My guardians were called on to assist in overseeing some internal Jedi matters, so half the day they weren't even in, or at least Qui-Gon wasn't. In their absence, he gave me a few tasks: check to see if we needed anything and requisition it, and put in a call to Senator Palpatine's secretary to see if he was back yet. I had lost count of the days, but once the senator's name came up, I did a quick mental count and realized that it was two weeks ago to the day that he had seen us and mentioned his little trip. He was expected back any day now, and with him, a possible call to testify before the Senate. The Master would have checked into that himself had he not been called away to other business within the Temple, so he showed me how to contact the offices at the Senate and suggested I play the part of an assistant. I muttered something cheeky under my breath about "I'll have my people call your people," but he didn't hear it - or he didn't understand it. I waited until both Jedi were gone before configuring the communicator as taught and signaling Palpatine's offices. The pretty young female secretary answered politely. "I'm calling on behalf of Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn," I said in my best phone-voice, smiling into the screen. "Senator Palpatine had asked for his assistance on the matter of the Salji system?"

"Of course. Is there something I can help you with?" the woman wondered, though it was clear she didn't have a clue what I was talking about.

"Master Jinn is curious whether the senator has returned from his trip yet," I declared in a more straight-forward manner. "He's been detained two weeks on the senator's request."

"I'm sorry, but no, the senator has been delayed," the secretary informed me. "It may be a couple days yet."

"All right, thank you, that's what we needed to know." I was reaching to close the channel.

"Would Master Jinn prefer to be contacted by the senator when he returns?" she went on.

I hesitated. What would Qui-Gon want? "Uh...only if there is further need for his assistance. If Senator Palpatine doesn't need him anymore, I guess a message would be fine."

"I can do that. Your frequency and security clearance have been noted."

I thanked the woman and shut down the communicator, privately making faces at the blank screen. I would really rather not get stuck talking to ol' Palpy, thank you, I mentally responded. The news was a bit of a silver lining, though. It meant that I had a few more days of previously unforeseen time to spend with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, though I figured that even if Palpatine had returned that very day and contacted us, they would not leave on another mission until all the loose ends regarding my status were tied up. Qui-Gon would not depart Coruscant if there were still matters up in the air.

I was sprawled on the couch with my feet up on the arm, humming another song to myself as I made a note in my journal, when the door swished open to admit Obi-Wan sans Master. "Hey," I greeted him.

"What are you doing?" he queried, tilting his head to match mine as I lay staring up at him.

"The usual," I grinned. "What's up? Where's Qui-Gon?"

"He has been detained a bit longer. His expertise in the matter was needed, they have a few more things to discuss with him." Obi-Wan smirked a little. "And Master Plo Koon has asked to meet him for dinner."

"Oh, so we're on our own again?" Not that I minded much, but the Master's presence was definitely welcome no matter where, when, or why he was there. "He and Master Plo are old friends, right?"

"Yes, their friendship pre-dates my apprenticeship," the Padawan replied, still standing over me, looking down. "I know Master Qui-Gon has mentioned that as long as he was stationed here, he would like to spend time with Master Plo, but the Council has been very busy lately."

No kidding. I buried my snarky mental comment under a grin. "All right, then. What are we going to do?"

Obi-Wan eyed me and then folded his arms sternly over his chest. "I think you need some exercise."

"What?" I swung my feet off the couch and sat up. "Are you implying something?"

"No, nothing like that," he replied, though in a suave, decadent, most un-defensive way as he turned and walked back to the table near the door. "I was going to practice, myself, but as long as you're obviously not doing anything constructive, you might as well join me."

I watched him shoulder his way out of his robe and drape it over a chair, an enticed smile slowly crawling across my face. "Let me go change."

We had to descend several levels before finding an unoccupied practice hall, as most of the ones on the main instruction levels were filled with initiates honing skills of all kinds under the watchful eyes of Jedi Masters. We peered in on a couple sessions, and I realized quickly that any one of the ten-year-old munchkins in one hall could have kicked my butt. Some of the younger ones, too, though the very young were still learning to manage the Force and had not yet picked up a weapon. Obi-Wan tugged at my arm as he continued on, and I followed a half-step behind him as he navigated through the labyrinthine corridors into a wing clear on the other side of the Temple from where our quarters lay, though those were several levels above us. The ziggurat base of the Jedi Temple appeared to be constructed in a manner reflecting the path of a Jedi from birth to Master, not only in its outward stepped appearance. The lowest habitable levels housed the infants and young acolytes, with the next highest levels containing classrooms and practice halls for them, followed by solitary housing for Knights, then more practice areas, and then levels of multi-roomed housing for Masters training Padawans. The only living quarters higher than ours were for elder Masters and members of any one of the four Councils in the Jedi Order. The practice halls on several levels were busy at this time of day, but Obi-Wan found a small one in the far-off wing that would suffice, and discreetly ushered me in. Though it was official that I belonged under Qui-Gon's guardianship, neither of my Jedi friends were intent on invoking further wrath from the Council by being seen teaching me without being sanctioned to do so.

I tried to ignore the fact that Obi-Wan had activated a security lock on the door as we came in, instead walking around the hall slowly while beginning to stretch. "What's the plan?"

"Why don't we begin with the form Master Qui-Gon taught you a short time ago?" Obi-Wan suggested, coming into the center of the low-ceilinged hall and stopping to face me. "You do still remember it?"

"Yeah...I think so." I closed my eyes for a moment and stilled my mind, dipping into the Force for assistance. "Yeah, I remember it."

"Good. Only, this time, try to let go of your thoughts and let it come to you in the Force." The Padawan took a step back and eased himself into the opening position, giving me a sly sort of glare that made him look like a cat on the prowl. I took a breath and tried to call the Force to me, snatching at various techniques of control and meditation to try and get it to hurry up and guide me. Obi-Wan didn't wait, though; the instant I felt the Force respond and glimmer in my mind, he attacked. My hands flew up to defend myself, and before I even realized what was happening, I was halfway through the form. I kept my eyes on his movements, and my mind concentrated as much as possible on the Force alone, though once I recognized where I was in the pattern, I started to rely on my memory instead. If done right, the form ended with an opening where either combatant could make a move on the other, and the last time we had practiced Obi-Wan had shown off his skill by shooting a hand out and letting it come to a stop inches from my forehead, which had scared me to death. I decided to try to get the drop on him this time, or at least be prepared to block any such move. As the Force fed into my senses, my vision pulled back until my focus became those silvery-blue eyes in front of me and the movements of hands and bodies faded into the periphery. I saw his eyes narrow, and his brow furrow in a confused sort of look. I struck his hands away in the last move of the form and brought my forearm up for a screaming blow into his throat, but stopped just short of it. We stood there for a moment, panting, Obi-Wan staring at me over my arm pinned against his throat. Our faces were less than a foot apart. "Very good," he breathed after a moment.

