating water. 

"Tea, Padawan?" he asked, smiling warmly.

Taking a seat at their small table, Obi-Wan smiled and nodded yes.  His Master poured the tea and sat next to his apprentice, leaning back and stretching out his long legs.  Their fingers brushed as he passed the cup to his Padawan.  Obi-Wan quietly sipped his tea, basking in the warm presence next to him, feeling his Master's love reflected back to him. 

Qui-Gon slid his arm around his apprentice and fingered his long braid.  Obi-Wan leaned into his Master.  In a few years his braid would be gone, but the love between them was a gift that would endure forever. 

End

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