Author's Notes: Evil one that I am, I've decided to leave all the details up to the reader. Bwahahaha. So you'll just have to wonder if anyone and everyone got it on.
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.
[Three minutes to midnight]
The door to the quarters shared by Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan hissed open. The Jedi Master entered, quietly. He wondered if his Padawan was home yet, but a quick mental scan of the room showed that he was not.
Qui-Gon smiled a self-satisfied smile. He lit some incense in a burner and settled himself on the settee, kicking off his boots as he did so. He had had a most enjoyable evening. He honestly did not expect Obi-Wan to abide by the curfew he had set, and so he was pleasantly surprised when he heard the door open again.
"Master? Are you here?"
"Yes, Padawan. I am. Come in and tell me how you fared after Cal'breth and I left you at the party."
Obi-Wan entered the living area. He cast a curious glance at his Master's dim form on the settee. Normally, the older man would not be sitting in the dark.
"We didn't stay at the party, Master."
"No?"
"We went to a club."
"They let you in?" Qui-Gon asked, somewhat surprised. Galactic regulations normally specified a cut-off of eighteen for Humans at such establishments.
"Yes, well," Obi-Wan coughed, slightly embarrassed. "We convinced them that they didn't need to see our identification."
Somewhat to Obi-Wan's dismay, Qui-Gon thought this was funny. "Well, if there's a controversial way to use your Jedi powers, you'll find it, Padawan."
Obi-Wan relaxed slightly. His Master was certainly in a peculiar humor this evening.
"Padawan, I suggest you go to bed. It has been a long night and we both need to be rested in the morning for our workout."
"Yes, Master."
The next morning arrived far to quickly and Obi-Wan stood groggily in front of the mirror. If he'd been as alert as he usually was, he would have noticed that he had a dark red mark on the side of his neck, and two long scratches down either side of it. But he didn't, so he made no move to hide it.
As he walked out into the main living area, he nodded a bleary good morning to his Master and went into the kitchen to get a cup of tea.
"Stop right there, Obi-Wan."
The younger man turned to face Qui-Gon, curious. "Yes, Master?"
Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's face in his hand, tilting it slightly so that the light fell more upon his neck.
"Where did you get this?"
"Get what?"
Qui-Gon led him back into the bathroom and stood him in front of the mirror. "That," he said.
"Uh, uh, it's a…a…"
"I know what it is, Obi-Wan. Did Kat'ri give you that?"
/No, I got it from a street vendor./ Obi-Wan thought sarcastically, but wisely did not speak this thought aloud.
"Yes, sir."
Qui-Gon looked thoughtful for a moment before replying, "You'd better put something on those scratches. I don't want you to get an infection."
"Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon turned to go. "Oh, and Padawan," he tossed over his shoulder. "Tell Kat'ri when you see her that if I ever find you with another set of scratches, I'm going to file her teeth down."
"Yes, Master," said Obi-Wan. He stared after the older man, perplexed. Was he joking? With Qui-Gon it was often hard to tell.