Padmé awoke with a pounding headache, and she promptly squeezed her eyes shut again to block out the blinding sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the curtains. She raised a hand to rub her temples—and brushed against something lying beside her. Or rather, someone.
She froze, heartbeat speeding up a little. Someone had gone home with her the night before? Well, she was most definitely naked, she realized, which would indicate that someone had gone home with her. Or maybe she had gone home with someone? Was she even in her own apartment? Padmé opened her eyes again and let out a small sigh of relief upon seeing that she was indeed in her own bedroom.
She glanced to her right, but whoever had gone home with her was still asleep, facing away from her and burrowed under the blankets, so she couldn't tell who he was, though his hair was an oddly familiar shade of light brown…She closed her eyes a second time and tried to think back to the previous night. It was starting to return to her in bits and pieces. She'd gone to the bar with Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka to celebrate Obi-Wan's promotion. They'd gotten quite drunk, and eventually Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had gone home. Padmé couldn't distinctly recall Anakin's departure, but presumably he had left with the other two, seeing as the three of them all lived in the same apartment.
She'd stayed at the bar for a while afterwards, though if her friends had all left, Padmé wasn't sure why she would've wanted—oh, yes, she did remember why she'd wanted to stay longer. She remembered someone's hot, insistent mouth on hers, being pressed against the wall with someone's hand up her skirt, falling into a cab with someone, dragging someone into the bedroom upon arriving at her apartment.
Padmé remembered thinking in the back of her mind that it was funny how good sex felt with someone who had played on the playground with her in kindergarten, who had walked to and from school with her nearly every day, who had gotten in a fistfight with a boy who'd insulted her in seventh grade, who had scared her nearly half to death the first time he'd driven her somewhere after getting his license, who had gone to prom with her because they were best friends and couldn't fathom going with anyone but each other, who had cried with her at their high school graduation and promised they'd never lose touch, who had Skyped her every weekend in college and made frequent trips across the country just to see her in person, who had found a job in the same city as her so they wouldn't have to be separated again, who had—
Wait. What?
No. It couldn't be.
There was no way she'd slept with him.
Padmé was just misremembering.
Wasn't she?
A loud groan yanked her back to the present, and the person beside her started to stir. Dread mounting in her gut, Padmé slowly, slowly turned her head to the right once again—
And came face to face with Anakin Skywalker.
Shit.
"Hey, Padmé," he said, squinting at her and looking as though he had a hangover to rival hers. Then, after a few seconds, his face paled and eyes widened to such an extent it would have been comical if Padmé wasn't so panicked. "Padmé?"
She could do nothing more than gape at him, dumbfounded and horrified. She had slept with Anakin Skywalker. Anakin Skywalker, her best friend in the world since age five. What in the name of all things holy could have possessed her to do such a thing? Padmé wasn't even attracted to him; how could she be, when she could still remember clear as day the time in second grade he'd eaten an entire sheet of cookie dough and promptly vomited all over her brand-new shoes? Or the time only a week ago when he'd called her, sounding on the verge of tears, to say that there was a very large and murderous-looking spider (in reality, it was tiny and fairly innocuous) in the kitchen and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka weren't home and could she please come over really quick to squish it for him?
Padmé had seen Anakin at his literal worst countless times in their twenty-seven years of life. There was no way she could be attracted to him after all that. He was like her brother. Although she had to admit, the way he looked right then with the morning sunlight hitting his hair just so, the way he'd looked the night before when—
Oh, God. She really remembered last night now. All her maybe-nothing-actually-happened hopes were wholly crushed. She most definitely had slept with her best friend.
Padmé blinked rapidly and desperately attempted to calm herself (it didn't work). "I, uh—" She cleared her throat and tried again, though she had no idea what to say. "Well. Um…"
Anakin spent several more moments looking as if he'd seen a ghost, and then he rolled over onto his back, determinedly tearing his gaze away from her. "I'll just—I'll just go," he informed the ceiling.
He stood up, and as the sheet fell away from his body, Padmé hastily hid under the covers, face flaming when she didn't avert her eyes quite fast enough. She heard Anakin stumbling around the room putting his clothes back on for a minute or two, then the bedroom door opened and shut again, and it was soon followed by the sound of her apartment door closing.
It was a long while before Padmé climbed out of bed. Her problems seemed so far away when she was huddled in a cave of blankets (also, the mere thought of getting up and turning the lights on made her head throb with renewed vigor). But then she started thinking about the fact that she'd ridden her best friend about two inches away from the spot she was currently lying in, and that memory made her think about how she was surprisingly unsurprised that Anakin liked being submissive in bed, and that thought made her cheeks burn yet again as she frantically shook her head to try to forget the image, and then Padmé decided maybe lying around all day wouldn't be so great after all.
