"What do you mean, dance? I don't dance, Obi-Wan!" Anakin Skywalker's eyes fill with fury and disbelief.

"It's not that big of a deal, Anakin." Obi-Wan Kenobi replies calmly, a complete opposite to the blue fire of Anakin's stare. "Just a simple senatorial ball on Mandalore."

"I don't dance." Anakin repeats. "I can't dance." He adds.

"It's not that hard. You're an amazing swordsman, just think of it as a battle. You just need to–"

"I can't think of it as a battle!" His padawan interrupts. "It's not a battle! It's a dance!"

Obi-Wan sighs. "Anakin, we were asked to attend this ball. You're required to dance."

"Keyword 'asked'." The boy responds stubbornly. "Meaning we can decline."

"I'm afraid not, my young friend. I've already accepted."

"What?! Master! You know I don't dance."

Obi-Wan shrugs. "Maybe I thought you should learn."

"That's not fair!"

"Stop whining." Obi-Wan snaps. If that's possible, he thinks dryly. "Besides, it's not as if I'm having you dance with some stranger."

Anakin raises an eyebrow. "If it's not a stranger, then who am I dancing with? I don't know anybody from Madalore."

"Its a senatorial ball, remember. You'll be dancing with Senator Amidala. A good friend of yours if I remember correctly."

Anakin's eyes grow so wide Obi-Wan is afraid they might pop. "I have to dance with Padmé?" The boy sounds disgusted, yet his master doesn't understand why. The last time he checked, the boy was in love with the senator.

"Is there a problem, Anakin?" Obi-Wan asks. "Would you rather dance with someone else?"

"I'd rather dance with Windu." The boy mutters. He folds his arms nervously. Obi-Wan is shocked.

"Is there something wrong with Senator Amidala, Anakin?" He inquires softly. "I mean, last year you seemed to have quite an attachment."

"Attachments are forbidden." Anakin says softly. He sighs, shaking his head. "No Master, it's not Padmé at all." He shifts awkwardly from one hip to another. "It's just, well... I can't dance."

And I'm going to make a fool of myself in front of my wife. He adds bitterly. He had gotten out of dancing at the wedding, due to the whole "secret" part that kept the ceremony short and sweet.

"I've gotten that much already, Anakin." Obi-Wan sighs, finally catching on that his padawan simply didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of the pretty senator. "Fine. I'll teach you myself. You can't be that bad."

Well, after the first lesson Obi-Wan took back his comment. So, he thought with a chuckle, Anakin can be that bad. Oh well.

The lessons went slowly, and in time Anakin learned the movements and performed them almost flawlessly. Obi-Wan became increasingly proud of his strong padawan, more proud then he had ever been before.

How odd, he mused. I'm more proud of him for dancing than for destroying droid armies.

Now, as the pair enters the grand dance hall on Mandalore, Obi-Wan is certain that Anakin will pull this off. And he admits that he isn't too shabby himself.

Once Anakin has found his dance partner, Obi-Wan goes to greet his. Bowing low and formally, he greets her with a smile. "Dutchess Satine."

She returns his smile and offers her hand, which he places a delicate kiss on. "Ah, Obi-Wan Kenobi. My dance partner has arrived."

Anakin watches as Obi-Wan and Satine exchange greetings and smiles. There is something about those two...

He is startled by a snort of disgust coming from his close by. He turns to his wife who was in the middle of a discussion about politics with Bail Organa from Alderaan. He then looks to the left of the Alderaanian senator and sees Siri Tachi, who is watching Obi-Wan and Satine's greeting with narrowed eyes. He chuckles quietly.

The female Jedi sure seemed jealous.

Was she in love with his master?

"I tell him we can't have attachments..." He hears Siri mutter. He struggles to hear all of what she's saying. "Who does he think he is? Flirting with a duchess?"

Anakin turns to look at Obi-Wan and Satine once again. It certainly seemed that Obi-Wan was flirting...

"Aren't you dancing with Breha?" His wife's words tear him away from his musings and he turns back to regard the two senators' discussion.

Bail sighs. "Afraid not. Apparently we're supposed to dance in Jedi-Senator pairs." He turns and smiles politely to Siri. "Not that I'm complaining, of course. Knight Tachi is an amazing woman, but-"

"But you'd rather be with your wife." Anakin chimes in. Bail nods.

What would this be like if I was dancing with anyone other than Padmé?

His search for the answer abruptly stops as a voice rings through the hall. "Thank you everyone for coming. Grab your partners and let the dance begin."

Anakin smiles and offers a hand to Padmé who accepts it. "Let's dance, Jedi."

"More than happy to, m'lady."

And with that, the dance began.