I dropped my arm and smirked at him. "I wouldn't have done it, you know."

"If you had tried for real, you would be on your back on the floor right now," the Padawan threatened. He tried to smile, but it seemed slightly rattled to me. "Did you think about that move before you made it?"

"No, it just happened," I exclaimed. "I knew I had to do something so you wouldn't get the drop on me this time, but exactly what...no, that just happened."

Obi-Wan smiled for real this time. "Perhaps we should mention that to Master Qui-Gon, then. It sounds like your skill with the Force is still increasing."

"Cool!" I bounced up and down on my toes while he stepped back, pacing in a small circle. "Will you teach me another one, Obi-Wan?"

"Another form?" He turned and studied me for a moment. "Well...all right. Another easy one, maybe."

"Yeah, easy is good. But be careful." I playfully shook a finger at him. "Don't do anything that would hurt my knee again."

Obi-Wan consented and stepped closer to me, assuming an authoritative tone as he began. He took his time leading me in the varied steps of the form, starting slowly as his Master had done. He wasn't as hands-on as Qui-Gon, instead standing right beside me to be a model to which I could compare myself. This form was longer, and had one fascinating step the previous one lacked: a single spin block. "This is where you will have to really begin using the Force," Obi-Wan instructed, a little excitement coloring his voice. "For a moment, your back will be to your opponent. You won't be able to see him. When the Force is guiding your movements, however, your blow will land exactly where it needs to, even if you can't see your target until the last moment."

"What if he moves while I'm spinning?" I wondered.

His face brightened. "That is why the only weapons-training that still relies on set forms is the lightsaber," he answered smartly. "These forms are useful for practice, but rarely will you use them in an actual battle. With a lightsaber, you need a specific strategy for either disarming or killing your opponent, a series of moves that will bring about a certain goal. It's not just random hacking at each other, as some of the students believe when they first come to be taught the skill."

I nodded to show my understanding and urged him to continue. There were still six steps left in the form following the spin, though my mind was on that alone, both in anticipation of getting to use it and in fear of failing to execute it. Obi-Wan patiently led me through the rest of the steps, and then had me run through it beside him, the two of us moving in tandem, me a pale reflection of his grace and skill. I messed up, so we did it again and again until I had gotten it right, and then tried it faster. I wished I was on the outside looking in, because I wanted to see what it looked like for me to be matched with Obi-Wan, mirroring him, executing this form at a rate of speed that could turn a real fight deadly. But I could only look ahead, not at him, no matter how much I wanted to. To turn my head - and my focus - would destroy my concentration and cause me to fail. Even so, concentration and all, I still managed to accidentally whack Obi-Wan's arm while trying the spin block. The exercise immediately halted. "I'm sorry!" I yelped, covering my mouth with my hands and trying not to laugh.

"It's all right," Obi-Wan assured, smirking. "You're concentrating too hard."

I rolled my eyes. "First I'm not concentrating enough, then I'm concentrating too hard...I can't win!" I tossed up my hands in exaggeration. "I don't know. Maybe I just spun too hard."

"Let's try it again," my teacher exhorted. "And this time, I'll stand a bit further apart from you."

"Obi!" I whacked his arm again, deliberately.

He cringed and made to rub his arm where I hit him. "I didn't mean it that way. I'm serious, perhaps I was too close to you."

"All right," I grumbled, sidling away a couple steps. The Padawan took a step sideways himself and moved fluidly into the first step of the form, pausing and waiting for me to do likewise before beginning. To help myself I closed my eyes, and imagined myself in a fight facing an attacker, deflecting and dodging in the steps of the form. They came naturally to me, and for a while I let go and forgot to think, just moving in ways that felt right to my instincts. I struck, blocked, spun, and in six more steps was standing with my hands in front of me defensively, breathing hard. Opening my eyes, I gave a little cheer. "I did it!"

"Much better," Obi-Wan complimented.

"I could really feel it, that time," I said breathlessly, facing him. "It was like...it was like when I dance, and I don't really care about where my feet are stepping or what I look like to other people, I'm just abandoned to the music and it moves me." I peered up into the young face of the apprentice, who stood with his hands on his hips. "Is it like that when you fight?"

"In a way," Obi-Wan answered, giving me an intelligent look. "More so when I practice. Then, my attention is less on achieving a goal, and I am able to take pleasure in the form solely for its own sake. It's rather soothing to let go and enjoy the movement, to feel the Force respond around me."

I nodded in agreement. "Good exercise that way."

"Yes, it is." He dropped his hands to his sides. "Shall we have another go at it?"

"I think I'm going to sit this one out," I demurred, waving a hand. "I need to catch my breath."

Obi-Wan accepted my decision with the slightest of nods and unhooked the lightsaber from his belt with one hand. I moved away from him and found a ledge against the wall on which I could sit, and hopped up to watch, rubbing my knee absently. It was starting to hurt a little, as I might have stretched the injured muscle doing my fancy spin.

In the center of the practice hall, Obi-Wan stood with his left side to me, his lightsaber hanging loosely from his right hand and deactivated. He shook out his hands and arms, bounced a little on his toes like his movie character had done once upon a duel, and suddenly lunged into a ferocious lightsaber dulon, the blue blade zinging to life even as he was sweeping it up and forward in a devastating attack. Pivoting around an invisible anchor point in the center of the hall, he worked his way through a long and especially difficult - and beautiful - battle form, his eyes half-closed as he let go of conscious thought and drilled in Force-enhanced precision. He controlled the trajectory of his swings and blocks as if he were actually contacting another lightsaber, though all that resisted him was air. Forward, then backing away, then a leap and flip that turned him completely around, all the while painting broad arcs with the blue lightsaber in enviable perfection. For infinitely brief moments the saber hilt was being controlled by only one hand, sweeping magnificently low in a feint while Obi-Wan's feet flew upward in a butterfly-kick that made me gasp out loud in amazement. Maul's not the only one who can do that! Cool! Then, for a split second the hilt left his hands completely, the lightsaber twirling in the air before being caught again and thrust forward in a final blow.

