BEARD: Part three

By Jemmiah

*******

Why?

Why was he so nervous?

After all this time and all the years he had known her, all the things they had experienced and shared…he felt as if he were a giddy young man again on his first date! It made no sense to him at all. The force was of little help to him in clearing his mind or focusing his thoughts on the task ahead, all Obi-Wan could think of as he stood there brandishing a rather sorry looking bunch of flowers he'd stolen from an outdoor café was the rather obvious hammering of his heart. It no longer seemed to exist inside his chest cavity where it usually dwelt but instead seemed to leap precariously in his throat.

//Idiot, to get so worked up like this.// Obi-Wan chided himself as he stood on the other side of the door, waiting to depress the chime. //Pull yourself together man! What will she think of you?//

He needed to get away from the temple for a bit, it was that simple. There was a certain amount of guilt for arranging Anakin to spend the night with Master Sidatu and Toms Yarrel, but Anakin at least genuinely liked Toms and had all but leapt at the chance to escape from his master's strict supervision. He hoped the boy wouldn't cause any trouble because Toms was every bit as capable of causing mayhem and mischief, infact more so. He was after all a Corellian…

Toms was not the Corellian that was occupying his thoughts, however. The individual he was seeking was someone of a far more attractive and feminine persuasion. He just hoped that she would feel comfortable with him in the same room again - the shock of seeing him after all that time when he had visited Rela and Simeon's place had almost proven to be too much for her. He'd thought that odd because before that, a year or so ago, they had parted on quite reasonable terms, even if the circumstances had not been pleasant.

Jonas was gone now. Who did she have left to rely on but her friends?

//Press the door chime, Obi-Wan. It's only a door. It won't bite you!//

His shock of course had been no less than hers, seeing her standing there…

//Kenobi, you are more nervous than Anakin trying to dodge a punishment!// he let his finger hover around the chime momentarily before stabbing at it, wincing as he staved his finger.

Surely she would want to see him again? As a friend? How could she not want to see him? And if he believed that so much, why was he so scared?

The com crackled into life and Obi-Wan stared up at the security monitor.

"Who is it?" the familiar voice asked, trailing off as the picture revealed the identity of the visitor before the words were barely out of her mouth.

"It's Obi-Wan." The somewhat nervous voice replied. "May I come in?"

There was a frighteningly long pause and Obi-Wan wondered if she had simply switched off and walked away, leaving him outside on the landing. Just as he was about to start to speak again the door opened a crack, finally sliding right back, allowing him to walk right in. For a moment he stood there, looking back at the face that he had once sworn to love over all others - and ultimately rejected because Anakin's training had demanded it. It had been so tempting to blame Qui-Gon for making him promise to train the boy, or the Sith for cutting his master down, or Anakin himself for being the burden he had initially viewed him to be…

He'd made the choice. He'd regretted it every day since. But the force had demanded it, so it had seemed. Now he wasn't as sure as he had been.

"The landing is very pretty," Jemmiah looked past him towards the turbo lift, "but I think you'll find the living area a more suitable place to talk. Come on in."

She stepped aside to let Obi-Wan through, the young knight walking into the hall and casting a quick glance around him. It hadn't changed much: it was still bright and cheerful - cozy was perhaps the best word to describe it. The warm rugs lay stretched invitingly out on the floor infront of the artificial hearth, the scent of what smelled very much hot chocolate with marshmallows hanging in the air, making Obi-Wan feel rather hungry. Jemmiah caught the look and a faint smile formed on her lips.

"Just made some." She replied. "I felt I could do with a treat. I've been keeping kind of weird hours of late. Snatching sleep when I can get it."

"I can imagine." Obi-Wan looked over in the direction of the cot, to where the squirming infant seemed to study his own fingers with a fanatical interest. "Has he been keeping you awake?"

"He's not too bad." Jemmy remarked in a cautious voice, not feeling entirely comfortable with discussing her son with anyone. "He sleeps quite well, I think. But he's a lot of work. Probably more than he's worth."

"I'm sure that's not true." Obi-Wan smiled at her, holding the flowers behind his back.

