Title: Scandal

Genre: AU

Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka Tano

Rating: M

Synopsis: He looked away, unable to face her. Of course, he shouldn't feel this way. She was a married woman, and a Senator, and he was a Jedi Knight. They could never work. Majorly AU.

Author's Note: A ROTS multi-chapter plot bunny I've been slowly working on. I'm intrigued to explore what would have happened if Anakin and Padme hadn't married at the end of AOTC, but rather, Padme married Bail Organa for public appearance and entered into an affair with Anakin during the Clone Wars. How would this have changed the ending? Intrigued? I hope so :) Please let me know what you think!

Republic Transport Depot, Coruscant

20 BBY

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck! Yes!" One would never have though such crude, vulgar language to come from the most esteemed and respected Galactic Senator, Padmé Amidala, but there, in the pilot's seat of the Twilight, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker bore witness to such atrocities. It was only here, in their fleeting moments together, when she would let go of her senatorial mask and inhibitions and give herself fully to the moment. And he loved it. There was nothing compared to Padmé in the throes of passion. She was wild, untamed, fucking beautiful and it thrilled him to know that only he would ever see this side of her.

He splayed his hands on either side of her clothed hips, watching with rapture as she bounced atop him, fucking herself on his cock. She was a goddess; her head tipped back so that her loose, chestnut curls fell to the bottom of her spine and brushed against his knees, her elegant, pale throat exposed for his teeth to sink into, her sore, red lips parted each time she fell down on him, leaking a string of profanities. Padmé Amidala was the most breathtaking creature in the entire galaxy and, at that very moment, she was all his.

A sense of fierce possessiveness overwhelmed him at the thought, and Anakin grasped the back of her head harshly and roughly pulled her down for a kiss. His lips assaulted her own without mercy, biting and sucking, tongue fighting with hers for dominance and she mewled into his mouth, her nails digging in to the thick, black leather of his tabard. It was several minutes before he released her, only to move down the slope of her throat, marking her with his lips and teeth and tongue. When he bit down on the flesh of her collarbone, she let out a gasp and pulled away just as his tongue flicked out to soothe the bite.

"Anakin," she hissed, narrowing her brown eyes at him. "Don't. It'll show."

He grinned slyly at her, skimming his hands along the curves of her hips up to the dip of her waist, and back again. "You like it." It was true. She did like it. His Padmé was extremely sensitive in that area and Anakin was always more than happy to oblige in her requests. But tonight, she was not having any of it. It amused him immensely.

Glaring at him, she ran her fingers gingerly over the wound, where a purplish-red mark would appear in a few hours and huffed. "Do you want us to get caught?"

With a shrug, he moved his mechanical hand up to cup her breast through her clothes, tweaking the nipple that was already hard for him. "I don't care."

Padmé pushed his hand away, furiously. "He already suspects, you know."

"Maybe I want him to suspect," Anakin responded coolly, his own eyes narrowing at the mention of him.

The blow across his face was not surprising, but the sting of it still left him reeling just a little. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Padmé practically quivering with anger, but it only served to make his cock twitch inside her. Force, she was so fucking gorgeous when she was angry. He was half tempted to pick her up, flip her over, and fuck her hard into the chair, but decided she would probably drive him through with his own lightsaber if he tried.

"You asshole," she spat at him. "Do you know what that would do to me? To my career?" Her voice trembled with fury.

Anakin merely rolled his eyes. They'd had this conversation too many times. It was nothing new. Still, it frustrated him that she constantly lectured him about why they kept it a secret. As if he didn't already know. As if the knowledge wasn't eating him alive every fucking day when he was at the Temple, because all he wanted was to be with her, be inside her like this, for the rest of his life.

"I'm sorry. I forgot that your career is the only one that matters, senator," he drawled, sardonically. It was rude, but he was not in the mood to fight with her, not when his cock was buried in her to the hilt, hard and throbbing and about ready to burst. He just wanted to keep fucking her. They could have this conversation later.

She sighed in frustration and ran a hand through her hair. "That's not what I meant, Anakin, and you know it. Getting caught would affect both of us. Do you want to be expelled?"

He met her gaze sternly, with as much force as he could muster, gripping her hips tightly. "I want you," he growled, low and husky and full of need. It worked like a charm. Instantly her pupils dilated and her eyes darkened to near black and she gripped the sides of his face roughly, crushing her mouth to his. This time, it was her tongue that sought dominance, her lips that mauled his own, but Anakin wasn't about to relinquish his control.

