Summary: See previous

Disclaimer: Have it your way. I don't own them, and if you sue me…well, you'll probably spend more money doing it than you'll get from me.

Genre: Humor.

Have as much fun reading as I did writing!

Luv,

TRS

D

It was another lovely day on Coruscant, more specifically, at the Jedi Temple in the Gardens. Obi-Wan Kenobi and his friends Bant and Reeft and Garen had been playing a rather more violent than necessary version of hide and seek involving the found person being, upon discovery of their hiding place, tickled until they could get up and run away to base. Typically only the first person suffered, because once they were found, despite the rules, everyone else decided to quit hiding and join in on the fun of Tickle-Torturing the unfortunate one. This also made it difficult to get back up, as you usually had two people pinning you down and one tickling you madly, plus the fact that you were laughing so hard you could barely breathe, much less fight back, not to mention the fact that you didn't want to kick or punch—even though you often lost any sense you had started with—because this would hurt your friends, and all this combined with the fact that you are thirteen-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi and smaller and more slender than most humans boys are at your age, you were really in a very helpless position.

"Guys—stop!" Obi-Wan panted, his words punctuated by giggles and uncontrollable laughter, "Please, guys—c'mon, Bant, give me some help here!"

"Sorry, Obi-Wan,' Bant said, mischief sparkling in her eyes. She raised her hands, ready to tickle him into unconsciousness, when suddenly Obi-Wan's comlink beeped. Obi-Wan almost moaned with relief. They would have to leave him be now, it was most likely his Master calling him and of course he couldn't ignore a call from his Master.

His friends slid off him, muttering disappointedly.

"I bet you staged that,' Reeft said suspiciously. Obi-Wan waved him silent as he answered the call.

"Yes, Master?"

He listened for a moment, before, "Am I in trouble, Master?"

Garen and Reeft snickered. Obi-Wan glared at them before turning away to answer Qui-Gon. "Yes, Master. I'll be right there."

He shut off the transmission and turned to his friend. "Sorry, I have to go. Master Qui-Gon wants to talk with me."

"We'll get you next time," said Bant, good-naturedly elbowing him in the ribs. Obi-Wan smiled in reply before taking off down the path that lead to his and Qui-Gon's quarters.

Obi-Wan took the quickest way he could to his and Qui-Gon's quarters. He hated when others were late, hated to be late, and hated to be accused of being late. And of course he wanted to please his Master, and how else should he do this than by being there precisely on time, or, if possible, early? Master always liked him to on time, anyhow.

He arrived a few minutes before Qui-Gon, which pleased him, and sat waiting patiently for his Master on the couch in the common living room from which his and Qui-Gon's separate rooms branched off of. While waiting he found himself wondering idly what could be taking Master Qui-Gon so long. His Master was normally on time, there were two things that could be keeping him, and those were either trouble or procrastination. Of course it was completely ludicrous to think that there was any trouble—this was the Temple, filled with Jedi, after all—and Master Qui-Gon always said procrastination lead to indigestion, which Obi-Wan was sure Qui-Gon certainly wouldn't want. Obi-Wan couldn't ever figure out exactly how putting something off lead to a stomachache, but he figured Qui-Gon knew best and better anyway so he should probably just listen. (It had never occurred to him that his Master might be making a joke.)

Of course, maybe Obi-Wan was in trouble and Qui-Gon just didn't want to talk about. However, Obi-Wan hadn't done anything wrong lately, and Qui-Gon had said he wasn't in trouble. And Qui-Gon never really hesitated to yell at Obi-Wan when Obi-Wan needed yelling at.

So after several minutes of debating with himself, he decided he'd just have to ask later.

There—he felt his Master approaching in the Force. He got up, trying not to look as though he'd been waiting there for ages, and greeted Qui-Gon. "Hello, Master."

"Hello, Padawan," Qui-Gon said, rather more heavily than was necessary, Obi-Wan thought.

"Is something wrong, Master?" he ventured.

