Title: Of Grunts and Padawans

By: Bill-the-Pony

Archive: Anywhere, just let me know!!

Summary: Just a little diddle into a day in the life of - yes, everyone's favorite padawan - Obi-Wan Kenobi. Following some of the disasters and strange little happenings, so that we can read about them and laugh at the poor apprentice's expense. But that's what Fan Fiction writers are here for! Just a side note, and I think Obi-Wan's around 15 in this.

Disclaimer: I own a horse, I own a cat, I own some paper and a pen, I own many things but as a very wise man once recorded of our Lord, "Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's…" …but unto Lucas what is Lucas's. So in other words for the dull minded, I don't own any of Georgy's brain children.

Now without further ado…

Chapter 1: Of Volcanic Padawans and Derivatives of 'Eh'

"Obi-Wan?"

Silence.

"Obi-Wan."

"Uunggg…"

A muted rumble issued from beneath the mount of bed covers. Qui-Gon reached forward and shook the brooding bump. "Obi-Wan! Wake up." A louder more menacing grumble. The mound shook threateningly.

The Jedi Master rolled his eyes, "Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, I have no need of a volcanic performance every morning. I know you're awake and I expect you to respond intelligibly when you're addressed."

Beneath the layers of warm blankets Obi-Wan planned his next move. He moaned pitifully, trying to sound as ill and persecuted as possible. He had tried to bide his time with silence but he knew that the use of his full title was never a good sign. He's on to me, he thought, it was time to commence plan B.

Qui-Gon sighed, Commence plan B. He took a step closer to the lair of the problematic padawan.

Meanwhile inside the dormant volcano, the apprentice was slowly inching his hands up to grasp the edges of his comforter. He reminded himself if he moved too fast or too jerky it would blow his cover, quite literally. He knew that if that happened, or if Qui-Gon was assured of his awareness then his next move would be brutal.

Qui-Gon was positioned and ready, but it was all a matter of surprise, if he let Obi-Wan have to much time, then he would be ready for his next move. In one swift strong motion he swept the blanket of the apprentice. It didn't budge. Apparently his timing had been a little off, and had given Obi-Wan too much time to prepare.

He frowned in frustration, it was time to bring out the big blasters. "Obi-Wan," His voice grew in velocity, "Let go of the blanket and get up right now or you'll be doing essays till there's nothing left to report."

He watched with hands akimbo as the bushy head of his padawan peaked out from under the covers, "Not fair," Ah, the first distinguishable words of the day, he thought with a mental chuckle.

"Up, now."

Obi-Wan was stubborn, but he knew when he had lost. That force behind that tone was not a force to be reckoned with.

"Don't make me start counting Padawan."

That was enough of a threat to submit into obedience even the most temperamental crèche baby.

"1…"

Before Qui-Gon could develop the 2 on his lips and send it from his brain to his vocal cords, Obi-Wan had gathered his tunic - wadded in a corner between a pile of books and various other articles of clothing - and was closing the 'fresher door behind him.

The Jedi Master could not stifle the smug, smirk of triumph at defeating his padawan at this little skirmish. Just another tally mark on his board and a few credits in his pocket, kindly supplied by a certain council member by the name of Mace Windu. He checked his chrono, knowing with clear certainty that he had made his goal for the day. 5 minutes and 48 seconds

He had broken a new record.

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(30 minutes later…)

Qui-Gon watched his padawan shuffle over to the small kitchen unit and tug open the 'fridge's door…and tug, and tug again.

"Obi-Wan, are you having trouble?"

"Mmm…"

"Is that a no?"

"Mhh…"

"Alright then."

Finally, Obi-Wan managed to pry the door open with his lightsaber hilt, but not without much cringing and grimacing on his master's part. After lugging a gallon of milk from the fridge (A/N: How could the galaxy exist without milk…they had to have milk right?) he routed around in the cupboard looking for some kind of suitable food. Qui-Gon couldn't help but notice that he looked much like a womp rat, shifting through a garbage disposal unit. The dignified master coughed into his hand to hide the snort of laughter at the uncanny picture.

"What time is your class today?" He asked from his overstuffed armchair, or 'Qui-Gon's Throne' as Obi-Wan had dubbed it the day the Jedi Master brought home his treasure.

"Ehh…" Obi-Wan threw himself in a hard chair at the dinning table.

"Oh." After 3 years of being answered by it every morning, Qui-Gon still wasn't sure of the meaning of 'Eh'

"Are you going to be teaching it with somebody?"

A shrug and a dip into his bowl of soggy, Happy Force Flakes.

Qui-Gon cocked an eyebrow and peered over the top of his book, "Are you ignoring me?"

"Ung…"

He filed that under, 'Derivatives of Eh'.

"Oh, I see." He closed his book and hoisted himself out of his chair, "Well I'm going to make use of my time by preparing my mission statement for the Council."

"Hm…"

With a sigh and a shake of his head he left the room.

..:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:..

Once Qui-Gon had departed, Obi-Wan gathered his half eaten cereal and dumped the remains into the disposal unit.

His eye caught the time on the antique, ticking clock hanging above the sink. 8:02. Perfect.

After once again secluding himself in the 'fresher, he dug the small, portable heater into a socket in the wall. It had become Obi-Wan's new best friend on these cold, (or as his master insisted, crisp) winter mornings.

Throwing a neatly folded pile of newly dried towels on the floor in front of the blasting heat, he wadded and twisted them until they formed an abstract resemblance of a nest.

Just a few minutes, he thought as he nestled into his makeshift nest, that's all I need.

With the heat caressing his back, he soon dozed off into a contented sleep.

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A/N: Now what will happen? What exactly is our little brat of a Padawan doing, not like it's not obvious. And what kind of disaster will he unwittingly accomplish? Wehoo! Fire in the next chapter along with a little braid burning. I need idea's so write em' down by clickin' that little button down there and tell me what you want! I should have the next chapter up sometime tomorrow or in a few days since it's almost done already. I feed of reviews like every other fan fic writer does, so show some courtesy! Your humble writer, Bill-the-Pony

Coming Up-- Chapter 2: Of Smoldering Towels and Mumbling Initiates