With a snarl, he picked her up and brought her back down on him so sharply that Padmé cried out, tears springing forth in her eyes and she was all but sobbing from the excruciating pleasure of it all. He kept it up, bucking his hips up to meet hers. Each brutal thrust caused his name to spill from her lips like a prayer, until she was chanting his name over and over to the rhythm of their hips; "Anakin, Anakin, oh, Anakin. Yes, yes – Oh! Right there. Don't stop – don't ever stop!"

Her hands somehow found their way into his tangled, blonde hair and she gripped it harshly, almost painfully, yanking his neck back to attack his jaw and throat with her mouth. Her pace quickened as she scraped her teeth along his clavicle, dusting his skin with little nips and marks, making him moan. When she clenched her walls around him, almost suffocating him in her delicious, wet heat, he groaned out her name. "Padmé, fuck." His words caused her to grin against his skin and she did it again, circling her hips a little, making him jerk his own hips in response.

It was a test, a challenge, to see who could make the other crumble first. And Anakin Skywalker, the Hero With No Fear, was never one to shy away from a challenge. With a sly grin, he snuck his hands underneath her skirts, tracing soft circles on the smooth skin of her inner thigh, before brushing across the downy curls that covered her sex. Padmé stopped her assault of his neck to look him in the eyes, the taunt clearly written across her face. Do it, I dare you, her eyes told him, and with a feral grin, he obliged.

As soon as his fingers came into contact with her swollen clit, she arched her back, breath hitched, undulating her hips into his touch, begging him for more. "Oh," she exhaled sharply, teeth sinking into the raw, bruised flesh of her bottom lip. "Not… fair…" With a cruel laugh of victory, he did it again, and again, feeling her arousal seep out from where they were joined, coating his fingers.

He withdrew his fingers and was hit with a pang of inspiration. Smiling darkly, he brought his fingers up to her mouth, tracing over her bottom lip, keeping his gaze on hers. She blinked at him, confused. "Suck them." It was not a request, but an order, and even though he could tell that she was a little uneasy about it, her lips parted regardless and she drew his fingers into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around them so erotically, and that, combined with the vision of her red, full lips puckered around him, made him twitch and throb inside her at the memory of her wonderful, sinful mouth. As one of the most well spoken senators in the Galactic Republic, Padmé had a skilful tongue and was extremely eloquent, but Anakin was the only person who knew just how well she could use her mouth. It usually didn't involve speaking.

Padmé kept her gaze on his as she sucked his fingers clean, eyes wide and determined, and when she was done, he withdrew them and cupped her jaw, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake, before he stretched his neck and kissed her once more. Tongue licking deep into her mouth, he could taste her, that intoxicating sweetness that drove him wild, and rewarded her with hard press of his metal thumb against her clit.

It threw her over the edge and she came violently around him, her walls pulsing and quivering as she rode out her orgasm. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she called his name in a silent sort of scream. Anakin held her limp body tight to his chest as he pounded up into her, feeling his own release getting closer with each squeeze of her spasming muscles.

"Padmé!" He groaned as his release hit him, spilling his seed deep inside her. "Force, Padmé. I love you. I fucking love you." Anakin buried his head in her neck, inhaling the rich scent of her hair, his arms constricting tighter around her body as he came down from his high. She whimpered and continued milking him, until he collapsed back into the pilot seat, spent and exhausted, Padmé falling awkwardly on top of him.

Anakin kept his eyes closed as the waves of pleasure rolled over him like the calming water of the lake on Naboo, where he and Padmé had spent so many days exploring each other in the privacy of Varykino so many years ago. Back then, there'd been no need to worry about getting caught, no need to scurry off for secret rendezvous' in obscure hiding places; it had just been them. Sometimes, Anakin wished he could go back to that simpler time in his life, when he had still been optimistic that he and Padmé could have a life together. Now… things were much more complicated.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the feeling of Padmé pressing sweet, trembling kisses to the base of his jaw and a small smile crept on his lips. He lazily ran his hand through her sweat-dampened curls, letting his fingers catch in the tangles, before he cupped her chin and bent to kiss her. This time it was sweet, soothing, gentle, so different from before, and it caused her to smile against his mouth.

When they pulled back, he swallowed at the gorgeous expression on her face; so relaxed and easy and beautiful, brown eyes in lazy half-moons. His trailed his metal fingers delicately along her cheek bone, relishing in the smoothness of her soft, ivory skin, the way it flushed under his tender affections. She was the most exquisite creature he'd ever beheld.

