Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer here people, nothing to see, except that all but Clea Tari belong to the great and wise Mr. Lucas, who hopefully will not sue the pants off me. Between him and DC Comics, bills and my savings account, I'm broke. There ain't much in saving either, Mr. Lucas.

Clea Tari pulled the fresher curtain back and gasped. "Master!" Qui-Gon Jinn jumped about three feet in the air and whirled away from the sight of his mostly naked apprentice.

"Sorry, Clea," he mumbled as he beat a hasty retreat out the door. The mug in his hand sloshed hot tea on his hand and he muttered a curse as he turned around to set it down on the cabinet. Clea gave another shriek and he just dropped the mug, using the Force to hopefully get it to the cabinet. He must have missed because he heard a crash, another shriek and then muttered words that weren't immediately translatable.

Qui-Gon walked back into the living area and flopped down on the sofa with a frown. He'd gotten enough of a glance to see that Clea was becoming a woman. When had that happened? He frowned to himself. How old was she, anyway? Fourteen?

His blue eyes widened as he realized he'd been training her for four years. She was sixteen, almost seventeen. He had taken her as his apprentice six months before her thirteenth birthday.

He rubbed his chin in thought. Was he supposed to have one of those heart to heart talks like the one Ashanti gave him? Qui-Gon shuddered at the thought. Ashanti Vende, terror of the Council and flutterbrain extraordinaire, had made him watch holo-vids, read various "manuals" (as she called them) and then even gave him a standard lecture on behaving himself and maintaining a gentlemanly demeanor with a young woman. After that horrible evening she then shipped him off to Master Yoda for more "lessons". Qui-Gon had promised himself he'd never do that to any apprentice he had.

Qui-Gon had to admit, though, he now understood what Ashanti had been so worried about. What if Clea got pregnant? Or raped? Or...or...

His mind raced with the possibilities and the thousands of scenarios that could happen. Clea stood in the doorway of the living area, watching the myriad expressions cross her master's face. Wondering at the topic, Clea decided to break the ice and draw his attention back.

"I'm pregnant, Master, and I'm leaving the Jedi to raise my baby in the Sith Temple of Yavin Four." Qui-Gon's head slowly turned to her, his eyes wide and a trapped expression on his face. Clea smiled, an evil expression of pure glee, knowing that she had tagged her master and good. "Just kidding!" she singsonged.

He lunged for her and she slipped away but he caught the flutter of her robe as she went by. He pulled her to him and looked her up and down. "When," he said in a huffy voice, "did you grow up?"

Clea blinked at him stupidly. "I'm sorry?" she squeaked.

"I asked you when you grew up. You were this skinny, little, gangly thing and now you're joking about having a family!" Qui-Gon ruffled her hair affectionately, the red tresses still damp from the fresher. The braid that signified she was a padawan was lost in the loose waves, which were normally bound back in a pony tail, leaving the braid loose. The beads she used to adorn it glittered in the light. Her eyes danced merrily with laughter.

"You," she informed him, "need to be more observant."

He gave her a wry look and guided her to the sofa. "Obviously." They settled down and he watched her a moment. "Clea, I'm sure you know most of this stuff, so I'm just going to lay down some ground rules, okay?"

She nodded. "Okay. Ground rules for what? We need more rules?"

"No boys in our quarters."

She waved it away like a gnat, trying for casual and failing. "Like I would anyway." She blushed.

"If you ever get seriously involved physical, use safety measures," Qui-Gon continued. Clea's eyes widened and she ducked her head as her blushed deepened.

"Master," she interrupted softly. "I haven't even been out with anyone."

Qui-Gon reared back in surprise. "You haven't?" he said stupidly.

Clea's wide green eyes looked at him as she whispered, "I'm too shy. I don't know what to do."

Qui-Gon's booming laugh reverberated around the room. He hugged her to him quickly and then released her. "Then I won't worry. You are a responsible girl and I trust you to do the right things."

Clea beamed at him and hugged him back, then hurried to finish getting ready for the day.

