| The rest of the day had been spent in meditation, relaxation or sleep. Vernice had taken the first watch, checking the systems and trying to get a basic feel and understanding for the ship, identifying any special little 'features' that Merdan might have added. After all it paid to know where the self-destruct was so that you could avoid hitting it by mistake! Then Obi-Wan had swapped over and taken his turn, allowing Vernice her own time alone to meditate and rest. Finally, Qui-Gon ventured back out of his cabin to relieve Obi-Wan…and so it went on. Qui-Gon felt somewhat self-conscious at checking on Jemmiah to see how she was incase Vernice caught him doing so and made some remark about being a fussing mother hen. Only when he was certain his friend was not around would he steal in to visit or speak to her if she had woken for a moment or two, which struck Qui-Gon as extremely peculiar. He was not given to running around like a naughty initiate caught with his hand in the cookie jar, looking over his shoulder lest he get caught by some overbearing master. And why should he? What was he doing that was so wrong? He was aiding the recovery of a sick child…was it any wonder that he might show an interest in his patient's progress? Yet it bothered him that Vernice thought he'd formed some kind of deeper attachment, because it was not something he could afford to do. All being well Jemmiah would return with them to the temple and would undergo the correct treatment for her condition, then when she was deemed sufficiently recovered they would try and locate any relatives remaining to her. Whilst the search went on she would be removed to an institution dealing with children who had been orphaned and possibly fostered out to a family. Getting involved was a pointless waste of time. Still, it irked him to think that she would end up in a children's home. He wasn't certain they would show sufficient understanding of her needs and experiences. How could they know? They hadn't been there on Nargotria or shared in her misery. He'd only got a grim, brief glance for the few days he had been there and that had been more than enough. But it wasn't like there were any other choices. It would soon be time to eat, although quite how delicious the rations onboard the ship were was a matter of conjecture. Still, Merdan seemed to take care of his own comforts so maybe there was cause to hope. Getting Jemmiah to eat would be a different challenge altogether. This time he had a legitimate reason to go in and speak to her without Vernice smiling knowingly at him and thinking he was a soft case. The figure on the bed was awake although not particularly restless, instead staring up at the ceiling as if deep in thought and for a moment Qui-Gon wasn't sure whether he should intrude on her solitude. Finally he gathered his courage and knocked at the side of the wall. "May I come in?" he asked. Jemmiah seemed startled at the sound of his voice and turned her head sharply to face him. "Sir?" she stared in surprise. "I came to see how you were." Qui-Gon walked slowly over to the bed. "How does the ankle feel?" "Better." Jemmy flexed her foot carefully and appeared astonished at the results. "Hey, that's good! You should have been a doctor!" "I don't think my padawan would be too pleased with that idea." Qui-Gon laughed. "He sees altogether too much of the infirmary, usually not through his own carelessness. Things have an unfortunate habit of just happening to him." "Yeah, I know the feeling." Jemmy mumbled. "Life can be a very hazardous thing sometimes. I think that's what makes it so precious." Qui-Gon perched on the edge of the chair and leaned forward. "That's why we have to look out for each other and be certain that we take the greatest of care. Now," he raised an oblique eyebrow, "how about you come through and dine with us?" Jemmiah worked extremely hard at keeping the disgust she felt off her face but it wasn't easy, and Qui-Gon soon picked up on her feelings of revulsion. Still she made a great little actress, he mused. A non-jedi might have been convinced. "I'm feeling kinda tired." She raised mournful eyes at him. Well, it wasn't as if it was a lie. She WAS tired and the master knew it. "I see." Qui-Gon nodded politely at her. "You don't want to eat because you are tired. Is that it? Or," he moved even closer to her, "is it because you don't think that you can?" Jemmiah's eyes widened in disbelief, annoyance, distrust…it was so unfair! She was really going to have to be careful of what she said, did and thought if he could discover her reasoning so easily. And who could tell what else he might pick up on if she wasn't guarded enough? Immediately Qui-Gon felt the shields slam down against him and sighed resignedly. Getting the child to trust him was not going to be an easy battle for him to win. All people had ever done was to hurt her at every turn, so why should he be any different? Instead of shying away at the seemingly impossible task Qui-Gon found himself relishing the prospect of trying to win her over. When he'd been healing her it looked as if he'd made some progress at least, but then again the evidence of his