Note: This fits into something of a backstory for Balking at a Winter Wonderland. ***** "Absolutely not." It was difficult to tell if Qui-Gon was more dismayed by what his Padawan had been asked to do or by the apparent glee Obi-Wan exhibited in keeping it a secret. After all, a Master should be able to trust his Padawan in all situations and a Padawan who was prone to follow every idle suggestion of the addle-brained was not one that could be considered sensible. "You cannot dispute the wisdom of a Jedi Master," Obi-Wan protested, "and this is with the blessing of the Jedi Council." "I don't care if it's with the blessing of the gods!" Qui-Gon snapped. "It is a dishonorable and vicious thing to impose on a thirteen-year-old boy." Obi-Wan fumed for a silent moment at the 'boy' jibe, but kept his voice steady. "This is because you don't trust me," he sulked. "Trust you?" Qui-Gon repeated. "Obi-Wan, I wouldn't trust Master Yoda with this assignment!" That seemed to mollify him slightly, since he knew the high esteem in which Qui-Gon held Master Yoda. A moment later, he was back to sulking. Typical teenager. Instead of trying to argue the point, he went in search of food. "We're not done here," Qui-Gon snapped. "I won't relent until you agree to call it off." "Not a chance," Obi-Wan said, heading with a mouthful of custard into his bedroom and slamming the door. He sighed heavily, knowing that he had most likely lost more than one battle here. Just why the Council thought a hormonal adolescent would be the perfect subject for this year's kissing booth, he would never know.