"You try having one of your own and see how you feel…" she stopped herself not quite in time. Obi-Wan looked at his feet, wondering if the visit had been such a good idea. Jemmiah was obviously not happy with him being too near, probably wondering how he would feel about the child that had now taken first place in her life. If only he could get her to see that he didn't mind at all…

"Sorry." Jemmy moved brusquely away, fabric of her dressing gown catching on the arm of the chair, revealing a pair of shapely legs that Obi-Wan had good cause to remember with considerable fondness. "Want some cocoa?"

"Yes, thanks." He grunted in agreement, wondering when he should give her his flowers.

"You sure?" Jemmiah asked him slyly, the faintest suspicion of rebuke in her voice. "You're eating again, are you? Not still trying to live on a diet of water and the force?"

Obi-Wan turned his eyes to the ceiling this time. He should have known…

"And it should be me asking you if you're getting any sleep. Or are you still meditating yourself into a coma?"

"Jemmiah, I don't think that…" Obi-Wan lowered his voice.

"I wasn't criticizing." Jemmiah turned to look at him. "After all, every cripple has his own way of walking. Rela was worried about you. She used to tell me about how you were. I was worried to hear it too. It didn't sound like the Ben that I knew."

"We've all changed." Obi-Wan replied, relaxing now he knew there was no real reprimand intended, only good-natured concern. "And yes, I am eating and taking normal sleep."

"Glad to hear it." Jemmiah muttered, returning with a mug full of chocolate and placing it carefully in Obi-Wan's hands.

"Thanks." Mumbled the knight.

"For the cocoa or the concern?"

"Both." He admitted. "If you were worried about me I was also worried about you…and how you were doing since Jonas died. You sent two messages, that was all. I was really frightened for you."

"As you can see, I have had other things to occupy me." Jemmy pointed at the cot.

Obi-Wan's face cracked into an amused grin.

"Yes. Rela was very reluctant to say anything about that after I questioned her." He cocked his head on one side and looked into the crib. "What was his name…Han, wasn't it?"

"Yeah." Jemmy's face took on the initial distrusting look it had when she'd first opened the door to him. "That's right. I don't like him much. I think he's horrible." She declared with a toss of her head, long hair cascading down her back.

"Liar." Obi-Wan smiled, shaking his head. "Can I see him again?"

She stiffened visibly as if he'd stunned her with a Nerf prod.

"Why?" her eyes narrowed.

"Well, because I only saw him briefly before and I thought it might be nice to get better acquainted now." He frowned at her, wondering what was so wrong. "Is that not okay with you?"

"S'pose so." Jemmy's voice was guarded. "Just don't breathe on him."

"I'll try not." His voice was dry, but condescending at least. Obi-Wan walked over to the crib and knelt down, an even sillier smile on his face then before, Jemmiah noted. What was the fascination for babies? She could never understand it! Okay, Han wasn't as bad as she'd thought but still…

The goofy smile was just unbearably sickening.

"He's a lovely young fellow, aren't you?" he cooed at the baby, who looked up at him with dark blue eyes clearly destined to turn brown, the same skeptical expression on his face as his mother. "You are, hmm?"

"Don't prod him!" Jemmy scolded. "You might wake him up!"

"He's already awake." Obi-Wan said through his game show host smile, still content on speaking to the baby. "He's a clever fellow, isn't he?"

"Takes after his mother." She said flatly.

Her eyes went to the collection of headless and wilting flowers clasped behind his back with a single hand.

"Ben?"

"What?"

"Why are you holding a bunch of weeds behind you?" she asked him scathingly.

"Huh…" he stammered hurriedly, feeling flustered like he used to when Qui-Gon caught him doing something he shouldn't have. "Er…they're for the baby."

"The baby?" Jemmy queried. "I'll just stick them in his bottle, shall I?"

"Yeah, you do that." Obi-Wan grinned at the child, not paying the slightest bit of attention. Jemmy sighed and snatched the poor collection of broken flowers away from his grasp, examining them mournfully.

"I used to be worth a dozen white orchids and now it has come to this." She replied woefully. "A mangy lily, a slug eaten rose and five passion flowers with their heads missing."

"Hmmm." Obi-Wan answered distractedly.

He offered the baby his finger, which the child clasped with his own tiny hands, the toothless smile forming in return.

"See! He took my finger!" Obi-Wan radiated pride and happiness, leaning closer to the cot. "He likes me!"

