DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
As he made his way down the Temple corridors, looking for Mace Windu, Qui-Gon reflected on his brief conversation with Yoda. Typically, the conversation had been somewhat oblique.
"I'm not really comfortable talking to the children about the Code," he had admitted. "That conversation with young Kenobi...."
"Take a padawan, you will?"
"Yes, master, someday."
"Teach him, you will?"
"Yes, master."
"Then comfortable you must become."
"Yes, master-- but how?"
"A Jedi you are. The Code, you live."
"Yes, master. But that doesn't mean I know how to teach it."
"But teach it you must."
"Yes, my master," he had said, finally giving up.
He saw his friend a few yards ahead; Windu, sensing him, turned, smiling. It was a smile Qui-Gon knew he ought not to trust. The last time he had seen that smile, in fact, they had both nearly got their robe-wearing butts kicked by a hostile crowd....
"Qui-Gon," he said, smiling even more widely, "there you are."
"Here I am," he agreed, warily.
Windu handed him a towel. "Congratulations. Your shift begins in fifteen minutes."
Qui-Gon regarded him blankly. "My shift...." He looked at the towel, and light dawned. "Oh, no. No, no, no, no."
"Sorry, my friend. It's almost time for Free Swim in the children's pool. They need another instructor."
"You mean referee," Qui-Gon rumbled. He remembered the last time he'd got roped into this particular duty.
"Taun-taun, tahn-tahn," Windu shrugged.
Depa Billaba paused beside them both. "Ah, Master Windu."
He bowed slightly. "Master Billaba. May I do something for you?"
"Yes-- I've just been told that Master Kassil has been called away. We need another master for Free Swim."
Windu's face fell. Qui-Gon repressed a smirk. *Payback's a bantha, isn't it, my friend?*
Ten minutes later, the two of them and Yan-L-Yan waited in the changing room. They were each wearing shower shoes, swimming trunks, and expressions of deep dismay.
"We really should go out," Yan-L said.
"Absolutely," Windu agreed.
"Certainly," Qui-Gon nodded.
Five minutes later, they were still standing there.
"So. We should be going," Qui-Gon said.
"Right now," Yan-L agreed.
"On our way," Windu nodded.
Three minutes later, the door slammed open, and Master Dellan stalked in, followed by her padawan, and another Master Qui-Gon didn't know.. "You three. Out there. Now. The next group is arriving."
Meekly, the Jedi Masters did as they were ordered.
Five minutes later, Qui-Gon found himself facing twelve eager, bright, and smiling faces. He recognised several from the morning class, in fact. Somehow, he was not surprised to see that Obi-Wan was one of 'his' students. He snuck a peek into the next lane. Mace seemed to be doing well with his group. Yan-L was hitting it off well with his children.
He looked back at his students. Twelve sets of eyes followed his every move.
*I should do some sort of training. Develop their Jedi... something.*
He looked at them. He got several very small, hesitant smiles. He smiled back... and their smiles widened.
*This is an excellent opportunity to teach them the ways of the Jedi.*
He raised his left hand roughly six inches above the water. Twelve sets of eyes watched him. He opened it, palm down, flat. He raised his right hand parallel, and positioned it in the same fashion. They watched him intently. Without warning, he brought both hands sharply down on the surface of the water, creating-- with just a touch of the Force-- a satisfying wall of water, drenching the class.
The water settled. Twelve thoroughly soaked students stared at him. Twelve enormous sets of eyes were fixed on him.
And then, young Obi-Wan shrieked, "Water fight!!" and all Sith broke loose.
Half an hour later, Qui-Gon was in the best mood he'd been in all day... possibly, the best mood he'd been in in months. Except for the kick in the groin, getting his hair yanked, and getting poked in the eye, the session was going marvelously well.
"Do it again! do it again!" a chorus of twelve voices shouted. His group, he was pleased to note, was definitely the loudest in the room.
Smiling widely [in fact, his face was beginning to hurt, with all the smiling he'd done; and his sides were sore with laughing], he exerted the Force, and a small child rose high into the air. He stopped the girl when she was roughly ten metres in the air; and then let her drop.
Shrieking with glee, she hit the water, sending water spraying over everyone in the area.
"Do it again! do it again!"
Before he could comply, a very stern voice broke through the commotion.
"Master Qui-Gon!"
Qui-Gon hunched his shoulders. He knew that tone. He turned.
Master Yoda stood, watching him.
*Someone's in trouble,* Windu sing-songed, through the Force, to his friend.
He turned back to his class. "I think we're finished for the day," he said.
"Yes, Master Qui-Gon," twelve voices chorused. Obediently, they paddled to the ladder, and climbed out.
Young Kenobi paused at the side, almost eye-to-eye with the Jedi Master. "We had lots of fun," he whispered, blushed, and then hurried off.
Master Yoda made his way from the room. Dripping, head hanging, Qui-Gon followed.
"Master Qui-Gon," Yoda began, then paused. Qui-Gon waited. Yoda paced back and forth, then began again. "Master Qui-Gon. Drop students from great heights into water you should not."
"No, my master."
"Amusing it may be, but do it you should not."
"Yes, my-- I mean, No, my master."
"Dignity masters must have."
"Yes, my master," Qui-Gon agreed. Several padawan learners passed them, as they stood in the hall. They looked at him-- bruised, scorched, having a serious bad hair day, and dripping wet, in nothing more than trunks-- then at each other, then, repressing snickers, hurried on their way.
"Bad day you are having?"
"I've had better, my master." Then, recalling the Free Swim, he smiled slightly. "But I've had worse."
"Glad to hear it, I am. Go home."
"Sir?"
"Go home. Tired you are. Rest you require, my friend."
"Yes, my master. Thank you."
Yoda turned and began to shuffle off. Without turning, he added, "Do something with your hair, you must. All poofy at the ends, it is."
Qui-Gon, who had turned to leave, himself, paused, and leaned his forehead against the wall. He counted to ten. *Almost a millenia old, and he still can't resist a cheap shot.*