Summary: "Why live life from dream to dream and dread the day when dreaming ends?"

Disclaimer: All hail GL and Will Jennings and Joe Sample for "One Day I'll Fly Away."

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Always the smiles. The smiles and the grins and the nods and the "thank you's." Smiling until it seemed my face would crack, but never once did the smile reach my eyes.

Every award, every honor, every lightsaber opponent vanquished and conquered – I smiled through them all. And you just smiled right back. You were so proud, so certain that you had such a wonderful apprentice. You knew that you must have done something right; how could you not have when you had such a successful Padawan.

And through it all, I just kept smiling. Nodding, grinning and offering thanks to all those that congratulated on my skill, or on your excellent teaching skills. Just smile and nod, nod and smile; and somehow you'll get through the day.

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He rose with the Coruscant dawn, entering the common area to find his apprentice already beginning the day's mediations. Smiling lightly as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Qui-Gon made his way to the kitchen. Normally Obi-Wan would have the tea started before he arose, but today the Master wanted to do something nice for his apprentice.

Reaching into the cupboard, he drew out the canister of hot chocolate that Bant had given to his Padawan on his last naming day. It was a running joke between the young Mon Calamarian and the fifteen-year old human; Bant always finding some new form of chocolate for Obi-Wan to enjoy. It was one of the few things the young apprentice ever showed a real joy for, and the special symbolism of it coming from a friend only made his eyes shine all the brighter.

As he mixed a cup of the sweet mixture for his Padawan, Qui-Gon reflected on the joy he saw all too seldom in Obi-Wan. The young man was a stellar student, and an excellent athlete; with many close friends and very few rivals. He had much to be thankful for, yet he never seemed to really get any enjoyment out of anything. It was almost like he won each competition and garnered each award just because it was there, not because he found any happiness in either the pursuit or the capture of the victory.

\Perhaps this is something we need to talk about…\ the Master thought, as he finished mixing the cocoa blend into the hot water. Turning from the kitchen counter and heading back to the common room to await his apprentice's rise from meditation, Qui-Gon's thoughts focused on how to broach the subject with his Padawan.

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Every award, every honor, every certificate and each first place- they were nothing to me. Only a slight vicarious joy in seeing you thrill at my success. To me, they were just one more thing to add to the pile of discarded thoughts and memories. Sometimes, on good days, I would reflect on how lucky I was to have the skills and knowledge to be so successful; but most days, I just pushed the memories aside. No reason to think of the past- just pick the next big goal and reach for it. Life is nothing but one accomplishment after another after all. It's not like there is really anything worth living for…

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Setting the steaming cup of hot chocolate on the low table beside him, Qui-Gon settled down onto the couch with his own cup of tea cradled in his hands. He didn't bother raising the lights, as the incoming light of the rising dawn served to highlight Obi-Wan in a greater relief than any artificial lighting ever could. The soft caress of the early morning light fell upon the young Padawan, adding a halo of gold to his ginger spikes. But it was the shadows that fell on Obi-Wan's other side that had the Master intrigued.

The light caressed the young man, claiming him as its own; but the shadows seemed to stake their own rights to Obi-Wan. It was almost as if the shadows illuminated what the light tried so valiantly to hide. And it was in the darkness, that the lines of sorrow were etched on too young of a face.

As he leaned closer, almost involuntarily, Qui-Gon was startled as the checkered eyelids flicked open. Serene gray eyes met startled blue, and all of the Master's musings were lost in the small smile the apprentice offered. "Good morning Master. Can I make you something to eat?"

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I tried to be the best at everything. I knew that if I could just win that one extra tournament, or get that one final award, I'd be happy. I just kept stretching and reaching, trying to find something to fill the empty hollows inside. I knew that someday I'd find something or do something that would make you so proud – so very, very proud – that maybe… I'd feel something too…

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Taking in the placid mask, that stoic Jedi façade that he had always been so proud of, Qui-Gon felt a slight chill. \Do I know you?\ he found himself asking, as the mixed visions danced before his memories: the boy illuminated by light, the serene mask of the Jedi Padawan, the young man - aged beyond his time by a sorrow so great.

"Master?" Obi-Wan asked as he climbed gracefully to his feet. "Do you want me to make breakfast?"

Realizing he had simply been staring at his Padawan, not offering any answer to the previous question, the Master shook his head slightly and spoke softly. "No Padawan, thank you." Gesturing to the cooling cup beside him, Qui-Gon forced a smile. "Actually I made you some hot chocolate. Why don't you sit down here with me and enjoy it?"

The edges of his lips curling into the slightest semblance of an expression, Obi-Wan shook his head. "Thank you Master, but I'm afraid I don't have time. I have to get ready for class." Sketching a slight bow, the young man disappeared into his room, sliding the door shut behind him.

Bringing his teacup to his lips, and taking a sip from the lukewarm brew, Qui-Gon didn't even notice as his hands shook slightly. \Perhaps this is something we should talk about…\