Qui-Gon grinned arrogantly to himself. "What was so hard about that?" he asked himself, puffing up. "That was absurdly easy."

Xanatos was walking arm in arm with one of the ambassador's very pretty daughters, catching Qui-Gon's eye as he spoke with the girl's father about the day's dilberations. Qui-Gon frowned as Xanatos obviously chatted the girl up, his free arm making flourishing motions as he talked. His other arm was making its way down her ribcage.

Qui-Gon knew Xanatos had a bit of an ego, and he loved to talk about himself, but it was flaw Qui-Gon was working on, though not very sucessfully or diligently.

"It seems our two youngsters are getting along," noted the ambassador when he saw where Qui-Gon's attention had strayed.

"Hmm?" Qui-Gon jerked his gaze back to his companion. "My apologies, Ambassador Given, I meant no disrespect."

The man laughed and thumped Qui-Gon on the back. "I've been keeping an eye on them myself. My daughter's been all dreamy-eyed over, how did she say it?" The ambassador blinked his eyelashes in a melodramatic feminine fashion and continued in a high falsetto, "The gorgeous Jedi."

Qui-Gon's gave a grin of fatherly pride. "He is handsome, and quite the smooth-talker," the Jedi admitted. "I will have to speak with him, I suppose."

The ambassador gave a chuckle. "Boys will be boys, and our customs are more open with our children than others." The dignitary leaned over the railing to catch a glimpse of the pair as they turned out of sight in the garden. "I'll have a talk with her as well. Accidents do happen," he said ruefully.

Qui-Gon flushed.

A few hours later in their assigned quarters, Qui-Gon looked up as Xanatos came in with a goofy look on his face. "I take it you and the lovely daughter have gotten along quite well." Xanatos had the grace to look disconcerted. "We saw you in the gardens," Qui-Gon admitted.

"Oh." Xanatos gave his cocky grin. "She's okay."

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "Okay?" he echoed. "She's very beautiful for a girl that young."

"She's my age, Master Qui-Gon," protested Xanatos, peeved at possibly being referenced as a boy.

Qui-Gon supressed his grin. "Yes, she is and you're only sixteen. Things have a way of getting out of control at that age." Xanatos rolled his eyes. "What?"

"Are you going to give me a parental sex speech?"

Qui-Gon leaned back, gazing thoughtfully at the stupefied apprentice. "Yes."

"Oh." Xanatos got up and went into the sleeping chamber assigned to him.

"Get back in here," ordered Qui-Gon. Xanatos' head popped out, an innocent expression on his face. For once, Qui-Gon wasn't buying it. "Do not dismiss me."

"Yes, Master." Xanatos sounded repetent and looked repetent so Qui-Gon accepted it. "You wanted to say something, Master?"

"I expect you to behave responsibly. Is that understood?" Qui-Gon's tone was unusually sharp. That got Xanatos' attention. "I suspect you've been roaming around now for sometime and that is fairly acceptable. You will, however, maintain decorum and the dignity befitting a Jedi knight, is that understood as well?" Xanatos nodded, eyes wide. How different he was from Clea, noted Qui-Gon with rueful twist to his lips. "I will not defend you if you get some hapless female pregnant, Padawan."

Xanatos rolled his eyes, but Qui-Gon ignored it, waiting for the acquiensence. "Yes, Master. I'm careful. I am." Xanatos gave him an endearing smile and Qui-Gon nodded once.

"Very well. Just making sure."

Xanatos' head disappeared but Qui-Gon heard the muffled reply laced with laughter. "Yes, Master."

The negotiations were brief and settled quickly, only in one day. Obi-Wan Kenobi stood with his master, trying to ignore the pretty girl standing next to her parents just down the table. They had been trading glances all day and Obi-Wan had caught himself daydreaming about her. It was silly, really. He didn't even remember being introduced to her at the reception the evening before.

"It is agreed, then." The five negotiators, including Master Qui-Gon Jinn, stood up and shook hands. Obi-Wan brought his attention from the girl and back to his master when Qui-Gon placed his hand on the apprentice's shoulder.

