The torrential rain falls from the sky, the fat drops leaving huge spots on the large window pane. Padmé Amidala sits and watches the storm, and presses her fingertips against the glass. The Coruscant skyline is impossible to see with these heavy black clouds hanging around. She was supposed to be at the senate for a meeting between a few senators and the Jedi Council, but the meeting had been cancelled because of the weather. So she sits, watching the rain, wishing that the clouds would just shrivel up and float away, wishing that the sheets of rain would stop falling. She was supposed to see Anakin today. Anakin and Obi-Wan. She sighs. After seeing Anakin for the first time in ten years, she had to admit that he had changed a lot. He was cute when they first met on Tatooine, but now, he's a different kind of cute. A kind of cute that makes Padmé's heart flutter a bit in her chest. But that's the extent of her feelings for the young man.

There's something about Anakin that she can't help but feel a little jealous of. It's not his ability to use the Force- Padmé accepted long ago that she could never have that power. It's something different. Something she doesn't quite understand yet. Every time she sees Anakin with Obi-Wan Kenobi, his master, a feeling stirs inside her chest. A feeling that tells her that Anakin has something that she doesn't. Or someone. Padmé twirls her curly hair around her finger. Perhaps she wishes she had someone to call a best friend, too. When she was queen of Naboo, her handmaiden, Cordé, was her best friend. Padmé told Cordé everything. The memory of Cordé's final moments still sends a crack through Padmé's heart. Padmé has never been able to call someone a "best" friend since. She probably never will. Anakin, though, has someone to talk to about anything. Someone who shares his powers, and can teach him more about them. Anakin is fortunate.

I wish Cordé could still be here. A tear rolls down Padmé's face at the thought of her friend. She felt horrible about Cordé's death. Cordé was being Padmé's decoy, just to protect her. She had died in somebody's foiled attempt at assassinating Padmé. Padmé closes her eyes. Sometimes, she can't help but feel that her friend's death was her fault. "Oh, Cordé," She whispers, her voice wavering, almost cracking. "I'm so, so sorry." A teardrop falls on her purple velvet dress, which she realizes she still has to change out of, since she couldn't go to the meeting. She wipes it away with her thumb, and takes a deep breath.

She hears the door to her apartment open, and footsteps come near the sitting room. Quickly, Padmé wipes her tears away and sniffles. "Hello?" she calls, trying her hardest to sound like she was never crying.

"Hello, my lady." Padmé turns around to see Obi-Wan Kenobi's smiling face. She tries to smile back.

"Obi-Wan!" She walks over to him and helps him out of his Jedi cloak. "What were you doing out in this storm?"

"I didn't get word that the meeting was cancelled until it was too late. When the storm started getting worse, I thought I had better wait it out somewhere safe." He grins. "And you were my closest option." Padmé smiles slowly, but looks down from Obi-Wan's eyes. Obi-Wan's grin fades. "What's the matter, Padmé?" He places a hand on her shoulder. "I sense something is very wrong."

"No, not really," Padmé replies, tears threatening again. "Just some painful memories. That's all." Obi-Wan rubs Padmé's shoulder sympathetically.

"Would you want to talk about it?"

"Um, yeah. Sure." She leads Obi-Wan to the couch, and they sit down. Obi-Wan rests his arm along the back of the couch, almost as if he's about to put his arm around Padmé's shoulder.

"So tell me, my dear. What's bothering you?"

Tears begin to run down Padmé's face as she tells the Jedi beside her about Cordé, and the assasination.

"I still feel like it's my fault," she says through tears. "I wish I never let that happen to her!" Padmé buries her face in her hands. Obi-Wan takes Padmé's hand and holds it gently in his. He lifts her chin with his finger, until their eyes meet.

"It wasn't your fault." He wipes a tear from Padmé's face. "That was not in your control. Nobody knew that was going to happen." Padmé nods slowly. "What Cordé showed then was loyalty. The most sincere kind of loyalty imaginable. Instead of feeling regret, you should be feeling honoured and fortunate that you had a friend like her. Oh Padmé, there is no need to cry." Obi-Wan wraps his arms around the little woman. Slowly, she puts her arms around him too.

"You're right," she replies. "But it still hurts to remember something like that." Obi-Wan nods, and leans his head against hers.

"I lost a best friend myself," he says. "Long ago. You were a young girl. Do you remember Qui-Gon Jinn?" He lifts his head and looks into Padmé's face.

"Yes, I do. He was with us on Tatooine, and on Naboo. Of course I remember."

"Yes. He was my master. Everything that I know about being a Jedi, I learned from him. He was like my own brother. We had a special bond that could never be broken. We were inseperable. I felt the same way you did when I lost him."

"Did you ever feel that you could never feel the same way about another friend again?" Obi-Wan takes a deep breath in, and rubs Padmé's arm.

"I did, for a short while. When the responsibility of training and raising Anakin was passed on to me, I began to realize after a while that I could feel such a bond that I felt before, once again. With Anakin. He is my best friend now." He leans in close to Padmé, and for a moment, Padmé thinks he looks like he's about to kiss her. "And Padmé," he whispers, his warm breath tickling her skin. "You are, as well." He places his head back on hers.

Moments pass by in silence. Padmé and Obi-Wan watch the rain fall apon the city, and listen to the thunder, until it very slowly fades as the black clouds lighten and roll further and further away. The rain isn't hitting the window so hard now, and eventually the storm looks as though it will pass. But Padmé doesn't want to leave Obi-Wan's arms. All she knows now is that when he's around, she no longer feels alone.