good intentions was there for her to see every time she looked at her repaired ankle. So how could he get her to see that he was not a liar or ogre like most of the men she had lived with? "Yes, sir." Jemmiah admitted a touch sullenly. "That's good." Qui-Gon smiled. "It is?" the incredulous expression almost caused Qui-Gon to laugh at her but he wisely swallowed his mirth. "Yes." The gentle voice rumbled, trying not to sound intimidating. "You've told the truth and now I have to do the same. I absolutely refuse to let you sit in here on your own whilst the rest of us sit through in the rec. room and talk. It's not right that you should be excluded and frankly I need an ally through there or else I am in real trouble." "Trouble, sir?" Jemmy frowned. "How could you be in trouble?" "Alas, you only know Obi-Wan and Master Ashdal slightly. I have known my padawan over a year and three quarters, and Master Ashdal for…" he stopped suddenly before incriminating himself. "…more years than I care to mention. And," he tried to help her into a seating position, sweeping the long hair behind her, "whenever I am left at the mercy of those two I am subjected to a rendition of 'all our yesterdays' and am forced to endure all kinds of stories regarding my less successful moments at the temple." "You mean embarrassing?" Jemmiah almost but not quite smiled. "That kind of thing, yes." Qui-Gon snorted. "And let me tell you that there are some in here who have a very long memory. So," he gently eased her off the bed, watching her try out her ankle in fascinated silence, "I have need of an ally, and you are it!" "Really?" Jemmiah asked coyly. "Really." Jinn crossed his heart. "How do you know I won't side with the enemy?" Jemmiah regarded her own stick thin legs for a moment, wondering if they were really hers. They didn't look much how she remembered them to be. It was like looking at the limbs of a giant wading bird with back-to-front knees. "I trust you." Qui-Gon replied sincerely. "Oh. That's silly for a start." Jemmy told him plainly. "I always find that women like to band together against the men. If your wife wants to tell lots of stories about you then maybe I should hear them!" "My…my wife?" Qui-Gon looked at her in amazement. "You said my wife?" "Isn't she?" Jemmy looked disappointed. "Master Ashdal and I are not married." Qui-Gon replied, amazed. "Whatever made you think that?" "Well," Jemmy looked utterly mortified with her mistake; "you seemed to get on so well. I kind of assumed that you were, that's all." "We are old friends." Qui-Gon admitted after a pause to reel in his scattered thoughts. "We do go back a long way." He nudged her chin in a friendly imitation of a cuff. "There's no need to feel ashamed. I'm not upset." "Y-you won't tell Vernice!" Jemmiah looked as if she was on the verge of running back to her bed. "She might not like it!" "What? Not like being married to me?" Qui-Gon pretended horror. "Now that I don't believe for a moment!" Success. She smiled for the first time he had seen. It wasn't much of a smile, just a slight up-curling of the corners of her mouth, which all too quickly vanished, but it was a start. "An ally?" Jemmy asked him softly, large eyes fixed unblinkingly up at the tall man. "Exactly." Qui-Gon replied. He held out his hand to her and after a moment Jemmiah consented to take it, slipping her own fingers around the much broader palm. "You still have to eat something." Qui-Gon replied as the walked towards the recreation room. "Aww, sir!" Jemmy moped. "It's my price, I'm afraid." The master strode along, urging Jemmiah to keep up with his long legs before she changed her mind. "Price for what, sir?" "Holding my hand. It's a special privilege I don't allow many people. Not even my wife." He grinned mercilessly. "And if you decide you fancy siding with Master Ashdal and my padawan I will let Vernice know what you said!" "That's blackmail." Jemmy squinted up at him through one questioning, narrowed eye. "It is." "Are Jedi allowed to do that sort of thing?" she asked him searchingly. "Not really, but then I'm not most Jedi. I'm me." "Wow." Jemmy seemed impressed. As they strolled into the recreation room they could see Vernice was studying what looked like two packets of powder, her back to them, trying to work out the instructions. "To reconstitute: add boiling water. Stir for a moment, mixing the water and the powder thoroughly. Leave for three standard minutes, stir again. Add topping," she lofted the other packet in her hand, "and serve immediately…blah, blah, blah…if you have enjoyed this instant meal…" "…It will be a miracle." Finished Jemmiah. "It's all highly colored garbage with no flavor. There's nothing real about it. You'd be better off eating the plasti-container." "No," Vernice shook her head; "I am going to transform this into a culinary delight. I will not be beaten!" "Good luck." Jemmy shrugged. "Come on then, sir. It looks like we can't help. There's nothing for me to peel or chop up, and there isn't a man alive that can boil water so…" She broke off with a squeal as Qui-Gon started to tickle her in retaliation. "That's not fair!" she squirmed away, the brief smile