Padmé wrapped her arms around his neck, casually twirling the hair at his nape. "What are you thinking?" She asked him, her voice soft and light, like velvet.

Anakin sighed. He hated it when she asked him that. There were many things he was thinking about; how perfect they were for each other, how much he hated keeping their relationship a secret, how he wanted to throw everything away and just be with her, regardless of the consequences – but he didn't want to make her sad, not in her happy state, so he decided to tease instead.

"Oh, nothing," he smiled, stroking her hair affectionately. "Just how it'd be nice to fuck you in an actual bed for once."

She frowned and sat up, readjusting herself on his lap. The movement caused him to flinch a little as she squeezed his sensitive cock that was still inside her. "Don't call it that," she scolded him.

He fixed her with a scowl. "Would you rather me refer to it as 'making love'?" He drawled. "I thought that was something you only reserved for your husband."

She turned her head away from him. "Don't start this, Anakin. You know that Bail and I are only married in the formal sense of the word."

Her words made him scoff. "Right. So you don't sleep with him, then?"

Padmé hesitated and bit her lip, refusing to meet his gaze. "Ani… I – "

"Well? Do you?" He demanded, gripping her chin tightly to force her to look at him.

Tears welled in her eyes and her lip quivered. "I – yes, but it's not… He's my husband, Anakin. It's my... duty…" Her voice was caught by a sob that wracked her entire body.

He looked away, unable to face her, to let her see how much her words hurt him. Of course, he shouldn't feel this way. She was a married woman, and a Senator, and he was a Jedi Knight. They could never work. It was impossible. And yet, he was still in love with her. Had been ever since he was a Padawan. She was intelligent and courageous and selfless and beautiful and he'd been smitten as soon as he'd met her.

She gripped the sides of his face, imploring him to listen to her. "It doesn't mean anything, though, Ani. Please, believe me!"

Eventually, he met her steadfast gaze and when he spoke, his voice was so quiet that he could barely hear himself speak. "Do you love him?"

The question made her falter and the hesitation was enough to make Anakin physically ache. It had been a dangerous ploy from the beginning. He knew he shouldn't have gotten involved with Padmé. It went against everything he'd ever been taught by the Jedi Order, and even if he wasn't a Jedi, it was still complicated. Sleeping with a married woman was frowned upon by all, not just the Jedi. If anything, Anakin had brought this on himself. But it didn't make it hurt any less. He'd been unable to resist her.

She stroked his cheek softly, a small smile gracing her lips, her cheeks shining with tears. "No," she whispered. "I love you, Ani. Only you. Always."

He turned his head to kiss her palm, before taking her hand in his, running his calloused fingertips over the smooth, delicate bones of her knuckles. "Then leave him."

With a sad smile, she let her hand drop from his face, instead fiddling with the sleeve of his robe. He watched her with a frown. It always came to this between them. She'd say that she loved him and he'd ask her to leave her husband and then she'd just stop talking. "Why do you always have to ruin the moment, Ani," she would tell him. "Can't you just be here, with me? Isn't this enough?"

It was never enough. Anakin wanted more. He hated having to skulk around after her, only getting to spend fleeting moments of passion together before she would run off, back to her husband and her Senate and her duty. As grateful as he was to have even a small part of her, he was greedy. He wanted all of Padmé. He wanted to have her all to himself.

It would never happen though. Her answer was always, "I can't do that to him right now, Ani. He's very stressed about the war and tensions are high in the Senate. It's not the right time. When things settle down…" It had been the same answer for two years. She'd never leave Bail. Maybe she didn't love him, but she loved the security he brought her, the elevation he'd given her humble beginnings in the Senate once she had married such a well-respected, intelligent man. Even if she did leave Bail, Anakin knew that they would still have to hide their relationship. If the press found out that she'd been having an affair with a Jedi while being married to Bail Organa, she'd likely lose her seat as Naboo Senator. And Padmé was too career driven, too focussed on representing her people, on her duty, to take that risk.

"Anakin…" she sighed, leaning in to kiss him but he pulled away from her, scowl still etched on his face. She always did this, too, distracting him in the middle of an argument so she didn't have to deal with the consequences. But Anakin was in no mood to be distracted.

"Why not, Padmé?" he demanded none too gently. "We love each other. If you leave him, we can finally be together. Properly. Don't you want that? Aren't you tired of all this secrecy?"