Feeling like she'd swallowed sandpaper and subsequently been run over by a truck, she shuffled into the kitchen and proceeded to guzzle a glass of water and an aspirin, then forced herself to eat a banana. Once her queasiness had abated somewhat, Padmé made some eggs and ate those, too. After that, she took a very lengthy shower to wash off any and all traces of what had happened the night before.
The phone rang as she was toweling her hair dry. "Hello?" Padmé said groggily.
"You sound as shitty as I feel," said Ahsoka's voice on the other end. "Obi-Wan's fine, of course, smug bastard. I swear to God, one of these days the three of us are going to manage to get him plastered."
Padmé gave a small chuckle despite how physically (and emotionally) terrible she was feeling. None of them had ever seen Obi-Wan truly drunk, though they weren't sure if it was that he'd never actually gotten drunk in front of them, or if he had but was simply good at hiding it. "Not fair. We were only there to celebrate his promotion. He should be experiencing the consequences along with the rest of us."
"Tell me about it. How long did you and Anakin stay after we left?"
"I don't know," Padmé said, which wasn't actually a lie. "It's all kind of a blur."
"Hey, you wouldn't happen to know who he went home with, would you?" Ahsoka asked, sounding highly interested. "He came back here, like, two hours ago wearing the same clothes from last night. But he's been shut up in his room ever since, so I haven't been able to ask him about it."
"I don't know," Padmé said, which very much was a lie. She bit her lip. Should she tell Ahsoka? Ahsoka usually gave pretty good advice. On the other hand, Padmé had already ruined her friendship with Anakin. The last thing she needed was to tell Ahsoka and Obi-Wan about it and make things weird between all four of them. No, this secret was best left buried. Preferably a thousand feet underground where there was no chance of it ever seeing the light of day again.
They spent a little while swapping stories from the night before (she tried her best to just listen to Ahsoka and not have to come up with anything herself) and by the time she hung up, Padmé was feeling slightly better, though her hangover was still prevalent enough to make anything beyond a nap seem entirely unappealing, so she decided to do just that. She returned to her bedroom, stripped off the sheets and remade the bed with a clean set, moved to toss the old ones in the laundry, decided that washing them wouldn't be nearly enough to make her forget about The Anakin Disaster, and dumped them in the trash instead.
Padmé spent the rest of Saturday in a zombie-like state, which at least kept her from thinking too much about Anakin, or about anything at all, really. But when she woke up Sunday morning, her hangover had fully vanished—and her thoughts of Anakin had fully returned. After breakfast, she tried reading a book, but she couldn't focus, so she decided to go for a run to clear her head.
Padmé didn't exercise nearly as much as she knew she should—she simply never had the time for it, not to mention she'd never really been fond of athletic activities—but it was a good way to distract herself from thinking about the fact that holy shit, she'd just slept with Anakin and now their twenty-year friendship was going to be destroyed forever and how had she been capable of having sex with someone she used to have doll tea parties with and he was never going to talk to her again and had they really been so drunk that neither of them thought sleeping together would be a bad idea and her memory was now clear enough for her to know that he had actually been very good in bed, why was he so good in bed?
Yeah, her run didn't end up distracting her at all.
When she returned, Padmé's state of mind was no different than it had been when she'd left, except she was now sweaty, tired, and in an even worse mood. She showered quickly, then took out her laptop and started going over the mayor's proposed budget plan. Normally she was all too glad to leave her job as city councilor behind when the weekend arrived, but that day Padmé needed something to do or else she might literally lose her mind. Although, judging by the fact that she'd slept with Anakin, she'd probably already lost it.
All things considered, Padmé was unusually eager for the work week to resume. At least this way she'd be too busy to dwell on The Anakin Disaster. Except her brain didn't seem to get the memo, and she dwelled on it anyway, though fortunately a little less than she had over the weekend. The next Saturday, Obi-Wan invited her over for pizza and a movie. Padmé considered the offer for a while. She definitely didn't want to see Anakin, but the more time she spent alone, the more time she spent thinking about The Anakin Disaster. Besides, he was likely as uneager to see her as she was to see him, so maybe he wouldn't even be there. Padmé accepted the invitation and uneasily made her way over to their apartment that evening.
She had mixed feelings (mostly relief) upon arriving and seeing that Anakin was nowhere to be found. "Where's Anakin?"
"He volunteered to pick up the pizza," said Obi-Wan. "Which took us by surprise, seeing as he never wants to do anything helpful."
"Yeah," Ahsoka agreed. "He was weirdly insistent, too." He was probably hoping to avoid Padmé for as long as physically possible. "Actually, he's been acting weird all week. We can't figure out what's going on with him."