"Woo hoo!" I shouted in the intervening silence. Obi-Wan's eyes darted in my direction, and a modest smile glowed on his lips. I clapped enthusiastically. "That was awesome!"

The lightsaber snapped off, and Obi-Wan eased himself out of the forward lunge his violent movement had thrown him into. "Thank you," I heard him murmur.

"You're not going to teach me that one, are you?" I teased as he clipped his saber to his belt and made his way over to where I sat. "That would violate my rule about my butt not going over my head."

"Your...oh!" After a moment's confusion, the Padawan chuckled. "That's right, I remember that." He reached my side and shook his head at me. "It would also violate several other rules, including Master Qui-Gon's own decisions."

"I know. I'm kidding!" I reached out and playfully nudged his shoulder. "C'mon, Obi."

Obi-Wan did not respond directly. He kept his eyes lowered, and gestured with a jerk of his chin. "How is the knee?"

"A little sore. Nothing to be concerned about, though, it happens every time I do something strenuous." I gazed curiously at him for a moment, wondering what about him seemed wrong. Then I noticed and crooked a finger. "Come here, a sec."

"What?" Obi-Wan's brow furrowed in question, but he obeyed, stepping closer to me.

I reached out and pinched his braid between my fingers, pulling it back behind his ear. During his aerial displays, it had fallen forward over his right ear and hung in disarray, so I fixed it. "There," I said in satisfaction, running my fingers down the braid and giving it a little tug. "Much better."

Obi-Wan blinked in mild astonishment, and looked up at me only to look away again quickly. "Thank you," he muttered again, reaching up to smooth out the braid's point of origin and then ruffle his hand through his short hair. "Well. Do you want to try that form again, or should we go back to quarters?"

The unexpected display of nervousness had me frowning in curiosity, but I did not ask him about it. "Um...we can do it one more time, sure."

"I know the form well. This time, I'll watch you do it, see if there is anything I can offer to help you improve," he suggested, already moving back towards the center of the hall. Unsettled by his demeanor, I shrugged it off and followed him, ready for one more go at the exercise and hoping I didn't screw up under the apprentice's watchful eye.

*****

Qui-Gon barely looked up as I slinked up behind him and leaned over his shoulder. Obi-Wan had just disappeared into his room following dinner and clean-up, so I took advantage of the moment to take care of something behind his back. "Question for you?" I hissed to the Master.

"Yes?" Qui-Gon blandly wondered, not taking his eyes off the datapad in hand.

"Can you requisition...like, housewares? Picture frames, gift-y stuff?"

The pad lowered. "Decorating items?"

"Yeah."

"No, the requisition office does not handle personal items. You would have to go outside the Temple to purchase those." Qui-Gon looked over his shoulder at me, his brow creased in curiosity. "What do you need?"

Giving Obi-Wan's room behind me a furtive look to assure he could not hear, I maneuvered around the Master's chair and crouched beside it to take him into confidence. "I want to get a picture frame, or something similar, that can preserve something." My journal was sitting on my cot just a few feet away, so I rushed over to grab it and brought it back. Paging into the back of the pad, I revealed the flattened spray of white - now yellowing - star-flowers.

Qui-Gon's eyes widened slightly, shining with interest. "Where did those come from?"

I lowered my eyes bashfully. "Obi-Wan picked them for me on Chad. I need to put them under glass so they don't fall apart any further...but I don't know where to get something like that."

A faint, wistful smile passed over Qui-Gon's noble face. He reached over, his large fingertips delicately brushing the flowers. "That's right. I remember now, seeing them there. You had them in your room." He took a breath and managed a stronger smile. "Well, I'm not sure I know where to find such things, but we might be able to find some time to look. You should have mentioned it sooner, we could have looked while we were out the other night."

"I keep forgetting about it," I explained, closing the notepad and returning it to my cot. "But don't tell Obi-Wan! I want him to be surprised."

"Very well," Qui-Gon nodded, picking up the datapad from his lap and resuming where he had left off. Obi-Wan returned, then, so I sat down quietly and made to deny that I was plotting anything.

Early the next morning, I was awoken by the sounds of struggle intruding into my placid dreams. Sitting up and throwing off the haze of sleep, hoping nothing had broken our security code and invaded the room, I saw in a matter of seconds that the struggle was man versus machine - or door, technically. Qui-Gon's bedroom door had been failing to fully close or open when alerted to approach over the past few days. Now, it had given up completely, and Qui-Gon stood wrestling with it, trying to push it open to let himself out of his room. The door resisted him and kept sliding shut if he did not hold onto it, until he managed to squeeze himself halfway through and the safety cushion activated as it sensed a body in the way. The door swished fully open with a lurch that nearly pulled the Jedi Master off his feet. Heaving a heavy sigh, he looked out and saw that I had woken up. "You all right?" I wondered.

"I believe it's time to call for repairs," he replied, shooting the errant door a withering look before passing through it and heading for the refresher. The door refused to close at all this time.

I huffed and rolled over to go back to sleep, but maintenance around the Jedi Temple was one of the most efficient offices, and before I could drift off again, a repair droid came around to quarters and set to work right away. The noise of the droid's gears and power cells was enough to keep anyone awake, much less someone sleeping on a cot right next to the damaged door, so I mentally cursed it and got up. My back and knee felt stiff and sore after the strenuous workout the night before, so I nursed my hurts by sitting immobile for a long time at the table with a mug of tea, watching the repair commence. It wasn't the first droid I had seen by a long shot, but it had definitely been a while since I had seen a working one up close, so despite my annoyance at the intrusion I was fascinated. About that time Obi-Wan rose, stepping through his door ruffling a hand sleepily through his hair, giving me something else to be fascinated with. He shot me a quick glance and a pale smile, and then looked at the droid again. "I'm assuming," he said dryly, his voice thick with morning, "meditation is postponed."

"On the contrary; we've meditated amidst distractions many times before, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon scolded, but in a warm tone. At that instant, something the droid did showered sparks from the console in the wall where it was poking, which fell harmlessly but filled the room with a tangy, burning scent. I jumped. "On second thought," the Master added, "perhaps we should take time for other things this morning."

"Have you been contacted about that meeting the Council mentioned about my housing, yet?" I wondered of him.