Qui-Gon didn't seem to hear him. "Um, fine, fine, Obi-Wan, um…sit down…I guess…"

Obi-Wan obeyed, eyeing Qui-Gon dubiously. I think I really must be in trouble this time. Uh-oh. But I didn't do anything.

Resisting the temptation to blurt out, 'I didn't do it!', he instead sat and waited for his Master to speak.

They sat in relatively unbroken silence, Obi-Wan wondering what the Force could be up and thinking maybe—just maybe—Qui-Gon had finally lost it. The silence was shattered by Obi-Wan giving a tiny cough.

Qui-Gon jumped, which made Obi-Wan jump, and Qui-Gon, not even seeming to notice this, said, "What?" very loudly, and Obi-Wan said timidly, "Er—Master?"

Qui-Gon jumped again, and stared at Obi-Wan as if only just realizing he was there.

"Uh...yes, Padawan?"

"Weren't you going to—um—talk to me or something?"

"Oh. Right. Yes. I—ah—I was."

More silence.

Then, "Well, Master?"

Qui-Gon gave a slight moan, which Obi-Wan found more suspicious than anything else, and he took several deep breaths, which Obi-Wan assumed were supposed to be calming, and which he suspected weren't helping, judging by the expression of inevitable doom on Qui-Gon's face.

Finally, he spoke. "Well, Obi-Wan, I believe you've just had your thirteenth birthday, haven't you?"

Um, yes…? Duh? "Yes, Master…"

"So there are some things you must learn since at that age you are no longer considered a child and are now considered more of a young adult," Qui-Gon rushed on. Obi-Wan was sure he was sweating, which he dared not to find amusing at this point.

"Yes, Master, and...?"

"Obi-Wan, do you know how you got onto this planet?"

Excuse me? How I got on--? What the—no. No, calmly. Like a Jedi. As in, I will not scream and yell because I think I know what's coming. Or rather, because I don't know what's coming and am not sure I want to know. "Well, I suppose...my mother...or maybe...I don't know, Master," he confessed.

"I was afraid of that," mumbled Qui-Gon. "Well, Obi-Wan, if you've ever watched the bees and the flowers in the gardens outside..."

"Yes?" Obi-Wan prompted curiously.

"Well…you see…the bees are like boys, and the flowers are like girls…I mean, do you know, do you sort of see what I'm saying?"

"You mean boys are stinging pests whom nobody likes and tries to kill on sight and girls are beautiful blossoms who people love and want to have more of them around?" Obi-Wan offered brightly.

Qui-Gon groaned and buried his head in his hands. "No, not exactly," he mumbled. "Well, you see…flowers have…pollen…and…bees…go to the flowers…to…pollinate them…so…they can…create…more flowers…baby flowers…" he trailed off weakly. "Now do you see what I'm saying?" He didn't really want to look at Obi-Wan, apparently, because he was looking anywhere but at him.

"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded eagerly. "You're saying that if I went over to Bant's we could make baby flowers together!"

Qui-Gon's head snapped up. "No!" he said quite suddenly, so suddenly that Obi-Wan was taken aback. "Uh…the bees have to go to, uh, certain kinds of flowers. They can't just, um, make baby flowers with any girl flowers."

"Ah." Obi-Wan nodded knowingly. "So, Siri, then?"

"NO!" Qui-Gon said, rather desperately. "Uh—actually, Padawan, just on a passing note, you may not make—baby flowers—with, uh—any of your friends. Um. On second thought, it is forbidden. Yes. Forbidden."

"Why?"

"It's very, very wrong to do that with someone you're not married to!" Qui-Gon fairly shrieked.

"But Jedi aren't supposed to get married."

"I KNOW THAT!" Qui-Gon was sure he was about to go into cardiac arrest from all this trauma.

Oooookay… "Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, slightly confused. He still didn't get this whole baby flowers thing. "But, I'm still confused," he said. "I'm not a bee, Siri isn't a flower. I mean…you know. Anyway, what does that have to do with anything?"