It was the kiss of death, saying something like that and Jemmy knew it. As soon as the words were out his mouth the baby started to scream, getting more and more worked up as Obi-Wan tried to shush it with a nervous look over his shoulder in Jemmiah's direction.

"He must be hungry." He laughed hesitantly.

"He's just been fed. I'd put him down for the evening." Jemmy folded her arms. "Look what you've done!"

"I don't know what set him off." Obi-Wan ran his hand over his beard, trying to wrack his brains for some clue.

She snorted in annoyance, picked up an object from the table by the light fitting and marched over to her wailing son.

"Here Han. Never mind the big, ugly jedi. He's enough to give anyone nightmares." She glared at Obi-Wan, whose mouth had fallen open in hurt aggrievance. "Look! Who's this? It's Snordle!" She placed the duck in the cot with the baby and listened as Han's crying eventually began to die away into tiny little moans and whimpers.

She sat up; watching her son staring mesmerized at the garish yellow object.

"He likes Snordle." She explained to Obi-Wan archly. "I found that out when I was giving him a bath. I kind of keep him nearby incase of emergency. It usually works." Jemmiah stared him up and down, a lopsided grimace on her face. "If you want to make yourself useful you can play with the duck."

"Do I have to?" he asked, pleading in such comical fashion with his eyes that she almost burst out laughing.

"I don't know what you have against my duck."

"He's evil." Obi-Wan remarked caustically. "I'd hoped you'd given him to the dog to eat."

"He's over at the temple right now." Jemmiah replied tying her hair back, noticing the way Obi-Wan was admiring her neck. "Making An-Paj's life a misery, no doubt."

"Dogs and infirmaries are not really a natural combination." Admitted the knight, turning back to the baby in the crib.

He picked up Snordle and began to make silly little quacking noises with him, bobbing the duck up and down as if he was on a rather violent wave.

Sure enough, just as Jemmiah went to pick up her own mug of cocoa the baby started to cry. She slapped her hands by her side and spun around, eyes promising death.

"It wasn't me!" Obi-Wan swore with his hand raised.

"What, so it was the duck?" snapped Jemmiah. "What did you do? He's NEVER like this!"

"All I did was play with the duck - AS INSTRUCTED." He emphasized the words. "I leaned into the cot and then he started to scream…"

Jemmy pondered the problem for a moment, wondering what it was about Obi-Wan that Han didn't like.

Then she hit on the answer.

"Lean over him again." She commanded, Obi-Wan blankly doing as she said and recoiling instantly when his ear drums nearly shattered as a result of the boy's screaming.

"It's that." Jemmy stabbed a finger at his face.

"What?"

"The beard." She remarked caustically. "It's going to have to come off."

"It took me a long time to get my beard like this!" Obi-Wan complained. "Why should I?"

"Because my son doesn't like it." Jemmiah refused to listen to his complaints. "I don't care for it either."

"You've never liked beards." Obi-Wan huffed at her. "You're just being irrationally beardist!"

"Ben…" she knelt down by the crib, trying to quiet her screaming child. "You don't need to hide behind that…thing. You've no need to hide at all! To hell with what other people think. You're not Qui-Gon and you won't ever be him, no matter how much you want to be."

She caught sight of the pain in his blue eyes, knowing her words had struck home as she had intended them to. How could she put this so that he would understand?

"Obi-Wan. You grew that beard because you wanted to feel like you were more mature than you were, didn't you? You wanted to look the part…not like some poor ex-padawan with a kid who'd been placed in your care. I'm telling you that you don't need a beard to have authority. Anakin," she said the name with a touch of bitterness, he noticed, "will follow you because he wants to, not because he has someone who looks like they're old enough to know what they are doing."

"You could always read me, couldn't you?" he smiled in melancholy fashion. "You and Qui-Gon, both."

"You're not ready for that beard, Mr. Kenobi." Jemmiah poked him in the side with her finger. "It hides your face. Do you really want that?"

"Maybe." He replied softly.

"Garbage." She answered succinctly. "And my son is never wrong. The beard comes off…" she eyed him levelly. "…if you want to come back and see us at all."

Obi-Wan's smile this time wasn't at all silly, but genuinely warm. He reached over and took her hand in his own.

"In that case, dear friend," he replied in his lightly accented voice, "you'd better lend me a razor."