Authors Notes: This story was inspired by one of my friends while we went to go see ?Revenge of the Sith.? She raised an excellent point asking how their cloaks stayed clean when they keep dropping them to the ground. So, I wrote this. A little piece of fluff half hidden in angsty-ish-ness... or not. Either way. ~~~ Stained or What Happens When Jedi Do Laundry by Seven ~~~ Obi-Wan Kenobi, proud Padawan to galactically revered Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, was in a supreme state of anguish. The Force itself seemed to agree with him and unleashed a rather potent storm on the city planet. He knew that, as a Jedi he should have long outgrown the rising sense of dread and blind panic that threatened to overcome his exhausted mind. If only he weren't so tired... then it might not look so bad. Maybe... Now if circumstances had been even slightly normal, the boy would have sought out his master. However, after the most ...unique diplomatic, here he stopped to cough at the not quite humor, missions they had been upon in a long time seemed to be more than either of the pair could handle. His master was out for the count, passed out just a few feet away, and he was tired beyond all reason. After all, endless arguments with politicians with the temperaments more suited to children of less than five standard cycles could wear on anyone. Really it could. Their temper tantrums made the attack by the rebel fraction a relief... almost. If they hadn't attacked on a rather pleasant day when things where almost as polite as a fight in the galactic senate. And that was considered progress! The man child sighed. The battle with the rebel fraction had started like all others. With hastily shed cloaks, left to fall to the moist earth of the gardens outside of the attacked pavilion, and the snap-hiss of igniting sabers. After which both Master and Padawan began the patterns of combat, honed into them so well that it resembled a well rehearsed dance more than anything. Neither of the two humans had suspected this though! This was horrid, and it was not, was not, Obi-Wan's fault. It wasn't. The boy was sinking ever closer to blind panic laced with deep embarrassment. He didn't even hear the large Jedi Master stir. ~~~ Qui-Gon rose, unsteadily onto his feet, and padded silently towards his apprentice. Jinn could not understand the rather unsteady emotions that came from the boy that may as well have been his own blood. ?Padawan?? He whispered cautiously into the room that was completely still save for the storm that raged and bellowed outside of the windows. ?Obi-Wan?? The child started, nearly shedding his skin in his haste to comprehend what was happening. Gem like eyes looked upon him in startled fright for a moment, as lightning flashed outside once more. Before the Jedi Master could take offense however, it was gone, replaced by deep embarrassment. ?Sorry Master...? Obi-Wan grinned sheepishly. ?I was otherwise engaged.? Qui-Gon smiled, and nodded his agreement. The action seemed to smooth over his Padawan's frayed nerves like balm, but the boy was still tense. Much to Qui-Gon's displeasure. Even more unsettling however was that the boy had seemingly ignored the Master's order to sleep. ?And what could keep you up despite a Master's orders young one?? Obi-Wan had the grace to look ashamed. ?I'm sorry Master,? He muttered. ?I couldn't sleep.? ?You've been even more tired than I have.? Qui-Gon pointed out. Obi-Wan didn't answer, and merely pointed to the laundry bin. ?Now what about that laundry basket is so interesting?? The boy blushed. ?It isn't my fault.? He answered just a touch to fast. ?Well... not entirely... I think...? Qui-Gon merely lifted an eyebrow at the odd response, waiting for a more detailed explanation. ?Obi-Wan... What is this about?? ?Background material?? Qui-Gon threw a slightly irritated, yet mostly indulging look at his Padawan. ?Obi-Wan, why don't we pretend that I have no idea what you're talking about.