curling her face again before vanishing. "You insulted my capabilities as a Jedi master." Qui-Gon smirked. "I didn't! I insulted you as a man, that's different!" Jemmy replied, straightening the hem of her dress somewhat self-consciously. "Sit!" Qui-Gon pointed at the chair, laughing. "Yes, sir." Jemmy carefully lowered herself into her padded seat with a sigh. Was he angry with her? Was he annoyed with her verbal retorts? She was finding it difficult to tell. There was something very odd about him; she didn't know what it was. He seemed both stand offish and aloof and at the same time warm and friendly. He was calm and composed enough, but Jemmiah didn't want to get too close to him. She didn't know if she wanted to trust anyone ever again. That way if things went bad she couldn't be hurt. Qui-Gon watched as Vernice poured the water into a container and then drummed his fingers on the table. "Where's the termite?" he looked about him. "Obi-Wan? He's probably still meditating in his room." Vernice replied dryly. "It's not like him to miss a meal." Qui-Gon observed casually. "If you can call it that." "I'm doing my best!" Vernice hissed. "Did I say you were not?" Replied Qui-Gon serenely. "You implied it." The tone in Vernice's voice warned him to back off a little. Jemmy shook Qui-Gon by the sleeve. "Can I give you some advice, sir?" she whispered. "What?" "Never argue with a woman armed with boiling water." She nodded at him. "Believe me it's safer." "I'll bear it in mind." Qui-Gon went back to drumming his fingers on the table. "In return for which, you have to do something for me." "What, sir?" Jemmiah asked a little too eagerly for his liking. It seemed that without something to clean or deprived of menial tasks to perform the girl didn't know what to do. He somehow had to get her to break this idea of servitude that existed inside her head. "You can stop calling me 'sir'. You don't have to, you know." He explained as gently as he could. "My name is Qui-Gon. Or if you prefer you can call me Master Jinn." "Master Jinn." Jemmiah tried it out experimentally a couple of times to see how it sounded. "Master Jinn. Is that gin as in drink?" "Not quite." Qui-Gon replied. "But just as likely to make a fool of you at parties." Vernice interjected snidely as she stirred the noodles into the sauce. "Really? I'd like to hear about that…oops!" Jemmy slapped her mouth with her hand. "No I wouldn't! I forgot, I'm on his side!" Qui-Gon rapidly tried to cover up Jemmiah's mistake and the challenging look that Vernice gave him by changing the topic, trying to wrack his brains as what to say. "Do you play cards at all, Jemmiah?" he asked. "A little. I can play Sabacc too!" She answered with a conspiratorial wink. "I'm good at that, I think. I once fleeced a man in the gambling halls. Took everything he had. Course I had to give it straight back to…" she couldn't quite bring herself to mention Levinstowe's name amongst her new companions. It would feel too much like sullying their friendship. "…I had to give it back. But the point is that I won it in the first place." "We will have to have a game." Qui-Gon challenged her. "That would be good." Admitted Jemmiah. Anything to get her away from Merdan's bed in Merdan's room inside Merdan's ship. She was going out of her mind trying not to think about where she was. "I might even let you win occasionally." That dangerous gleam returned once more to Qui-Gon's eyes and this time Jemmiah was ready for him. "Sir…Master Jinn! Stop that, I'm ill remember? You're s'posed to be nice to me!" she squealed as he launched another tickling assault on her person. "Vernice, make him stop!" she gave a gasp-laugh. Vernice watched the whole scene dispassionately for a moment before putting down the container with the noodles and giving an inward sigh. This wasn't right…and it wasn't fair. She was delighted that the two of them were getting along so well, pleased he was distracting her from horrific memories and images within her head but it was going to do either of them no good at all. She could tell that Qui-Gon was getting attached. "Qui-Gon." She beckoned the master over to her with a tilt of her head. "I need to have a word." "I'm listening." He looked at her intently. "What is the matter?" "Not here. In the cockpit." He slowly followed her out; feeling slightly bemused as to what she might want. Jemmiah sat alone for a moment, wondering if she had done anything wrong to make Vernice get upset. It was not the best start to get off to. "Oh, well." Jemmy yawned and leaned hard against her elbow. "At least I didn't have to eat anything." It didn't take Qui-Gon long to reach the cockpit although he wasn't certain as to whether he would like whatever his friend was going to say, judging by the rather abrupt manner she had put aside her attempts at preparing the meal. "Am I by any chance about to be on the receiving end of a lecture?" Jinn asked her. "Qui," Vernice leaned heavily against the doorway, hand against her head as she struggled to think how to phrase what she wanted to tell him. "Don't take this the wrong way…" "Uh-huh. It is a lecture. I thought as much." Qui-Gon seated himself