Title: Snow And Negotiations
Author: Amy Fortuna (amyfortuna@yahoo.com)
Archive: Yes, please.
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Category: Pre-slash, Humor.
Series: None.
Disclaimer: For fun, not money. Relax, George.
Summary: Obi-Wan learns about both snow and diplomacy.
Notes: Obi's about fourteen in this one. I see snow about once every three years. I like it that way. :-) This is a non-JA fic.


****

The world was made of snow. Obi-Wan gazed at it in a kind of wonder, eyes alight at the transformation of what was a mere meadow a few hours ago.

Whiteness covered the landscape, yet it was not dull. Here and there shadows highlighted the darkness of a tree or small hillock, adding an accent of mystery to the scene.

Carefully, Obi-Wan stepped out into it, starting when snow crunched -- yes, actually crunched -- under his boots. He looked back at his master, who had one eyebrow quirked in a look Obi-Wan referred to as my-padawan-is-learning-and-force-isn't-it-funny.

"Go on, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon laughed. "It won't bite."

Obi-Wan picked up a handful of the snow, expecting it to be cold, but not for force's sake, *that* cold! He dropped it again, shoving his hands into his pockets in a defense reaction against the wet chilliness.

He heard Qui-Gon laugh behind him, with the sudden merry glee of a man planning mischief -- and ducked just in time.

Safe behind a tree, he considered his options. Handle that *stuff* -- and get back at his master, or stay here for the rest of the morning.

Obi-Wan reached out, pulled up a handful of snow, tucked it into a a solid ball, and threw with all the strength of a boy getting sweet revenge.

The snowball flew apart in midair, but more than half of it landed on Qui-Gon, who grinned madly, reached down, and....

The rest of the morning was spent all too quickly as Obi-Wan pelted snowballs at his master *and* tried to hide behind the tree at the same time. At last Qui-Gon called a truce and approached the tree.

"All right," he said. "I surrender. Can we negotiate?"

Those words in his most concilatory diplomat's tones reduced Obi-Wan to tears of laughter, and he stepped out from behind the tree.

"I'll have to tie you up to ensure that you don't try any treachery," he said, grinning. Qui-Gon put his hands out, Obi-Wan pulled out a small length of rope, and very gently, tied Qui-Gon's hands together.

"The terms are these," he said. "I want my lunch."

"The terms are acceptable," Qui-Gon answered. "Lead on, gracious sir."

Obi-Wan led them back to the house, and made to untie Qui-Gon's hands, but Qui-Gon backed away.

"As you see, sir, my hands are tied," he said. "Therefore, I cannot make lunch, can I?"

"If I," Obi-Wan began, but Qui-Gon continued. 'Therefore, young one, YOU must make lunch, must you not?" This last said in his I-am-the-Master tones.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said. "But don't you want...? He gestured at Qui-Gon's hands.

"That's all right," Qui-Gon said, and the Force stirred briefly around them as Obi-Wan watched with wide eyes. The rope slipped off Qui-Gon's hands, and Obi-Wan was amazed.

"That's incredible," he said.

"Not really," Qui-Gon laughed, and grabbed Obi-Wan in an unexpected hug. Obi-Wan hugged back, smiling.

"Shall we compromise?" Qui-Gon said. "How about if I help you make lunch?"

Obi-Wan pulled back. "I have never seen a negotiator to match you, sir," he smiled, and led the way into the kitchen.