Qui-Gon gave a brief shake of his head. "No. I have spoken about the situation with others, but no meeting has been scheduled yet. Which reminds me." He set his cup down and looked over it at me, across the table from him. "As your guardian, it is my responsibility to make sure all your needs are provided for. Since no other decisions about you have been made yet, it is within my power to take you wherever you might need to go in order to obtain whatever can not be gotten inside the Jedi Temple."

I started to smile at him, reminded of the conspiracy we had formed the night before. "You mean, like...go shopping?"

"If that's what you need."

"Really?"

"Of course." Qui-Gon smiled, amused. "I have an allotment of Republic credits for my use as need may arise, all Jedi do. Until someone decides otherwise, my guardianship includes buying things you might need beyond what the Order can provide."

I couldn't help but laugh out loud. Though logical, the thought of Qui-Gon shopping for me cracked me up. "No way! That's awesome!" Getting a hold of myself, I grinned. "All right, that's probably a good idea. But I don't know what I need besides...what I can get here." One item came to mind, but I could not mention it before Obi-Wan.

"Well, we can visit some markets and look, just in case something springs to mind," the Master suggested. "I had intended on taking you for a tour of some important places to know on Coruscant, anyway, in case you should ever have need to travel outside the Temple without us to accompany you."

"M'kay," I agreed, taking a last gulp of tea. Any chance to get out of quarters, out beyond the same drab walls, appealed to me, regardless of the reason for it.

Once dressed and motivated, I went with the two Jedi down to transport level, eager to have another shot at the simple, low-impact adventure of exploring Coruscant. I expected us to take an air-taxi as we had the other night, the night of celebration, but instead of the docking platforms, Qui-Gon led the way into the hangar where all kinds of ships were kept. We strode along a broad causeway between docking slips, holding a steady pace even while weaving among mechanics, pilots, and other Jedi. The Jedi Order maintained few large craft of their own, but a lot of personal craft and small shuttles, for training Jedi initiates as pilots and for running errands among the tropospheric shipping lanes of Coruscant. I began to form a guess as to what we would be taking, seeing shuttles and speeders of familiar make. "Is Obi-Wan driving again?" I teased with a glance at the apprentice.

"We both are," his Master answered for him, swerving down another lane of the hangar. I followed him toward an open bay where very small vehicles were parked. Mechanics were tweaking some of them, and a tall human Jedi stood with a pair of initiates by another, presumably instructing them on how to drive them. Speeder bikes, my mind said, though I was not entirely correct. Qui-Gon strode up to a uniformed man and authoritatively said, "I'm Qui-Gon Jinn, I had reserved the use of a pair of swoops."

"Yes, Master Jinn!" the man beamed in recognition. "I was pretty surprised, it's not often you of all people request swoop bikes."

"Well, it's a matter of more personal than professional interest," Qui-Gon said modestly, "so they will suffice."

"Of course. Right this way."

The hangar officer led us to two of the swoop bikes nearest the exit to the docking platforms, their dull metal hulls faintly glowing with the sunlight filtering in. As we walked past the big, open doors, reminding me of garage doors flung wide, the wind screamed in at us and set the Jedi's robes flapping. "These two are ready for you," the officer shouted over the wind. "Take them for as long as you need, no one else has need of them today."

"Thank you," Qui-Gon acknowledged. The officer gave a slight bow in the manner of Jedi and left us.

All restraint of demeanor I had been able to keep up crumbled as I laid my hand on one handgrip of the swoop bike, and I found myself exclaiming, "Dude!" into the wind. From what I knew, swoop bikes were a part of Star Wars lore that I didn't go for, the unreliable Expanded Universe, but these definitely looked like something I might have seen in a movie. They were long, sleek, personal vehicles, slightly larger and more powerful than an average speeder bike. "Check this out," I continued to say to myself, aloud, my delighted ramblings vanishing into the wild wind.

I felt Qui-Gon's arm across my back, and looked up as he handed over a helmet. "Here, you'll need this."

"Safety first?" I joked.

"Not so much that as the comlink inside, otherwise we wouldn't be able to communicate in flight," he explained, picking up a second for himself. "That, and the air is very thin out there."

"Gotcha." I slid the helmet over my head and failed to stifle a squeal of excitement. It felt like Star Wars again, or better! I knew so many people who would have loved to be where I was.

In my right ear I heard, "I think that means Stacey's comlink is working."

I whipped around and grinned at Obi-Wan. "Check? Yeah, mine works fine." Hands-free, voice-activated comlinks - what could be better?

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon quickly checked theirs, and we were set. The Padawan climbed onto one bike, while Qui-Gon guided me with him to the other. "You'll sit in front of me," he instructed, and I heard him mostly over the comlink because the wind and the helmets themselves drowned out all external sound. "That way, I know you won't fall off."

"Oh, please don't mention falling off," I begged. "Don't put that image in my head, please!"

The Master chuckled quietly and climbed onto the second swoop, adjusting his seat until there was room before him for me. I hopped up into place and let my legs dangle over the sides. Why I was in front of him and not clinging to his back wasn't clear, because I assumed the bike operated under the same principle as a motorcycle, but as Qui-Gon started the machine and a repulsorlift field brought us up off the ground, I was so glad I wasn't behind him. The thought of my arms wrapped around his waist being the only thing to keep me from flying off the swoop was terrifying. What I didn't know was that the bike had a low-grade tractor field much like air-taxis. Still, Qui-Gon clutched me to his chest with one arm while guiding the swoop out of the hangar. We coasted slowly to the edge of the landing platform and paused to make sure we weren't about to leap into some ship's path. Qui-Gon let go of me. "Put your hands on the grips, next to mine," he instructed.

"Okay," I said, hearing an echo of my transmission in my ear. I cautiously raised my hands from where they had been clenched around Qui-Gon's legs and grabbed onto the handgrips in front of the Master's hands, since he needed to reach certain controls that were located on the grips. Even so, I tightened my thighs around the body of the vehicle in a death-grip. "Ready."

"Just relax," the Master's soothing voice sounded in my earpiece. "You'll be fine. Just don't touch any buttons."

I glanced down. Some of the swoop's controls were on a panel directly below me, almost between my legs. "I won't!" I promised.

He chuckled again. "And be glad I didn't let you ride with Obi-Wan."

