Evasions
PG
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Written for a challenge on Jello Anarchy, the hippest place on the interweb.
Summary: Dooku wants to meet Qui-Gon's Padawan. He's turned down--again.
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"Now, Qui-Gon, you can't shelter the boy forever."
"Of course not, Master, but I wish you would respect my feelings. He is my apprentice, after all. I have the gray hairs to prove it."
"Indeed," Dooku chuckled, "And I have quite the collection myself. You were not an easy charge to reign in."
Qui-Gon smiled blandly at the reminder. "Ah, but you always found a way."
The streets were heavy. Dooku preferred the polish of the eateries near 500 Republica, and the two Jedi found themselves in the midst of the lunch traffic there, moving amongst politicians and the Coruscant business elite. Qui-Gon was not uncomfortable in such an atmosphere, but it was not what he himself would choose. He could not, however, envision his old teacher sliding into a booth at Dex's diner.
Still, it was an interesting image. He swallowed his inappropriate bubble of laughter.
"I'm glad the Council gave you a respite," Qui-Gon commented, eyes casually flicking from face to face as they walked.
"I as well. On Coruscant, one can so easily forget the more... unkempt areas of the galaxy. It is a relief to breathe in civilization again."
For years now, Qui-Gon's former Master had spent more time away from Coruscant than on it, and his stays at the Temple were even more scarce. Qui-Gon wondered if perhaps Dooku arranged this elusive existence for himself.
Qui-Gon could not honestly claim to mourn his frequent absence. After all, his own life was full. "Sometimes I think I breathe in too much civilization."
Dooku snorted. "With your methods? Please. You make it a point of attaching yourself to every uncivilized rapscallion you come across."
Qui-Gon answered with a wry, unaffected smirk.
"Which is why I wonder if the good things I've heard about young Kenobi are true. I expect that he is at least an orphan of some sort."
Qui-Gon crossed his arms in his sleeves. He thought his earlier words would have been enough to close off the subject of Obi-Wan. "On the contrary, Master, his family was well-bred. Though I doubt that would interest him."
"Yes, I am sure you have taught him to meet such matters with proper scorn. Does he smuggle bedraggled street pups into the Temple as well?"
"I'm afraid I don't rub off on him as much as you'd think.'
Dooku raised a brow. "Oh no?"
"He is quite independent-minded. He has his own ideas; I do my best to allow them the space to flourish."
The sun was at its pinnacle. Qui-Gon half-squinted to see Dooku's face through the day-glare. "Space? I wonder how much space you truly allow him when he is not even permitted to meet his Master's old Master?"
Qui-Gon stopped. He sighed, looking in the man's black eyes. When he was a child, he was always mystified by those eyes--the pupils seemed to melt into the surrounding darkness. "You know it is not as simple as that."
"Isn't it, Qui-Gon?" Dooku countered sharply, "I am a respected Jedi Master. Why, one of my former Padawans is regarded among the best in the Order, now. Is Obi-Wan Kenobi so difficult to impress?"
Qui-Gon regretted accepting Dooku's invitation. He wasn't sure why he did. Anymore their conversations seemed an uneasy sidestepping of the topic of Qui-Gon's student...until, of course, Dooku came out with it. "He is young. The life of a Jedi is difficult enough without involving him in our...complications."
"What complications?" Dooku asked cooly. "I am practically the boy's grandfather. Is it asking so much to want to shake his hand?"
Yes. "No. But I do wonder why you are so rarely on Coruscant." He paused, searching carefully for the right explanation, "I've heard...that the Sith archives were accessed again. The archives restricted to high ranking Masters. When you were last on planet."
Dooku appeared unruffled. A smile curved his thin lips. "Are you insinuating something, Padawan?"
"Of course not. Only that curiosity can prove dangerous, my Master."
"Knowledge is never dangerous. I have studied the Sith before, as have others. There is much to learn from the greatest of Jedi failures."
They stood at the sleek cafe entrance. A crowd of bejeweled humanoids shuffled inside. Qui-Gon stepped closer to Dooku. "This is exactly why you haven't met him. You would expose him to things he is not ready to understand."
"I sense a bitterness in you, Qui-Gon," surprise stirred in the cultured voice, "From what I've gathered about young Kenobi, he is in no danger of corruption. I'm happy to see you've improved your taste in students."
Qui-Gon breathed in slowly. "It is possible to discuss my current apprentice without dredging up the past. But since you thought it prudent to mention him, your interactions with Xanatos have given me pause."
Dooku straightened with an indignant regality. "I held only a grandfatherly interest in the boy. I can't help that his fascination in the darker aspects of the Force transcended the scholarly."
Qui-Gon's hands slid down to his hips. "You did not discourage his fascination."
The graying Jedi stared hard at him. "I was not his Master, either. My own Padawans have gone on to great success in the Order. Perhaps I am not the one who is a dangerous influence on the lad."
Their gazes remained locked. A Twi'lek and her blue-skinned companion slipped between them, muttering about clueless old Jedi.
Qui-Gon shook his head, wiped wearily at his face, and took a step backward. "I've lost my appetite." He glanced through the dark cafe doors. "It looks busy anyway."
"Then we should reschedule. No matter our differences, you are still my Padawan. In spirit, if nothing else." Dooku gripped his arm briefly. "Believe me when I say, Qui-Gon, that I am very glad your Padawan inspires such protectiveness in you. For so long you seemed to have nothing inside you, save sadness and regret. It hurt me to see it."
Qui-Gon exhaled, releasing some of his festered anger. He found the man's hand and squeezed it. "Thank you, my Master. I do not miss those days. I find life much brighter now."
"May it always be so," Dooku smiled, "And one day, perhaps I will lunch with my Padawan and my grandpadawan."
"Perhaps," Qui-Gon conceded, if only to preserve the moment.
Dooku was still. He looked uncharacteristically frayed. "I am not a young man, Qui-Gon. I hope it doesn't take you too long to come around. I would like to meet Obi-Wan."
Qui-Gon felt his chest tighten at the simple confession. "You will, Master. You will."