in the co-pilot's chair and looked at her. "Go on then. Let's hear it." "Qui-Gon, you can't keep her." Vernice remarked crisply. "You make her sound like a cannoid." Qui-Gon felt his back straighten defensively. "I mean it, Qui. You can't. You know that. I've sat and watched the two of you. In the space of one day you have grown attached to each other." "What's wrong with that?" Qui-Gon snapped. "Nothing, except that the more effort you make to get close to her now the worse it is going to be when you have to go your separate ways." "I think you are overreacting slightly." Qui-Gon fixed her with his best ultra-patient "Yes-I-am-listening-padawan" expression and interlaced his fingers studiously. "I am trying to help the child overcome her problems and take her mind off the carnage she had recently witnessed. Are we to continue to tiptoe uncomfortably around one another for fear of saying something upsetting? Vernice, that girl is very unwell. She needs reassurance." "I know this!" Vernice rolled her eyes. "I just want you to think in terms of the future for once in your life, and forget about the living force! It's all very well you saying that she needs friends…of course she does! I was the one who had to beat you about the head with an invisible iron bar to get you to take her! But the fact remains that if you build up her hopes too much, if you get too fond of each other - and I see it happening with my own eyes - you are both going to be severely hurt when she's taken away from you." "You are being silly." Qui-Gon smiled back at her. "We've known each other for less than a day. That does not constitute being attached." "Qui, I remember the day Dex was first introduced from the crèche. He wandered over to you, tugged you by the hair and declared 'Hi, I'm Dex. I'm your best friend!'…and over forty years later you are STILL friends! Let's face it, you have a habit of picking up strays that nobody wants to befriend!" "I just want to make sure that the girl knows that she can speak to us if she needs to. I'd rather part knowing that somebody cared about me than feeling alone and helpless." "Wrong, you are bewitched." Vernice challenged him playfully, squaring up to him. "Aren't you?" "That is not true." "It is! You either can't see it or you don't want to. I have the feeling that it's the latter." Vernice studied his face for any betrayal of truth. "I know what you are like…" "And what am I like, pray tell?" Qui-Gon leaned right back in the chair to emphasize just how un-intimidated he was by her words. "Dex…Kabe…Yarina…" Vernice began to tick them all of one by one on her fingers. "They were all different. Dex was a jedi. He was new amongst the initiates and I just felt…" "…sorry for him?" finished Vernice. "Kabe was a street brat with nobody to look out for him. What was I supposed to do? Yoda approved of my looking after him!" Jinn replied triumphantly. "Only temporarily." Vernice could see Qui-Gon wilt slightly under her scrutiny. "And I can see that you wish to do the same for Jemmiah, even though you've had but a second or two to get to know each other!" "Friendships are formed in adversity." Qui-Gon quoted Yareel Poof. "What about Yarina?" "She was reunited successful with her parents. There was never any question of my looking after her." "So you admit that's what you are thinking about with Jemmiah?" Vernice tried to prod away at his defenses to get him to reveal his feelings. "Okay, what about Rela?" "Leave Rela out of this. It has nothing to do with her." Qui-Gon's face clouded slightly. "Hasn't it? I think it has everything to do with her. Her and the others. You couldn't look after them but you want to look after Jemmiah. Qui, the council will say exactly the same that was said in every case I have mentioned: a big, resounding no! They will not let you look after the girl. It’s as simple as that!" "She hasn't got anybody, Vernice. What is she supposed to do?" Qui-Gon asked her archly. "She's ten years old - barely that. Do you think that she'll get any suitable specialist care and attention at a children's institution?" "That is what they are there for. That's not what you are there for." Vernice reminded him. "That is just rubbish and you know it." Qui-Gon's blue eyes blazed at her. "They will take one look at her and see the words EMOTIONAL BAGGAGE written all over her and they won't want to know." "She's not your problem!" insisted Vernice. "So why make it so?" "I don't know." Qui-Gon finally confessed. "I have no idea. It just feels right." Vernice at last let out what seemed to be a pent up breath held forever inside and seated herself beside the man who had been both friend and lover in times past. She was right: she knew him very well although it gave her no pleasure to predict the fall she felt certain Qui-Gon was letting himself up for. He was an honorable man at heart, one who dislike to see cruelty - especially to children, which had so often led to hard luck stories and strays homing in upon him like wasps to a jam jar. Jemmiah was a deserving case, there was no question about it, but it was highly debatable the council would ever see it that way. She was a non-jedi and had no