I shifted my head to the left. Obi-Wan sat astride the swoop as if he were created to ride it, his posture cool and comfortable. He looked our way, but I couldn't see if he was grinning inside the helmet. "That's right, Mr. Need-For-Speed over there," I chided him.

The blue eyes sparkled merrily - yes, that was a grin all right. "You can ride with me on the way back, then."

"Ready? Let's go." Qui-Gon judged our path to be clear and gunned the engine, though his Padawan's swoop leaped off the platform a split second sooner. I sucked in my breath and closed my eyes as our swoop buzzed forward, my heart plunging down into my toes at the sudden disappearance of solid floor and the sickening lurch of the artificial field defying gravity. We descended for a bit to get out of the heavier lanes of ship traffic, though as I opened my eyes and watched the tops of Coruscant's buildings rushing towards us, I gripped the handles a little tighter. I loved roller coasters, but silently blessed the people of Earth who had built them with such marvelously secure safety measures - swoop bikes were infinitely more dangerous. But I couldn't fear falling with Qui-Gon's enormous bulk behind me, fencing me within his arms and shielding me against forces of wind and inertia. After our trajectory leveled off and we were speeding steadily along an open skylane, just a few hundred feet above the roofs of buildings that disappeared for a mile or two downward, the ride became downright enjoyable. There was a wide "plain" all around the Jedi Temple for many miles, formed by small buildings that were not permitted to be built any higher so as not to obstruct views of the Temple. It made me feel almost like we were riding motorcycles across Nebraska. Nothing obscured the view for a long way, very few spire-crowned tops poked through the main layer of buildings, and the true heights of towers and spires looked like mountains in the distance. A sunlit day shimmered on the acres of metal and duracrete, and thousands of ships trafficked the sky above us in neat lines. I relaxed a little and leaned back into Qui-Gon, grateful for his solid presence.

Before too long we reached the forests of stratosphere-scraping towers, and Obi-Wan led the way upward into a higher lane. I subconsciously became aware that I was relying on some oxygen source contained within the helmet, as we dove between the buildings and started weaving among them. Qui-Gon slackened his speed a little, and I heard him ask Obi-Wan to do the same. I was glad, because zooming back and forth and cornering at our previous cruising speed would have unseated me for sure, I thought. My heart kept sliding up and down in my chest like it did at every dip and bank of an airplane back home, though magnified because I was able to perceive the high speed on the small, open-air swoop. The one thing I did not do was look down; without the security of walls and floor or an enclosed hull, there was no way I was going to tempt vertigo by trying to see what was passing by beneath us. Fortunately, anything of interest flashed by beside or above us, where I could see it. Qui-Gon had been silent most of the way, aside from conveying short, curt directions to Obi-Wan, but as we darted between the gleaming transparisteel structures and up and down canyon-like avenues, he began to explain where we were. "The region between the Temple Plain and the government offices near the Senate is primarily marketplace," his voice crackled in my earpiece. "I thought about taking you to some of the upper-scale shops closer to the Senate, but from what I know of you, you would not enjoy that."

"Probably not. You're right," I told him. "Nothing fancy for me."

"But neither will we go to the lower-level market centers."

"You don't know who or what might be lurking in those," Obi-Wan added. His head turned briefly our way.

"They're mostly small, under-stocked, over-priced shops servicing the millions of individuals who live and even work right within the same building," Qui-Gon went on. "There are some citizens of Coruscant who never leave a single building all their lives."

"That's sad," I commented. "Kind of like people on my world who only stay within a block of their house all their life."

"Many of the structures we're passing now are like that," the Master informed me. I looked around. We had dropped back down to a comfortable cruising level, below the average height of most buildings, and were zipping down avenues between structures like canyons or tunnels, occasionally opening into a broad square where some shorter buildings clustered as if to defy any attempt to build around them and block their fleeting glimpses of sun. One time, such a clearing held a large municipal docking platform, which we had to go around at a great distance so as not to get hit by any of the ships taking off, landing, or circling in a holding pattern waiting for a spot. While the high peaks of elegant apartment towers and offices around the Senate were a sight to behold, glittering by day and twinkling by night, this was the real Coruscant, the average citizens in average apartment cells with average jobs who comprised most of the honeycomb base above which the legions of power rose. It was drab and dark, and the sun came seldom to some of these walls despite the windows which glared outward from them.

Obi-Wan muttered some directions to his Master, and we started climbing again, passing high over another municipal docking platform and emerging from the depressing gray canyons into an open field where a few slender towers stabbed up through the lower levels. One seemed to attract a lot of traffic, and toward that one we headed. There were small docking platforms at several staggered intervals up and down its length, tiny lights winking along their edges even in daylight. Qui-Gon gestured to Obi-Wan, and the two of them banked simultaneously and headed for one of the platforms. I remained silent while we landed, not wanting to distract the Jedi, though as we glided in and a solid surface appeared beneath our feet, I was tempted to let go of the handgrips and grab Qui-Gon instead. He brought the swoop to a halt without flourish and reached around my waist to flip a switch. The repulsorlift slowly deactivated itself, bringing us gradually down until the swoop rested on the platform. Qui-Gon helped me off first, and then slid off himself, taking off his helmet. "Now that's what I call a ride," I exclaimed as soon as I was breathing fresh air again.

*****

For someone with my personality and distaste for shopping malls, the trip turned out to be a bust. The vast indoor marketplace was as unlike a mall as a multi-level, enclosed center of various shops connected by wide walkways could be, but after less than an hour wandering around, it was clear that I wasn't going to need anything they had to offer. The clothing was too outrageous for my taste, and nothing else I saw seemed necessary. Toys, trinkets, and gadgets of all kinds, art and artifacts from distant worlds in and beyond the Republic, and wide selections of what I generically referred to as "decorative crap" were for sale, some at outrageous prices. There were a few curious things - a miniature holomap of key star systems, scale models of popular ships, jewelry from outlying systems - which I might have bought if I wanted, though anything that had educational value could probably be gotten inside the Jedi Temple. None of the jewelry inspired me to replace the plain silver hoops that had been in my ears upon my arrival, which I often forgot to wear entirely. I had completely ceased wearing my Mickey Mouse watch after the first or second day, since there was no sense trying to synchronize it with the local time on each of the different planets I had visited. Before I could ask Qui-Gon to take us home, though, he suggested that I not be afraid to want a personal effect or two, noting, "...after all, you still have the whistle I gave you. I would hardly call that utilitarian." Admitting he was right, I searched for something that would fill my lone need for a personal effect, and found it in a glass-shop. It boggled me that in a universe where much greater, more unique, more beautiful gems and crystals could be found or created, with results that could rival even Tolkien's Silmarils filled with living light, plain old silicon glass was a luxury. A gift shop full of fine crystals of all kinds had silicon glass ornaments and hanging frames, so I selected one and stood back while the shopkeeper coded the Master's Republic credit chip for the purchase.

