Work Text:
Exhausted from a difficult mission, Qui-Gon was just glad to get back to his room at the Temple. He let himself in, kicked off his boots, dumped his overtunic on the chair ... and realized that something was very very wrong.
His quarters were ... organized. Everything lined up straight and stacked neatly, the comfortable disarray replaced by sterile cleanliness.
With a sinking feeling, he opened his closet. The sight of ironed robes met his eyes.
Oh, no ...
He turned around to see Mace walk through the door. "My quarters are being painted," he said. "I didn't think you'd mind sharing yours."