Chapter Seven

"The Barber Shop"

It had been a while since Qui-Gon had taken a good, long look in a mirror. Until now, he had had no concern about his outward appearance. If someone didn't like the way he looked, then they could just look the other way, in his opinion. But today, he stood in the small refresher of his temple apartment, and took in what the years and mileage had done to him.

There were lines in his face he couldn't recall seeing before, particularly around his eyes and mouth, but what was most shocking was the unkempt appearance of his beard and hair. They looked downright ragged. He couldn't recall the last time he had made it down to see the temple barber. Perhaps, until he did, he shouldn't be so judgmental.

No better time than the present, he decided, hanging up his robe on a hook next to his door and proceeding out it and down the hall.

The barber was one of the few non-Jedi who worked in the temple. His name was Remi and he had been filling the position since Qui-Gon had been in his early twenties. He was a small, kind man with a somewhat gentle and tender disposition, middle-aged by now, and as far as Qui-Gon knew, single.

"Bless my stars, if it isn't Master Jinn!" Remi announced jubilantly upon his arrival, abandoning his present customer to kiss the air on either side of Qui-Gon's face. "Why, I haven't seen you since they outlawed gundarks in the arena! What brings you in today, my friend?"

Qui-Gon had never noticed the lisp before, and the tips of Remi's hair were so blond they were nearly white. And were those cosmetics around his eyes? Glitter on his eyelids and jewelry in his ear?

"It's time," Qui-Gon replied with a sharp nod of his head, meeting the barber's wide, green-eyed, gaze.

"Holy midichlorians!" Remi shouted out, flinging his hand back and snapping his fingers. "Telusa! Take care of Master Rancisis for me! I've got the makeover of a lifetime in my hands!"

Before Qui-Gon could change his mind, his head had been washed, scrubbed, his beard trimmed and then shaved completely off. It was only then, the exuberant worker spun him around in his chair and met his terrified gaze. "Are you sure about this?" he questioned.

No, he wasn't sure, but there was no turning back now.

"Proceed," he said simply, causing Remi to bare a grand display of gold and jewel-encrusted teeth.

"You will not regret this, Master Jinn, let me promise you! It's going to take at least twenty years off you. My, if I could tell you all the times I've said to Telusa, 'Telusa, girl, if only Master Jinn would let me trim that wild mane of his,' and here you are! I can't tell you how thrilled I am that you're finally allowing me to do this..."

The entire time Remi worked, he talked, while Qui-Gon closed his eyes and attempted a serenity meditation. He could occasionally feel a lock of shorn hair fall against his face and the scrape of comb across his scalp, but he was mostly aware of the snipping sound of the scissors in Remi's hand, which seemed continuously moving over his head.

"...and just the other day, you wouldn't believe who came strutting through my door like she owned the place. That stuck-up Master Yaddle with all her superiority, thinking she's all that and a bag of Gems. Mark my words, one of these days I'll say to her, 'If you don't adjust that attitude of yours, Miss Thing, especially when you come into my shop, I'll be telling everyone in this palace that what's on your head ain't nothin' but ratty old extensions from an Ewok's ass!' Mm, hm, that's what I says to her. Telosa, girl, look at this stud I've uncovered! Gorgeous! That Master Kenobi better watch out! There's a new man in the Jedi Temple!"

Qui-Gon felt the chair spin again and then the warmth of Remi's breath next to his ear. "See for yourself, Master Jinn."

He was afraid to look. Of all the ridiculous things to be afraid of, but he had no choice. One at a time, Qui-Gon pried his eyes opened and indeed beheld what Remi had mentioned earlier. He hadn't seen the skin of his chin in several decades, and his hair hadn't been this short since he was a padawan. But it wasn't a padawan cut, it was something different. It was cut short at the nape, but long enough on the top to run his fingers through.

He did appear remarkably much younger than he had when he walked in, which was important only for one purpose; to assist him in the next step of his strategy to romantically join Senator Amidala and his padawan. If he were going to succeed, he was going to need to look as dashing as possible.

"You've done well, Remi," he encouraged the man who was beaming in the mirror from behind.

"If you hadn't noticed, I washed away some of those nasty grays too." As Remi talked, he flicked the shortened ends of Qui-Gon's hair with his fingers, admiring his work.

"Thank you," Qui-Gon said before he was dusted of any stray hair and allowed to stand. One glance at the floor, however, told him why Remi's scissors had worked so diligently. It looked as if a Wookie had died there.

Now, all he had to do was visit Temple Supply and pick up a new uniform. His present one had definitely seen better days.

As he walked in that direction, he couldn't help but notice the open-mouth stares and shocked expressions on everyone's faces he passed, and had that young female padawan just winked at him? If so, then it encouraged him enough to proceed with his plan. By the time he was finished, Senator Amidala would never know what hit her.