"Meditate with me," was a commonly heard phrase in these quarters. Qui-Gon Jinn was known for his devotion to meditation. It was said that the Republic would come crashing down around his ears and he'd still be contemplating the best way to cope with it. As of late, especially, he'd found that the only way to adequately communicate with the impetuous fifteen-year-old that he was exasperatedly proud to call his Padawan. It was common knowledge that all teenagers, even Jedi-knight-in-training-attuned-to-the-Living-Force teenagers, went through a rebellious phase. Qui-Gon remembered his own adolescence as a bewildering conglomeration of futile attempts to be daring and more frequent adventures with what Master Dooku had termed his subscription to the 'pathetic-life-form-of-the-month club.' Obi-Wan had gone from a studiously enthusiastic student to a state in which he preferred falsehoods above conventional truth. In any normal teenager, this would have been distressing, but with a Jedi such as Obi-Wan, it was downright alarming. The boy was dealing in secrets. Messages were password-protected. He had broken curfew twice this week. He was even rumored to be associating with denizens of the underworld. Therefore, the invitation to meditate with him was not so much a request as a reluctant threat that expressed the fact that if Obi-Wan did not cooperate on this particular matter, Qui-Gon would have to take more drastic measures. To his great relief, Obi-Wan acquiesced with a look of frank puzzlement and followed his Master into the smaller bedroom that Qui-Gon had jokingly called the 'meditation chamber', since it had induced slumber in nine out of ten Padawans. Once they had settled on the ground between the bed and desk, Qui-Gon took in a long, deep breath to calm his senses, then let it out with a soft huff. "You're keeping something from me, Padawan." He was frustrated enough to punish Obi-Wan without bothering to ask for an explanation, but none was forthcoming. "I don't know what you mean," Obi-Wan replied unblushingly. "Yes, you do," Qui-Gon asserted coldly. "If you did not, you would have linked my mind to yours by now. Instead, you've spent the last five minutes ascertaining the best way to keep me out of your thoughts." Bereft of a good excuse to provide, Obi-Wan simply did what he was expected to do. To whit, he argued. "Perhaps," he said defensively, "I believe that my thoughts are my own, not subject to inspection." "YOur thoughs have nothing to fear from me," Qui-Gon said gently. Despite his attempts at putting the young man at ease, Obi-Wan was staring to squirm. Thiw was not going well. Not well at all. "I don't understand," Obi-Wan said carefully, obviously scrabbling for meaning to this ocnversation. "Master, you asked me to meditate, not interrogate." Regarding Obi-Wan for a long moment, he nodded at last. "I apologize," Qui-Gon said graciously. "It was not my intention to offend." Quiet relief washed over Obi-Wan's face. "May I do my meditation now?" A sense of guilt washed over him at having mistreated his Padawan so. "Yes, Obi-Wan," he said by way of attempting to make amends. "We should both do so." Without further comment, they embarked on that adventure, but Qui-Gon had to wonder why every mention of the word 'surprise party' inspired something on the level of panic.