Once we got back to quarters, following another breathtaking swoop ride that securely implanted the desire to never leave this galaxy into me, I sat down on the couch to study the frame before taking it apart. It had two thin glass panels joined by a tight-fitting metal frame that created a sort of vacuum seal that would preserve any object or memento between the glass. As intensely curious as ever, Obi-Wan sat down in a chair facing me to watch. Opening my journal, I gently picked up the dried flowers and laid them on one panel, adjusting them into the perfect position before settling the second panel on top and securing the frame. Air was forced out from between the glass with a hiss as I bent the clasp back into place, and the flowers were secure at last. I held it up, finally able to behold the stunned look on Obi-Wan's face. "See?"

"My flowers," he breathed.

"Yep." I twirled the frame in my fingers. The star-flowers were now preserved in a three-dimensional frame that I could either hang or stand to see all sides of them. "What do you think?"

"I still can't believe you kept those," the Padawan said in a shy voice.

I leaned over and squeezed his hand. "I told you, you gave them to me. Of course I'm going to keep them. For good, now." Sitting back, I admired the frame a bit longer, wondering where I could hang it. At the very least, having it, even keeping it wrapped in a velvet cloth and stored with the whistle-box, was better than letting the petals crumble in the back of my journal.

"That's...incredible," Obi-Wan continued to quietly muse, shaking his head. "When I gave them to you, I...never expected it to come to this."

"Let me see." Qui-Gon came over, and I held up the glass for him to look at. "They're beautiful," he complimented. "You have an eye for things of beauty, Obi-Wan."

The apprentice looked up sharply at his Master, and his cheeks flushed red. "You know...?"

"She showed me last night." Qui-Gon's eyes twinkled with mirth. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about, Obi-Wan. I think they're splendid."

"Thank you," I added, laying my hand on Obi-Wan's. "Again."

Lowering his eyes, Obi-Wan slipped his hand out from under mine and got up. "I'm glad you like them," he said absently as he darted out of the room, disappearing into his bedroom.

I frowned up at Qui-Gon. "What was that?"

Qui-Gon looked after his Padawan's retreat. "I don't know," he said curiously. "I've never seen Obi-Wan act that way."

"I hope it doesn't have anything to do with...you," I fretted.

"Me?" Qui-Gon turned back to me, puzzled.

"Since...I care about both of you."

The Master's face sobered. "Yes, I see. I hope not. I sensed no jealousy just now."

"No, but...there's other things, I guess." I cradled the flower-frame in my hands, looking down at it. The sheen of the glass brought life back into the dead petals, as light shone through them and made them look white again. "I hope I didn't embarrass him."

Qui-Gon's gaze had turned away again, his eyes keen and brow furrowed. "No, it's not that either. I don't think it was any fault of yours." He glanced back at me and smiled. "You've done no wrong. But, only Obi-Wan can explain what he feels right now." He nodded at me as he drifted toward the kitchen. "You might want to talk to him."

I sighed. "Talking" was not one of my favorite things to do, I wasn't very good at it. I decided instead to do what I always did and let it go unresolved.

The lingering stiffness in my back and shoulders from the previous day's exercise was not alleviated by the riding and walking; on the contrary, after getting back to the hangar, I felt a stab in my lower back as I tried to hop off the swoop bike. Sitting down the rest of the day was my preferred method of recovery, though there were others I could have entertained. The idea of a backrub crossed my mind more than once, but I lacked the courage to ask Qui-Gon if he would oblige, it seemed like one of those silly things that were beneath a Jedi Master. Then he got called to visit someone, I didn't hear who, and disappeared for the evening, leaving me no chance to ask him. I sighed and curled up on the couch, listening to the soft taps of Obi-Wan's fingers on the keypad of the communicator across the room as he looked into some matter on his Master's request. I looked up from my journal, admiring the Padawan's graceful slouch as he stared in concentration at the screen and tapped his way through reports. His robe cascaded down around him in the chair, though the sleeve of his left arm had fallen away as he thoughtfully pressed his hand to his lips. Simply gazing at him did neither of us good, though, so I went back to the business of mentioning what had happened today in my journal. At the end of the page, I jotted myself the note Obi-Wan is acting sort of weird... and left it trailing off as an unfinished thought.

The scant light from the small window above me gradually disappeared, forcing me to reach for a lamp so I could keep at my work. Obi-Wan left the communicator and came over to the sitting area, lowering himself into a chair. "Hey," I greeted him with a smile.

"Hello," he returned, his own smile barely-there.

"Find what you were looking for?"

He took a breath before answering. "I think so." He craned his neck to see what was on my pad. "What are you working on?"

"Mm...nothing," I said, closing the pad and reaching to set it on the nearest table. The twinge in my lower back protested, and I involuntarily hissed at it.

Obi-Wan sat up instantly. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," I groaned, settling back into the couch. "I think I just overdid it yesterday. I'm a bit stiff."

"Would you like me to see if I can do something about it?"

I tried not to blush, though the offer was astoundingly welcome. "Oh man, would you? I would feel a lot better."

He gestured me to him, and bade me sit down on the floor in front of his chair. Shrugging out of his robe, he tugged up his sleeves while I sat down with my back to him, trying and failing to wipe the delighted grin off my face. I had thought about asking him to do this for me, but considering his strange behavior over the past couple of days, I hesitated, in the event it would overstep some boundary. Though, he had given me a perfectly innocent backrub once before, so I knew he could do it well. All I wanted was some relief, I had no ulterior motives. Well...very few.

Obi-Wan's hands squeezed down on my shoulders, and I heard a disapproving sound in his throat. "You are tense. You must be in a lot of pain."

"A little," I confessed. "It's nothing, just over - ahhh..." His thumb dug into a knot in my back, and I went limp as if he had pressed a button. "Yeah, there. Ouch..."