She whimpered and shook her head, more tears spilling down her cheeks as she looked down at her lap. "Of course I want that, Ani. You know I do. It's just…"

Anakin knew what she was going to say and huffed, locking his jaw. "… not the right time," he finished bitterly, before lifting her off of him and standing up. He didn't want to argue with her, not now, not when this was the last time they could sneak off before he went back out into the field with Obi-Wan. Stretching his arms above his head, he rolled his neck, letting the joints hiss and crack, before heading off to the fresher.

"Anakin," Padmé called after him but he ignored her and closed the door, before stripping out of his robes. Her sweet, intoxicating perfume covered his skin and he needed to get rid of it before he returned to the Temple. He didn't want to raise suspicious, particularly from his Padawan, who was annoyingly observant when it came to him. She'd often asked him if there was anything going on between him and Padmé, catching the glances they spared each other when in the same room, or noticing when they'd suddenly disappear off somewhere to talk about the mission. Plus, Ahsoka wasn't stupid. She knew something was going on, especially when Anakin was constantly risking his life to save Padmé from a dangerous situation. He'd deny it every time, but still.

The soft padding of feet alerted him to her presence just as fully as her Force signature and yet he ignored her. He didn't want to face her, to see her pleading brown eyes, the eyes that had drawn him in all those years ago when he'd been nineteen and naïve and innocent to the seductive allure of the look of a woman. Now, he was more experienced, but still just as quick to succumb to her as he had been back then. It was easier if he just pretended she wasn't there, that she hadn't followed him.

As he reached into the shower to turn on the tap, he felt her small, soft hand press against the small of his back, just above the rise of his buttocks. The touch was timid and firm at the same time, and Anakin had no choice but to stop what he was doing. He didn't turn around, simply stood there in front of the shower, head hanging low so his curly blond hair fell in front of his eyes. Her arms came around his waist and soon she was pressing herself against his back, raining sweet kisses against his flesh, skimming her fingers along the ridges of his abdomen. Anakin let himself bask in her touch, revel in the feeling of her soft form against his, until he couldn't take it any longer. With a melancholy sigh, he stilled her hands and pulled them away from him, before slowly turning around.

"Padmé," he groaned, stepping closer to her and resting his forehead against hers. Her hands explored the expanse of his broad chest, trailing down his abdomen, following the line of blond hair that led to his soft cock, hanging limp between his thighs. Once more, he stilled her movements, not trusting himself if she put her hand around him. She had the power to make him do all manner of things with just one stroke of her skilful fingers.

"Ani…" She whispered, her voice soft and beckoning. "Don't do this. Not tonight. Especially not tonight," she pleaded at him and the sound of her voice was so sad that Anakin immediately looked up, into her intoxicating gaze and his entire resolve broke apart.

"What do you expect from me, Padmé?" He implored, desperately, eyes searching hers for any kind of resolution. "To disregard my feelings for you? To fuck you good and hard and then send you off to your husband like nothing happened? Because if that's all you want, then I can't do this anymore."

"No!" She cried, shaking her head adamantly, her hands coming up to rest on his chest. "Don't say things like that, Ani. Please. You… You know how much I love you."

Anakin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You can't have both of us, Padmé. That's not how it works. You have to choose."

A solitary tear trickled slowly down her cheek and Anakin watched it, somewhat gleefully. She was upset. Good. She couldn't play this game with him any longer. It had gone on for three years, but Anakin was determined. He was going to make her his, no matter how much it took. The Hero With No Fear never shied away from a challenge.

"You know why I can't do that, Anakin. Don't ask this of me."

"No!" He snarled, gripping her shoulders harshly and all but shaking her. She blinked back at him, horror and surprise swimming in her brown eyes, but she didn't shy away from his anger. "You don't get to do this to me anymore, Padmé. I won't let you. I deserve more than this... Better. Who's it going to be – me or him? Fucking choose." He'd never sworn at her before, and it made her flinch, but he was beyond caring. Anger controlled him, ruled him. He was tired of being second best, of hiding in the shadows and being treated as nothing more than a cheap whore. If she really loved him like she claimed, she'd relieve him of this agony – she'd leave her husband and commit herself to him.

With a distressed whimper, she slowly shook her head, more tears falling down her soft cheeks. "I – " she began, her voice breaking as her body was wracked with sobs. Her pathetic attempt to soften him worked – if there was one thing Anakin couldn't handle, it was seeing his beloved upset. The better part of him yearned to seize her in his arms and hold her tight, but he remained firm. "I can't – Anakin you… You don't understand!"