"Huh," said Padmé, willing herself not to break out into a nervous sweat. "That's funny."
She tried to relax as the three of them flopped onto the couch and chatted while they waited for Anakin to return with the food, but she immediately went back on high alert when she heard a key scraping in the lock. A moment later Anakin was walking in, shutting the door behind him, and turning around to face them.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw Padmé. "Oh," he said awkwardly. "Padmé. Hi."
"Hi," she mumbled, glancing at him for only a second before looking away again.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Obi-Wan and Ahsoka give them puzzled looks, but luckily they were quickly distracted by the pizza, and no one commented on the tension as they all dug in. As the evening progressed, if Obi-Wan or Ahsoka noticed that Padmé and Anakin only ever spoke to them and not each other, they didn't say anything.
Within twenty minutes, Padmé was seriously regretting her decision to show up. Rather than distracting her from The Anakin Disaster, it was just making her think about it even more than she would have if she'd stayed home with only her thoughts for company. Not to mention that the way she and Anakin were steadfastly ignoring each other all but confirmed her fears that their friendship was permanently lost. Claiming exhaustion, Padmé left as soon as the movie was over.
The following week, she started wondering if she'd gotten bad karma for lying, because she suddenly was actually exhausted all the time. She took a nap right after work nearly every day, but even then Padmé was frequently overwhelmed with fatigue. Probably just stress from work. And also the stress of having slept with her best friend. Padmé slept late on Saturday, and she woke up to a text from Ahsoka asking if she wanted to come over.
Is Anakin there? she replied.
No, he has that back-to-school craft fair thing. As a kindergarten teacher, Anakin always got roped into helping out at school events; the PTO probably thought he was an easy target, seeing as he would never refuse to do something that would benefit his students. Why? Ahsoka added a second later.
Padmé could practically feel her suspicion through the phone. Just wondering. I'll be over soon.
"I need to talk to you," Ahsoka announced as soon as Padmé arrived, and Padmé strongly considered turning around and marching back out again.
"Where's Obi-Wan?" she stalled.
Ahsoka shrugged. "I don't know, probably the library or somewhere nerdy like that." She steered Padmé over towards the couch and practically pushed her onto it. "All right, talk."
Padmé decided to feign ignorance as long as possible. After all, maybe Ahsoka had something else in mind and Padmé's guilty conscience had just immediately jumped to The Anakin Disaster when that wasn't at all what the other girl wanted to talk to her about. "Talk? About what?"
"About why you and Anakin are being so weird around each other." Well, there was that hope dashed.
"What do you mean? We're not being weird," Padmé lied.
Ahsoka heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Padmé, you've barely said two words to each other the past couple weeks. I've hardly even seen you look at each other since…I don't know, the last time we went to the bar, maybe? Also, Anakin gets all shifty-looking whenever someone mentions you."
"He does?"
"Yeah, and apparently you get all shifty-looking whenever someone mentions him."
"I don't look shifty," protested Padmé, who most certainly did look shifty.
"Come on, I know you both so well. I can tell when something's bothering you," Ahsoka said impatiently. "And it's not just me, Obi-Wan's noticed, too."
"Good for him."
"Just tell me what's wrong. I'm your friend. That's what friends do."
"Nothing's wrong," Padmé insisted. "You're imagining it."
But Ahsoka was shaking her head. "I'm not. Now that I think about it, you two are acting exactly the way my friends did in college whenever they slept with each other and then felt weird about it. If I didn't know better—"
She abruptly broke off as a deep, incriminating flush spread across Padmé's cheeks. Ahsoka's eyes widened. "Oh my God. Did you sleep with Anakin?"
"No!" Padmé said immediately, sounding panicked even to her own ears. "Of course not! Don't be ridiculous. Anakin is—I would never—I don't even like him! At all! He—he's the worst! Why would I sleep with him? Maybe—maybe you're the one who slept with him, and you're just trying to throw me off!"
"Oh my God," repeated Ahsoka. "You fucking slept with him!"
"No, I didn't!" Padmé wailed, and she buried her face in her hands.
A moment later, she felt Ahsoka pat her on the back. "Padmé, it's okay. I'm just surprised, that's all. I didn't know you felt that way about him."
"I don't feel that way about him," she moaned. "It's—I don't know how it happened. It was at the bar two weeks ago, after you and Obi-Wan left. For some reason, we started—we started kissing and—and doing some, um, some other stuff, and then we went back to my place, and it just kind of happened. But I don't know why. How could we both have been that drunk?"