"Just relax," the Padawan murmured, his hands expertly working over my shoulders and back, massaging out the kinks. I grimaced and growled when his fingers found the painful knots in my over-exerted muscles, but each twinge of pain was shortly followed by exquisite bliss as it was released. I fell as far forward as I could, resting my arms on my knees, closing my eyes as my body warmed from stiffness to relaxation and a haze of endorphins blanketed my mind. I groaned at the feel of Obi-Wan's ministrations probing lower down my spine, making deep sweeps to cover every muscle and soothe every joint of bone and nerve. The lower he reached, the closer to me he had to lean, until I felt his breath on the back of my neck. Then his fingers dug into a spot in my lower back that made me recoil and cry out. He sat up sharply, withdrawing. "I'm sorry!"

"No, wasn't you," I groaned, reaching around to rub the sore spot. "That's the part that hurts the most. It was really bad this morning, but it seemed to get better throughout the day."

"Your lower back? Where?" The apprentice's fingertips glided gently back downward. "Here? Or here."

"No...yeah, right there. All in that region." I flinched again as he probed a spot. "Ow! Yeah, there."

I heard the shuffle of tunics sliding, and glanced behind me to see Obi-Wan kneel down directly behind me, his chest nearly resting against my back. "I can try to take some of the pain out of it," he offered. "Sit up a little, not so far forward."

"Okay..." I complied, and his thumbs pressed down on the strained region of my back so hard that I yelped again, but this time, he didn't take his hands away. The pressure increased, moving slowly downward, and with it came the tingling electricity of the Force. Closing my eyes again, I grabbed for the Force like a trailing thread of spiderweb, hoping to encourage its healing power. Obi-Wan knelt over me, almost on top of me, so he could better reach the knots and strains and pour his full strength into working them out. It took some time, but the pain began to lessen, and a warmth spread all through my lower back. I was able to sit up further without shooting pains going up my spine and down into my legs, and sighed heavily at the splendid feeling. "That's much better," I breathed. "I've had that problem for a while. At work, back home...I was usually on my feet for eight hours straight, after a while I just developed that pain and it doesn't go away."

"We'll have to be careful, so you don't strain it again," Obi-Wan cautioned, his voice low and rich in my ear. "I wouldn't want you to injure it."

His hands started back up my spine, his fingers splaying outward along my ribs providing decadent encouragement to the bliss I could already feel up and down my back. I was unable to say anything but "mmmf" as Obi-Wan worked his way to the nape of my neck, and spent a moment ferreting out the last bits of stiffness. Further up he went, along my neck, up under my hair, stretching his fingers to cover my scalp. I went completely incoherent, it felt wonderful. My already-weak back gave up supporting me, I leaned into Obi-Wan as he still knelt behind me. The scalp-massage trailed off, leaving him gently combing his fingers through my hair, both of us silent and lost in the moment. It was then, as my head bobbed forward sleepily, I felt the warmth of his proximity against the side of my neck, followed a heartbeat later by the brush of his lips.

A breath rushed into my lungs in a startled gasp. I suppose I should have expected it, lying as I was against Obi-Wan, him kneeling in a potentially compromising position behind me, but it took me completely by surprise. The support beneath me suddenly gave way, as the Jedi apprentice struggled to his feet and backed away from me. I caught myself with a hand behind me and turned to face him, staring up at him as he stood over me with his hands covering his face. "Obi-Wan," was all I could say, wonder, delight, and concern automatically mingling in my voice.

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan moaned, taking his hands from his face long enough to say it, though he kept his eyes averted away. After a tense moment he spun on his heel and made to leave.

"Hey, wait!" I cried. "You can't just...kiss me like that and then walk away. Get back here!"

He halted, but didn't return to the sitting room. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"Obi-Wan, come here," I implored. "You've been avoiding me the last couple days. Don't run out on me now, come back here." I pushed myself to my feet and couldn't stop a sigh of relief. Ooh. My back felt really good, now. Some of the hazy blissful feeling was still lurking in the periphery of my senses, so I wisely took a seat in the chair he had vacated, lest I fall over.

It took him a moment, but Obi-Wan returned to the sitting room, cautiously treading to a spot not quite in front of me, still avoiding a direct gaze. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I had no right."

"What are you apologizing for?" I queried. "It's not like I didn't enjoy that."

"But..." He sighed worriedly, and his next words whispered out on a breath. "You don't understand."

I gave him a plaintive, questioning look. "No, I don't. Can you explain it?" I paused, but he made no move to answer. "You've been kind of distant, lately. Have I done something wrong?"

"No," Obi-Wan immediately replied, his head lifting. "You've done nothing. The fault lies with me. I..." He trailed off and turned his back to me.

"Obi-Wan, you're worrying me," I gently prodded. "What's wrong?"

His shoulders lifted with the force of a sigh. "I am torn," he began, "between two opposing forces. My desires are getting out of control, and I don't know what to do."

I absently touched my neck, as if checking for evidence of what he had done. "You...think you lost control just now?"

"I don't know." The young apprentice turned back toward me, taking one hesitant step closer. "I'm not sure what is right, for someone like me, to want. I am torn between duty and personal feelings, more so than my Master, I think. There's...more than that involved, though." He hesitated, his eyebrows twitching as emotions passed through his mind, before stepping even closer and continuing. "I've talked with Master Qui-Gon about it, but I haven't mentioned anything to you, yet."

I was puzzled. "What is it?"

"My sense of you has been getting stronger. Much stronger. You see..." He started pacing slowly in front of me. "...Master Qui-Gon has always had a perfectly normal sense of you, ever since the transfusion. He senses you like he would sense any other individual, but until recently, the sense I had of you was more faint. It was more difficult for me to feel and respond to you."

"Yeah, I kind of noticed that, it's the same for me. I've called to you, though," I pointed out, "a couple of times. On Chad, and when I was looking for you and Qui-Gon in Thara..."

"Yes, and those were leaps also. But this is something else. That night last week, when I walked with you..." He halted his pacing and faced me squarely, a strange mix of emotions in his ice-blue eyes. "...you sent me an impression. I felt it clearly. I knew exactly what you were trying to project to me, and...I responded."

Awe slowly crept over me. "You held me after I willed you to."

"That was the first time you have been able to share an impression with me. It seems to indicate that your sensitivity is growing again, but also that...that you and I are...the bond between us is strengthening."

I held still for a while, waiting to be sure that he had said everything he meant to before responding. "Is that what's been bothering you?"