Still gripping her shoulders, he let out a roar of frustration and slammed her against the door of the fresher, not hard enough to hurt her, but enough to startle her. He punched the wall beside her with his mechanical hand, making her squeal and gasp, as he glared at her, blinded with fury. "If you say it's the fucking war again, I swear…"

"But it is," she wailed, clutching at his face desperately, trying to make him understand what he couldn't see. "This war… Ani, the tensions. Exposing such a scandal would only heighten –"

He barked a cruel laugh, glowering at her. "You're worried about the scandal? In case you've forgotten, Senator, I'm a Jedi Knight. Relationships are forbidden. I'm breaking every single code that governs the Order, every rule I've been brought up to believe, and you're worried about the scandal?! Fuck the scandal. Fuck the war. Fuck the Senate and the press. Force, fuck the Order. All that matters is our love, Padmé. The rest is trivial."

The smile she flashed him was so sad that he almost broke down in tears as she gently stroked his cheek, thumb brushing over his cheekbones with such clear affection that he couldn't doubt her feelings for him. How could he, when she was looking at him like that?

"Oh, Ani…" She muttered in a small voice. "If only it was that simple."

He moved his hands from her shoulders up to cup her face, skimming his nose along his. "It can be, my love," he promised her sweetly. "You don't have to be afraid of what people will say." He thumbed at her throat, feeling her quickening pulse under his skin and kissed the tip of her nose, then her wet cheeks, making his way towards her mouth. She pushed him away from her before he could kiss her properly, though, making him frown.

"It's not that I'm worried about, Anakin." She bit her lip and sniffled adorably, before meeting his gaze. "Do you know the reason I've got so much support in the Senate for a ceasefire against the Separatists?"

"Because you're a brilliant speaker and people respect you," he answered immediately without a second thought. Even though he had no care for politics, he knew his beloved was a wonderful politician. Her heart was in the right place and she had this way of turning people over to her cause with her words. It made him proud.

She laughed softly, smiling up at him. "You have too much faith in me, my love," she told him, a blush decorating her cheeks. "But no. That's not it. It's because of Bail."

Anakin tipped his head to the side, surprised by her answer. "Your husband?"

"Yes, Ani. My husband." Oh, how he hated hearing that word fall from her lips. It made him clench his fists instinctively. "Believe it or not, Bail is a good man and a very influential senator. Most of the support I've gained is because he is my husband. Because he supports my cause. If I – if we have a… falling out… all that support will disappear."

His expression hardened. "Wait… you're telling me that you're staying with your husband because of some Senate bill?! You've got to be kidding me!"

"It's important, Anakin. Do you know what a ceasefire will mean? The end of the war! The end of suffering for so many people, so many star systems. Peace, Anakin. I can't afford to lose the ground I've made if the price is peace in the galaxy. I won't do it." The fire in her eyes burned so bright that, if Anakin wasn't in so deep already, would have made him fall in love with her again. He loved when she was like this; so passionate and righteous and fierce. Despite all he was feeling, he couldn't help but beam down at her and, suddenly, he was kissing her, pouring his affection and admiration into her with everything he had, and she returned his vigour fervently.

When he pulled away, he ran a hand through her hair, nuzzling against her forehead. "You're too self-sacrificing for your own good, my love," he told her sadly. "I don't think you give yourself enough credit. You're influential, Padmé. I've seen it, when you give speeches. The Chancellor has even told me himself. You're the one who has brought people to your cause, not your husband. Besides," he forced himself to smile, "if your husband is as good a man as you say he is, then I doubt he will stop voting for a ceasefire just because you leave him."

Padmé laughed quietly. "Well no, he probably wouldn't. But many other Senators would. And I'd lose my respect. Who can trust the words of a Senator who's having an affair with a Jedi? Next thing you know, I'll be accused of being a Separatist!" She cried in outrage, throwing her hands up in the air. "Politics is fickle, Ani. I can't risk it."

Anakin blinked at her, struck by the finality of her tone. "So, that's it. You're sticking with this then, are you?"

"Yes." She said, firmly, nodding her head.

He furrowed his eyebrows. Why, oh why did he have to fall in love with someone so selfless and headstrong? "You're going to stay married to a man who you don't love."

A secretive smile graced her lips as she gazed at him, then said, "I've never loved him."