"Ready for some refreshment, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon noted that his padawan learner's glance was pulled away from the rebel leader's daughter rather reluctantly.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan replied respectfully and whole-heartedly. He was starving!

Qui-Gon's eyes showed a momentary twinkle, catching his apprentice off-guard. "Very well. General Cho has invited us to dine with his family. I have accepted. We'll clean up and meet them back here for the short journey."

Obi-Wan's gaze slid back to the general's daughter and then back to his master. "Yes, Master," he said with a bit more enthusiasm.

*I thought that's what I felt,* mused Qui-Gon. *God, I hope he's not like Xanatos.* Qui-Gon immediately berated himself for the thought. Obi-Wan was not a thing like Xanatos, blessedly. Xanatos had been...active, to say the least.

Obi-Wan picked up on his master's mood change and looked at the older Jedi inquiringly. Qui-Gon said nothing but shook his head once to indicate it was nothing. Obi-Wan fell into step behind his master and shrugged to himself. Qui-Gon was often difficult to read. He held his emotions deep inside.

As they walked back to their quarters, Qui-Gon said casually, "Cho's daughter is lovely."

Obi-Wan smelled a setup at the words. "Um, yes, Master Qui-Gon, very pretty. She looked as bored as I was, though, despite the short length of the negotiations." Qui-Gon shot him a glance but Obi-Wan seemed sincere.

*He's not Xanatos. He has no plan beneath the surface. He was just admiring a pretty face.* Qui-Gon reminded himself with a frown.

"Master, is it appropriate to have relations of any sort, even chaste, with someone like her?" Obi-Wan chewed on the inside of his cheek, unable to believe he'd asked the question that had been bouncing around his brain all day.

Qui-Gon screeched to a halt and shut his eyes. *I knew it!* "I would prefer chaste."

Obi-Wan looked startled. "Well, yes, Master, but if things...um...progress beyond that..." Qui-Gon still had a pained expression on his face that made Obi-Wan nervous. His voice trailed off.

"Padawan, we need to talk." Qui-Gon resumed his walking but the pace was sped up considerably. Obi-Wan matched it but it was difficult. He did not respond to the statement.

The door slid shut behind them and Obi-Wan watched with wonder as his normally calm master began to pace. "Now I have a normal padawan!" Qui-Gon was muttering outloud to himself. "Clea was shy to an extreme. Xanatos had no self-control. Obi-Wan's asking my advice..." Qui-Gon stopped and twirled to face his very nervous padawan. "You are asking my advice?" The tone was sharper than Qui-Gon intended and he was just as startled as Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan's expression went from wary to perplexed. "Um, yes?" he said in an almost squeak.

Qui-Gon's expression shuttered for a moment, then he broke into a grin. He clapped the young man on the shoulder and gave a wide smile. "Thank you for being normal, Obi-Wan," he told his confused apprentice.

Obi-Wan thought about backing away, but wasn't sure it was respectful. Qui-Gon was obviously worn out and not thinking very well. "You're welcome, Master. I'm confused."

"And I'm relieved you're responsible," Qui-Gon announced. He walked to his pack and pulled out a small package and tossed it to his padawan. "Here. Use it. If you don't, I kill you. Got it?"

Obi-Wan stared at the small square package. "I have one." Qui-Gon gaped. Obi-Wan nodded his head in case his master didn't believe him. "I do. Weren't you required to carry one until you were older?" Obi-Wan realized his words could be misconstrued and blushed red to the roots of his red-brown hair. "I mean, uh.."

Qui-Gon collapsed on the nearest chair in laughter. "I know what you meant, Obi-Wan, and yes, I had forgotten," he added with a wry twist to his lips.

Obi-Wan looked curiously at the package. "It's out of date."

"What?"

Obi-Wan held it out, trying not to smile but failing horribly. "The expiration date. It was two years ago."

Obi-Wan swore he'd remember that mortified expression for the rest of his life. It was the perfect story to tell when he had his own padawan.