"Well, no...yes. I'm not sure." Obi-Wan lowered his head and resumed pacing in frustration.

"I don't mean to confuse you any further," I insisted, sitting forward on the edge of the chair and folding my hands together in my lap, "but it seems to me like you've been...I don't know, pulling away from me or something. Does that have anything to do with being more strongly attuned to me?"

"In a way." He halted again, this time at the apex of his pacing, off to my left. As he turned, his fretful expression had softened somewhat. "It gave me pause to think. If the link between us becomes equally strong as the one between you and Master Qui-Gon, then...well, quite honestly, I'm not sure what to do with the feelings I have for you." Obi-Wan's voice became as soft as flower petals, and just as sweet, as he poured forth his heart. "I do care for you, very much. I know you care for me, and you also care for Master Qui-Gon in the same way. I can't imagine how difficult it would be for you to make a choice between us if we became equally bonded with you through the Force."

"Wait...choice?" I interrupted, frowning. "Who ever said I was going to make a choice? I'm just doing like Qui-Gon suggested, taking one day at a time and seeing where things go. I don't want to have to choose one of you over the other, Obi-Wan."

"But, perhaps, in time, it will come to that," the apprentice worried. "And it occurred to me that if I let my personal feelings override my common sense, I will be too close to you to withdraw without getting hurt if you choose Master Qui-Gon."

"I'm not going to choose," I repeated desperately. "Obi-Wan, that's silly! I told you, I'd rather die than hurt either of you. I'm not going to snub either one of you in favor of the other. But...there's no reason to be even thinking of this. Take each day as it comes. You start pushing for a conclusion prematurely and someone is going to get hurt - remember what happened on Chad?"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly. "I know," he murmured. "I remember. Therein lies my reason for...distancing myself. I am concerned that I've let my personal feelings interfere with my judgment, be it my feelings for you or my fear of being hurt."

I gazed anxiously up at him. The conflict in his mind was unmistakable, it poured off him in waves of turmoil in the Force. I would have done anything in that moment to ease his confusion. "Aren't you the one," I speculated, "who counseled his Master that 'anything of value carries the risk of hurt?'" Obi-Wan looked sharply at me. "Do you want to hold on to your feelings, or make them go away?"

"No, I don't want them to end," he answered right away. "That's not..." The light in his eyes and the look on his face showed me that he had reached a conclusion that made the rest of his comment unnecessary. "Oh."

"It's okay," I quickly reassured him.

"I'm sorry if it looked that way to you. I do care for you...very much." The petal-soft tone returned. "But the problem remains. I don't wish to sacrifice my duty and the Jedi Code to my personal feelings."

"And I wouldn't want you to. You know that." He turned away again, and I sighed. "Maybe you should talk with Qui-Gon. I can't counsel on you on what to do about your duty or what level your feelings have to reach before they interfere with it, only your Master can do that."

"Perhaps you're right," he murmured.

"But, you know what? You're lucky you even know how I feel about you. I've never told anybody I had feelings for them because I'm so scared of being hurt." I paused to let it sink in, and knew I had said the right thing when Obi-Wan slowly turned toward me again, his eyes alight with wonder and sadness. "It's true. I took a risk opening myself up to you and Qui-Gon - though I have to admit that the Force really helped, there. It's been hard, but...so far I don't regret it."

Obi-Wan stared at me for a long time, though I dropped my eyes to focus on my clasped hands instead. Then, he stepped in front of me and lowered himself to his knees. Startled, I looked up to find his blue eyes warm and liquid looking back at me. "If you can risk your feelings," he whispered, "I suppose I can, also. But, Stacey...I don't know what to do. My desires are at war with my sensibility."

"Talk to Qui-Gon," I pressed, laying both hands on his shoulders to emphasize my words. "Do it before you even go to bed tonight. He's your Master, he can guide you - or at the very least, meditate with you," I added with a little chuckle. Obi-Wan bowed his head to hide his own weak chuckle. "As for what happened tonight..." Oh, how to say this? "...it was very nice. But, if you're not comfortable, maybe we're pushing a little fast. We can go more slowly, give it time to develop naturally. Especially if you think your desires are getting out of hand. I can understand that."

His head drooped even lower. "I'm sorry to have to put you through this."

"Don't be. Just relax. Let whatever happens...happen. Okay?"

Obi-Wan glanced up, nodded briefly, and then slumped forward and curled his arms around my waist. I hugged his head to my chest, threading my fingers through his soft hair. His forehead rested just below my sternum, his face and expression hidden from me, though I could feel him shudder once while I held him. I felt like a mother holding her frightened child, in a way, as I comforted the Padawan in his time of struggle - never mind that I was the source of his struggle. After a couple of ragged sighs he settled down, content to kneel before me and rest his head against my middle while I cradled him and stroked his hair, while a long silence enfolded us both.

Eventually, a mutter worked its way out of the overlapping folds of my tunic. "Master Qui-Gon should be returning any minute now."

I wondered how he knew. "Okay," I acknowledged, combing my fingers one more time through his silky ponytail before releasing Obi-Wan. He sat back on his heels and gazed expectantly at me. "I'm going to go wash up, and get ready for bed. I'll stay out of your way so you can talk to him."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said quietly. I cupped his cheek in my hand and smiled at him before getting up and sidling past him. It didn't take long to collect my sleep-clothes from his bedroom and close myself in the refresher, eager for a long, hot shower in which to think. I stretched the newly-massaged muscles of my back under the hot water, hoping to keep them loose and pain-free a while longer, and for a time that took my mind off Obi-Wan. He was such a wonderful young man. I could hardly believe, myself, that despite very strong feelings for Qui-Gon I also adored his apprentice to such depth and certainty. Inwardly, I knew that his concerns were not completely unfounded - I, too, had been wondering how in the world I would choose between them. I could only hope to keep the semblance of "letting things happen as they happen" until feelings for one of them ceased.

By the time I finished my over-long shower and nightly routine Qui-Gon had returned, and the Jedi pair were seated on the couch already talking when I came out. They both hushed as I darted across their line of sight. "I'm not here, you don't see me," I tried to joke. "I'm just going to Obi-Wan's room for a bit. At least I know the door will close all the way."

"My door is fixed," Qui-Gon reminded.

I smiled at both of them. "I know." I ducked through the doorway and let it hiss closed behind me.

On to part 36

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