That was even more difficult for Anakin to comprehend. "What? Why in the Force did you marry him then?"

Padmé crossed her arms and fixed him with a stern glare. "Because he's a good man and we have the same ideals. Besides, I couldn't marry you, could I? As you so rudely pointed out, it's forbidden."

Anakin clenched his fist, raising it so it rested against the door, next to her head. "Does that mean, even if the war ends, you still won't marry me. Because I'm a Jedi?" When she didn't say anything, he growled aggressively. "I'd give it up for you, Padmé. I'd throw it all away to be with you."

She shook her head adamantly. "No, Anakin. I couldn't let you do that. Being a Jedi is who you are. Who am I to take that away from you?"

"So, that's it," he muttered, defeated. "It's always going to be a secret then, is it?"

"Anakin," she reached up to cup his face, but he jerked away.

"Even if you did leave him, it makes no difference. You still won't be with me…" He took a step backwards, hanging his head, feeling the familiar ache in his chest grow exponentially in size until he thought his heart must burst from the weight of it. He'd never have anything more with Padmé. It would always be just this, sneaking and hiding and trying not to get caught. He would never be able to call her his, in front of the entire galaxy. Would never be able to have a family with her, grow old with her.

Suddenly, his mouth went dry. What was the point in even continuing this charade? Nothing was going to come of it, except heartbreak. Padmé was as set in her views as he was in his – they were exactly the same in that regard. Her stubbornness had been one of the things Anakin loved about her, but now it only made him frustrated.

"I can't do this anymore," he whispered quietly, refusing to look at her. "I can't…"

Padmé stepped closer to him, head cocked in confusion, eyes wide and disbelieving. "Ani… What – what are you saying?"

Taking another step back, he looked up, meeting her eyes. "If you're never going to be with me… Then – then I can't do this anymore."

"Please," she reached out for his hand, but Anakin didn't make any acknowledgement of it. "Ani, don't talk like this. Please..." She exhaled shakily, tears leaking from her beautiful brown eyes again.

"I can't do it, Padmé. It hurts. It fucking hurts." He ran a hand through his hair again, biting his lip.

She pleaded at him with her doe eyes, her bottom lip quivering with emotion and it took all of Anakin's willpower not to react, not to go over to her and pull her into his arms. "But… I love you, Anakin."

It was his turn to whimper, a low, deep grumble of pure agony as his eyes scanned her lovely, sad features. "And I love you," he told her, earnestly. "More than my own life. More than anything." He slumped his shoulders and exhaled deeply. When he met her gaze again, his eyes were moist with his own tears. "But I can't do this. A stronger man might be able to, but not me, Padmé. I'm… weak. I love you too much."

She went to embrace him, her arms outstretched, but he evaded her, putting his hands up in surrender, silently asking her to keep her distance. For if she kissed him now, he'd give in, and he couldn't afford to fall victim to her tender manipulations any longer. Tomorrow, he would be off to war, in Dantooine, with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. The mission could keep him away for months. When he came back, he hoped he would have forgotten all about her.

"So this is it? It's over?" Padmé whispered tearfully, a waterfall of tears falling silently down her cheeks.

Anakin nodded. "I'm afraid so, milady."

She nodded, blinking her eyes rapidly, before drawing herself up to her full height – donning her senator mask. "Very well. I… I wish you all the best, Master Skywalker." She bowed her head respectfully.

"Do you need me to escort you back home, milady?" He asked.

Padmé shook her head, flashing him a weak smile. "No. I'm perfectly capable of getting back home myself." She stepped closer to him, touching his hair that framed his chin with such loving affection. "Would you permit me one last kiss? For goodbye?" Her voice was soft and velvety. Anakin nodded, and she stretched up on her toes, kissing him sweetly, moving her lips over his in such an achingly familiar way that he was unable to stop himself for cradling her face and deepening the kiss. When they broke apart after what felt like hours, Anakin felt his own cheeks were wet – whether from her tears or his, he didn't know.

She smiled prettily at him through her tears and traced his lips with her index finger. "Goodbye, Anakin," she told him, tenderly. "Be careful. Please."

With a final, chaste kiss, she turned and left the fresher and Anakin sniffled, wiped his eyes, stepped into the shower and slumped against the wall. As the water rained over him, he sat on the floor, letting it cleanse him of his heartache, his pain, his despair at losing the one thing in the galaxy he held dearer than anything else.

His Padmé.