place in the temple even if she had secured a place in both her and Qui-Gon's hearts. "It feels right?" she echoed softly. "I can't explain it. Some things are just meant to happen. I don't believe that our meeting was by chance." Qui-Gon cast his mind back to their first meeting in the cellar: black as a dungeon, which it had effectively been for Jemmiah. He had been glad to be able to comfort her then, just as he was now. "She's quick-witted, intelligent and her liveliness has only been blunted by toil and illness. Despite everything you have said I have no intentions of sparing affection where I deem it necessary." "Like you can turn it on and off with a tap." Vernice muttered. "Qui-Gon, try thinking of this another way. What about your padawan? He is a student, a young boy learning to be a man and a jedi to boot. How would it affect him? How would her presence, temporary or otherwise, alter how you trained him? Think of the distractions and the disruptions? The council will not…" "Always we seem to come back to the council." Qui-Gon batted the retort away with his hand. "How many times have we both faced the council for not conforming to their will?" "The rules are still there for a reason." Vernice said in a soft voice. "Yes, we have broken them before. Yes, we've taken on the council before. We've also lost before. If you press this matter I think there is a high chance that you will lose again." "We cannot afford to." Qui-Gon stated simply. "And let me guess…you want my backing, yes?" Vernice shook her head. "Only if you are prepared to give it." The master shrugged, feigning very poor indifference. "And if I do, this is only until she is found a permanent home or any family she may have are located." Vernice warned him with a raised and chastising finger. "If that is the will of the force, so be it." Qui-Gon answered. "And do not worry about Obi-Wan, he likes the girl very much I think." Vernice was plainly unconvinced. The council had many reasons - good reasons - not to let Qui-Gon look after the girl when she recovered. Family units were not unheard of within the jedi order but were not common. There were a few noticeable exceptions but more than most it simply did not suit the majority of the jedi to have any kind of 'normal' life. Then there was the little matter of the missions that Qui-Gon and his apprentice were sent on. The potential for disruptions to family life were enormous! How would he possibly cope? How would any of them cope? Still, if it was only a temporary thing… "I will support you on those terms." Vernice surprised him by answering. "But I still beg you to be careful of the situation you're throwing yourself headfirst into. Is it fair on Jemmiah to get close to you and then have the stability you'll have given her taken from her?" "You'd rather I remained aloof and distant?" Qui-Gon queried in disbelief. "No…just don't go overboard or get too close. Don't make her think she can't do without you. She's lost everyone so far in her life: parents, family and friends…don't get her hopes up only for her to have them dashed. I couldn't bear to think of it." "I understand what you are saying." Qui-Gon reluctantly replied, not meeting her eyes lest his own betray his too obvious feelings on the matter. "I will do what is best." Vernice let loose a dazzling grin of relief. "That's good." She smiled. "Whatever is best for the child." Qui-Gon quantified his statement before standing up again and walking coolly out of the cockpit. It was always the same, reflected Vernice wearily. Whenever Qui-Gon got an idea in his head about something it took the devil of a job to shift it. Somehow when Nadine had made him promise to see Jemmiah was taken care of she didn't think she meant personally, but Qui-Gon was nothing if not committed to his word wherever possible. It was the law he lived and would no doubt one day die following. "Oh, Jinny." She covered her eyes with her hands, wondering if he really would make an effort to stand back from the child and not get further attached. "What do you think you are doing?" One thing that Obi-Wan could do was eat and that was exactly how Qui-Gon found him on his return from his meeting with Vernice. The boy was stuffing unappetizing noodles into his mouth as if the galaxy's noodle supply was on the verge of collapsing. Jemmiah regarded him with an expression of horrified admiration yet disgust, indicated by the rather grotesque grimace that was tugging lopsidedly at her face. "Ah, padawan." Qui-Gon nodded at Obi-Wan. "I was beginning to wonder where you had got to. Surely it didn't take you that long to remove your socks?" "You will have to forgive my master." Kenobi apologized to Jemmiah. "He has a very strange sense of humor." Jemmy turned her large, shining eyes up to Qui-Gon with good affect. "Sir…Master Jinn, I should say?" Jemmiah mumbled under her breath so that he could hardly hear. "I didn't cause a row there between you and Master Ashdal, did I? Because I really didn't mean to…" "Of course you didn't." Qui-Gon sat beside her and treated the Corellian to a huge smile that even had Obi-Wan staring in astonishment. "Don't give it another