This is the second story I wrote based on a real life occurrence. For explanations of martial arts terms, see the introduction to Worthy. Reviews and any other form of support are appreciated. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, and all characters in this story are based on real life people. You wouldn't know any of these people, except for the one Adriaan is based on :) If you are confused about anything (the fight scene can get pretty technical) feel free to PM me. I'll be happy to explain!

Notes

Form – a form is a routine composed of kicks, hand techniques, footwork, etc.

Slaughter rule - if a fighter is beating his/her opponent by a margin of 7 points, the ref ends the match by mercy rule.

Staging - dividing the competitors according to age, rank, gender, and weight.

Kaiyaih - martial arts yell.

Double-gold boy/girl - someone who won in both their forms and sparring division at the same tournament.

I don't have a father. I never needed one. Jacen is a pain enough as it is. Everyone says we are a well-suited Master/Padawan team, but I still have no idea what prompted my Master to pick me. He never paid any special attention to me when I was a youngling; in fact, he was always saying how much I stunk. "Why did the Force waste all this talent on a person like you?" is probably the most consistent phrase he uses with me. I don't know if he knows just how much it hurts whenever he says that, but whenever he does, I don't sleep at all that night, employing my time instead by killing myself with sparring drills. If Jacen knew I get up at night and practice, he'd still probably say it wasn't enough, that I was still his lazy little masseuse.

I have a variety of nicknames, not all of them flattering. I like "Rubber-band girl" because people refer to my incredible flexibility when they call me that. Some call me a "darkling" because of my dark side tendencies…whatever that means. I asked Jacen once, and he said it meant I don't work hard enough. Others call me a "stalker" because one of my favorite things to do is creep people out in the hallways by jumping out at them when they round the corner. No one believes me whenever I say I learned that prank from my Master. They're all fooled by that angelic smile – crowned by his enviably perfect teeth – he constantly wears on his face.

My Master calls me his "38 BBY brat" because apparently all children born in that year "Think they can get whatever they want by beating people up" but lately, I've been called his masseuse because one time he took all my clean clothes out of my room and hid them, so I took all his clean clothes and sold them to a thrift store dealer, and Jacen found out who was responsible – because I'm the only living person who dares to pull a prank on him – so he found me in a classroom sitting at the teacher's desk and told me to give him back his belongings. I refused pointblank, so he sat on my lap and said, "Won't the Jedi Masters find it strange and unorthodox to find the two of us like this?" so I spent the next hour kicking him in the back, trying to get him off of me. Finally, he told me where he hid my clothes, and I confessed I sold his, and gave him the money to buy it all back. He promptly rose and left the room, saying, "I win."

"How so? I get my clothes, you get yours; it's a draw," I shot back.

"Nah, because I get to brag to my friends that this all-muscle chick gave me this great massage with her feet, her elbows, her shins –" he paused subtly as I grabbed him by his necklace and pulled back. "– she even choked me. Aw man, they're gonna be so jealous."

"What friends?" I retorted, chucking the teacher's stylus at him, which he deflected superciliously as he ran out the door, laughing like a monkey lizard.

I received a text message from him later in the day. "I just signed us up for a Taikaido tournament on Corellia. Don't worry about paying for your cruiser line ticket; I just bought a suitcase that's big enough to stuff you in, you being the rubber-band girl that you are, and if anyone on the cruiser asks what's in my luggage I'll just say, 'Oh, that's just my masseuse; I bring her along to every tournament.'"

I texted back: "I heard Senator Slik Vel's masseuse murdered him last week by suffocating him in a sauna towel."

He tactfully did not reply, though the incident was brought up again as we boarded the cruiser line, and Jacen caught sight of one of the Taikaido competitors seated inside, who waved over for us to join him. As we sat down in the row behind him, the man turned and gave Jacen a big high-five. "Gonna get a gold medal this time!" the man said jovially.

"Yeah, because they moved you to the female division," Jacen shot back. The man laughed amiably, then caught sight of me.

"Ah, is this the all-muscle masseuse you were talking about earlier this week?" he asked innocently.

Two seconds later, he was on the ground with his hands pinned behind his back and my whole weight on top of him. Security droids rushed up, alarms blaring, the passengers in the cruiser screaming in terror, but loudest of all was my Master, who threw back his head and simply roared with laughter.

To Jacen's credit, he did explain the matter to the security guards before they dragged me away to a detention cell. The constabulary released me, and I in turn released my victim, who went to the back of the cruiser, rubbing his arms and muttering Huttese curses under his breath. I sat down, my face burning, and helplessly tried to ignore my Master's wicked smirk.

"Hilarious," he whispered. I glared and hit him, which he blocked in that annoyingly patronizing way of his. He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Now, Ree, you have to learn to control yourself. Don't want the security guards to come back here, do you?"

I didn't. I stuck my music player earphones into my ears and turned the volume up to the highest setting. Then I tried without success to relax and enjoy the flight within such close proximity to Jacen Palgwebb, who is quite possibly the most immature Jedi Knight in the universe.

I couldn't ask for a better Master.