Qui-Gon groaned again and thought to himself, He's just not getting it. I hope I wasn't this hard to explain things to when I was his age. A solution occurred to him suddenly. I know—how about I just don't tell him until next year? It seemed very brilliant for about ten seconds, until he realized that Obi-Wan was bound to hear it from one of his friends before that, and—kids these days—he would probably hear some horrible perverted version that would warp his view of sex forever. Even though he wasn't entirely sure that wasn't the kind of view Obi-Wan was going to have by the end of this discussion, anyway.

He realized he was going to have to revert to more literal terms. As in, body parts. As in, Physical Contact of aforementioned Body Parts. As in, Explaining to Obi-Wan Why He Shouldn't Make Baby Flowers With Siri.

Crap.

No, strike that.

B.S.

So he explained, very, very carefully, about Things. And Life.

Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

And he wanted to scream by the end of it.

D

"EXCUSE ME?" Obi-Wan screamed. "In order to reproduce I have to WHAT?"

Qui-Gon cringed. "You heard me, Padawan," he said, more to avoid having to say it again than anything else.

"That's insane! Insane! Impossibly disgustingly insane!" Obi-Wan paced around the room rather frantically, his calm demeanor gone. "That's gross, Master! I will never, never, never—do that—ever!"

"Good thing, too, since you'd probably get thrown out of the Order for it too," Qui-Gon mumbled.

"I—I can't believe it!" Obi-Wan ranted. "Damn those blasted bees—"

"Obi-Wan, please don't use words like that," Qui-Gon said weakly, even though he himself had a few choice words he rather felt like spewing.

"—and flowers! I can't believe anyone actually does that! It's nasty! Horrible. I bet the Sith invented it, didn't they?"

"Well—" Qui-Gon said uncomfortably, suddenly alarmed as this query could lead to an unwanted-to-say-the-very-least discussion about how Sith were never married, but they did do it…

"Well, I'll never do it!" Obi-Wan said determinedly.

"Be nice if you could keep that view your whole life," Qui-Gon mumbled. More specifically, throughout your teenage years. Ooooh…

"Can I go?" Obi-Wan said. He was suddenly very alert, poised and antsy. Qui-Gon had a very good idea of where he wanted to go, but at the moment his head was not screwed on properly and he made the dire mistake of giving his permission.

"Go on, Padawan," he muttered to the floor, which didn't care to answer.

Obi-Wan didn't even bother to acknowledge this, simply took off out of the room at full speed.

D

Obi-Wan tore off down the hall containing the other Master/Padawan quarters.

"Bant," he hissed into his comlink. "Has your master told you—"

"Sorry, Obi-Wan, can't talk," Bant said. "My master wants me to—oh—sorry, coming!" she called to someone else. "I have to go!" she said, sounding harried, and cut the transmission.

Stupid.

Well, no matter, he had other friends.

In Obi-Wan's shock and immense hurry to find one of his friends he ran into someone smaller and shorter than him.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi! What do you think you're doing, storming down the halls like a herd of banthas?"

"Siri," said Obi-Wan breathlessly. "Did your master tell you—I mean—"

"Master Qui-Gon gave you The Talk, didn't he," said Siri matter-of-factly.

Obi-Wan stopped. "Uh—yes," he said, embarrassed. "Did your master—"

"No," said Siri, rather smugly. "I found out myself."

How can she be so calm about it? Girls!

"Where?" demanded Obi-Wan.

"In the Archives," Siri told him rather arrogently. "But I didn't get the part about the bees, and the flowers and stuff, but—why are you groaning, Obi-Wan?"

"Even the great Jedi Masters didn't have the courage," Obi-Wan moaned. "You're telling me they didn't even use literal terms?"

"Bees are literal enough." Siri shrugged. "I mean, when they go to the flowers, that's what really happens—"

Obi-Wan moaned louder. And then…

He gave her the Talk About Things Which Were Really Better Left Told By Adults.

Siri screamed.

The end.