thought. Now, I believe you promised to eat something…" As Vernice followed him into the recreation room and caught the man fussing over Jemmiah, she closed her eyes, mentally counted to ten… And gave up. ******* Things continued in much the same manner. Jemmiah had played her promised game of cards with Qui-Gon but had been dismayed to find out that his force skills were proving just too much for her, beating her at every round they took part in. It only served for her resolution to kick in stronger than ever and she promptly went about trying to work out what it was about the way she played that betrayed to Qui-Gon exactly how well she was doing, or the kind of cards she held in her tight grasp. Jemmiah considered that she had what was called in the trade a 'sabaac face' that did not betray any emotions whatsoever. It was only now she began to understand that just because the jedi couldn't read her face he could almost certainly pick up what she was feeling through the use of this force stuff of his. There was nothing for it: if she wanted to play well she would have to toughen herself up mentally. The thing was that she felt too darned drained to be tough. Keeping awake was proving to be difficult at the table, even after having swallowed her token mouthful of food which she just knew was going to make her ill later on that night. The jedi master was kind but it seemed he had selective hearing and wouldn't listen to her. Why did men never listen? The boy Jacen…Obi-Wan, wasn't too bad, she admitted. His Master had finally relented and set about removing the extra braids until only one remained behind. Why Master Jinn didn't unclip that one too like all the others she didn't know, but at least he looked slightly more normal now. Slightly. Yawning, Jemmy had wandered off for a while to get some sleep (so she said) but when Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had next found her she was back cleaning their boots again, insisting that she got rid of all the dirt. The earlier words that Qui-Gon had muttered about not needing to do chores or of being released from her slavery had obviously fallen on deaf ears, and in the end Obi-Wan had made certain that she retreated to her room to catch up on her sleep. She'd requested somebody else in the room with her that night and Qui-Gon could well understand such a reaction to events of recent hours. Her first night away from Nargotria in five years. How would she cope? The logical choice of course would have been Vernice, being female and already having had a few days head start on knowing her, rather than himself and his padawan, yet Jemmiah had surprised all of them and selected - "Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon frowned, not understanding why he had been the selection. "Feeling a little put out?" Vernice grinned right back at him. "Hurt that she didn't choose her favorite jedi master?" "It has nothing to do with that." Answered Qui-Gon a little too swiftly to convince Vernice otherwise. "In all honesty I would have thought she might have asked for you. The choice of my padawan I do find a little strange, yes." "What's the matter with me?" Obi-Wan asked, blue eyes clouding slightly with wounded pride. "No, padawan. There's nothing wrong with you. I just would have that being female that she might have decided to…" "Obi-Wan and Jemmiah have only four and a bit years difference in age. It might follow that Jemmiah would like to speak to someone more her own age. It must be a bit of a novelty for her, talking to a non adult." Qui-Gon caught Obi-Wan's bristle at the remark and sighed. "It wasn't an insult, Obi-Wan. Just an observation." His master answered the petulant look aimed in his direction. "You are not an adult, even though - with the occasional lapse into childishness - your behavior is mature for your age." "Thank you, master." Obi-Wan replied with a small nod of the head. "I can take the fold down bunk. I have no objections to sharing a room with Jemmy." "Look, just be careful what you say to her," Qui-Gon pleaded as Obi-Wan began to head for the room, "She's had a traumatic day and the last thing she needs is somebody to…" Obi-Wan may have made it round the corner but evidently his words did not follow him as the padawan vanished from sight. "…keep her awake with chatter." Finished Qui-Gon. Vernice walked over to him, resting her hand on his broad, steady shoulder. "Do you mean to say that you wouldn't?" she asked impishly. "I talk about things I consider to be relevant." The dignified answer came right back at her. "Like how to cheat at Sabacc?" asked Vernice, snorting. "Bad habits there, me thinks!" "I am not worried what Obi-Wan might teach Jemmiah." Qui-Gon admitted reluctantly, lowering his voice incase anyone should hear that shouldn't. "I am a trifle concerned what she might teach him." "What do you mean?" Vernice swing her chair round to meet his own, relaxing in the two-way conversation. "She's a lovely girl, we both think that. So what are you afraid of?" "I'm afraid that she will teach my padawan how to beat me at cards!" Qui-Gon finally ventured, smiling at the notion. "Well, I couldn't possible have that!" |