Saga - PT Will You Love Me When I'm Sixty Four?

Will You Love When I'm Sixty Four?

2020 Holiday Fan-Fic Gift Exchange

@devilinthedetails wanted one of the following requests written:

- A fic about Qui-Gon's time as Dooku's apprentice

-A fic about Padme's childhood on Naboo or Leia's on Alderaan (if Bail Organa could be included in a Leia fic that would warm my heart).

-A Tahl/Qui-Gon or Obi-Wan/Siri romance (Tahl and Siri are both characters from the Jedi Apprentice books in the old EU).

I am a sucker for Qui-Gon/Tahl so I am writing the second request. Enjoy!

-Will You Still Love Me When I'm Sixty Four?-
January 1967


Qui-Gon Jinn's sixty-fourth birthday came during one the coldest winter's on record to strike the UK. The two story house overlooking the main road down into to the prosperous West Sussex town of Hartfield on Avon stood guard against the howling wind and heavy snows. Inside the upstairs main bedroom, Qui-Gon Jinn and his wife of 35 years, Tahl Gregory were awoken by someone banging at the front door.

Peaking out from the cream colored sheets, Qui-Gon glared at the manual alarm. Who was out at 7:30 in the morning on such a foul day? "It's probably one of the neighbors wanting to know if the handout volunteer drills in case the Americans and Russians destroy each other have been postponed," Tahl mused thoughtfully as her husband threw his tan dressing gown and slippers making his down the corridor to the oak staircase, much to the delight of the family dog, Ben.

Ben jumped up on the solid timber door, whining and barking his tail, and finally settled down after he was pated. Standing outside was Yan Dooku, the local landed gentry and a fellow MI-6 officer like Qui-Gon. "Yan, you old codger! Come in, come in. We were just about to tuck in,' the man invited his social superior into the nice cozy front hall. The older man nodded in appreciation, and soon all three were sitting in the kitchen listening to BBC.

While they were drinking tea, Yan brought up the point for his visit. "I'd hate to spoil a nice morning, considering it's your birthday and all. But, I'm bringing up a bill that would take children from Communist British homes and have them raised in proper patriotic homes."

Qui-Gon frowned, "If you don't my saying so, Yan, that goes to far. Children should be with their parents. not flung off wily nilly like we did during the Blitz."

Yan nodded and sipped his Earl Grey, "You make many a valid point, my old friend. However, the fact remains leftist-sympathetic Brits are raising their children to show loyalty to Leningrad and Kosygin, not to Queen and country." At the mention of the forever benevolent Queen Elizabeth II, he lowered his head and crossed himself.

Tahl teased him, "Yan, I didn't you held High Church."

Yan turned read from embarrassment and smiled slightly, I only try to practice mere Christianity, regardless. I should probably get going anyway. Will I see you at Mass tomorrow?"

The couple nodded, and they showed him to the door before Dooku returned to his Alfa Romeo and drove into town. Tahl asked her husband, "Do you think he'll get the votes he needs for this to be brought to the Commons when the session starts next week?"

Qui-Gon shrugged, it could go really anyway.

It was around lunchtime, and Tahl began to warm up the meat pies she had bought at the green grocer's and had popped them into the oven when the music switched over from Herman's Hermits to the Beatles.
The song they front announced was a favorite, "When I'm Sixty Four".

When I get older losing my hair
Many years from now
Will you still be sending me a Valentine
Birthday greetings, bottle of wine

If I'd been out till quarter to three
Would you lock the door
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four

You'll be older too
And if you say the word
I could stay with you

I could be handy, mending a fuse
When your lights have gone
You can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday mornings go for a ride
Doing the garden, digging the weeds
Who could ask for more
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four

Qui Gon stepped into the kitchen and began dancing with his wife, laughing before giving her a kiss.

Every summer we can rent a cottage
In the Isle of Wight, if it's not too dear
We shall scrimp and save
Grandchildren on your knee
Vera Chuck & Dave

Send me a postcard, drop me a line
Stating point of view
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, wasting away
Give me your answer, fill in a form
Mine for evermore
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four

Most definitely yes.

 

I consider this my fic-gift too BECAUSE TOO FUN!

 

You can never go wrong with John, Paul, George and Ringo.




Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

Wow, @Nehru_Amidala. Simply wow!

I try to write something more coherent, very clever. But I feel like one of my less than 2 year old kindergarten kids, when gazing upwards to the crib mobile after I gave it a tick before changing a nappy.

Even though I am not British, I do love the Beatles and... the British Isles. Plus Earl Grey tea.

And a story about Qui-Gon and Trahl, growing old together. With a dog called Ben. Awww! With no pressing Jedi duties. No attachments being forbidden. What a nice alternative universe they found.

Oh and Doku, driving an Alfa Romeo,... grins... traitor! What would the "Top Gear" crew make of this?!?