"It's not the end of the world," Ahsoka said soothingly. "You've been best friends for, what, twenty years? This isn't going to change that. I'm sure your relationship's made it through worse."
Padmé lifted her head to stare incredulously at her. "Worse than a drunken one-night stand?"
"Well, out of all the people in the world you could've had a drunken one-night stand with, isn't your best friend one of the better options?"
"Definitely not. I'd much rather it have been someone I didn't know at all and would never have to see again. Someone who I wouldn't care if they've been avoiding me for two weeks."
"Maybe you're the one avoiding him," Ahsoka countered. "Look, just talk to him about it. Nothing will get resolved if you both keep trying to pretend it never happened. You need to get everything out in the open so you can move past this and go back to normal."
Padmé knew she was right, but the idea of having such a conversation with Anakin was possibly the most daunting prospect she'd ever faced in her life. "What if he says he hates me and never wants to talk to me again?"
"If he does, tell me, and I'll punch him in the face for being such an idiot."
Stressed as she was, Padmé couldn't help but laugh at the sentiment. She'd always privately worried that Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan too, were more Anakin's friends than hers, and right now she was immeasurably grateful for the other girl's support. Not that she was anticipating Ahsoka having to take sides in a fight between her and Anakin, but still.
They sat in reflective silence for a few minutes before Ahsoka said slyly, "So, how was it?"
Padmé's eyes narrowed. "How was what?"
"You know. Was he any good?"
"Ahsoka!"
"I'm just curious," Ahsoka said, snickering. Then she made a face. "Although, on second thoughts, I'd kind of rather not think about it."
"Join the club," muttered Padmé. "If you must know…yes, he was quite good, actually. Possibly the best I've ever had, although that could've just been the alcohol making it seem that way. It reallygets rid of your inhibitions. Like, really. No filter whatsoever."
Ahsoka gagged. "God, stop."
Thankfully, the conversation soon moved on to lighter topics, and Padmé very nearly forgot about Anakin altogether—until he came walking in the front door. "Oh. I should go," she said hastily, standing up.
"Don't be ridiculous, you only just got here," Ahsoka said, pulling her back down and shooting her a look that clearly said you are going to sit down with him and talk this through right now, so help me God. "How was the craft fair, Skyguy?"
"Good," replied Anakin, looking anywhere but at Padmé. "What have you been up to?"
"Oh, not much. Padmé and I were just hanging out. Hey, I just remembered, I have to be somewhere," Ahsoka said vaguely, and she swiftly stood and raced out the door before either Anakin or Padmé could protest.
Padmé stared down at her hands and started picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. Curse Ahsoka to hell and back. Some friend she was, throwing Padmé to the wolves like this. The silence was thick and heavy around them; never before had Padmé so truly understood the phrase "you could cut the tension with a knife." She heard Anakin shift his weight a little every so often, as if he was debating whether or not he should simply walk out of the room.
At last, when she could take it no longer, Padmé blurted out, "We need to talk."
A brief silence. "Yeah," said Anakin. Padmé glanced up and saw him slowly approaching. He nervously perched on the other end of the couch, looking as though he was ready to jump back up and sprint away at any moment.
"So," she began, desperately casting about for the right words. "About…you know. The thing that happened."
"Right. The thing."
Padmé shifted awkwardly. "Look. You're my best friend, Ani," she said. "And it's—I don't want that to change. I hate that things are weird between us. I mean, I know it's only been two weeks that we haven't been talking, but I miss you."
Anakin gave her a tiny smile, which was encouraging. "I miss you, too."
"So can we just—just pretend it never happened?" Padmé asked hopefully. "We were both drunk, and it was a stupid mistake. I don't want a stupid mistake to come in the way of our friendship."
"A stupid mistake," Anakin echoed. "Yeah. You're right. It should never have happened."
Padmé bit her lip. "We're mutually agreeing to forget about it, then?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
"So…are we good now?" she said rather lamely.
"Yeah, we're good."
"Cool."
Except it didn't feel like they were good. On the contrary, Padmé felt just as awkward as she had at the beginning of the conversation, if not more awkward. Maybe it would just take time. She hoped that was all it was, anyway. "Well, I should go," she said. "I have some stuff to do." She didn't have any stuff to do, but she couldn't stand sitting there any longer.
"Okay," said Anakin. "See you later, then."
"See you." And Padmé departed.
Little did either of them know how drastically the aforementioned stupid mistake was about to change their lives.
Hello! This is something I've been working on for a while and it's actually mostly completed except for final editing and finishing up a few of the later chapters, so updates should hopefully be pretty quick, my schedule permitting. I think it'll end up being about 8-10 chapters total. Thanks for checking out chapter 1, and stay tuned for chapter 2!