THE LONGING

The one-shot fan fiction

By: "Pastry Basis" a.k.a K. J. Douglas

"Forbidden pleasures alone are loved immoderately; when lawful, they do not excite desire."

Based on the song, "Sometime around Midnight" by The Airborne Toxic Event

Senatorial Celebration Event-

Coruscant-

The young Anakin Skywalker had arrived at this celebratory party long before anyone took notice of his presence. The council had fought over whether to attend this event, for it celebrated the 'victory' at Geonosis a month earlier. It had not been a victory, just the start of a war. Only Anakin had decided to attend, knowing that the Senator from Naboo would arrive shortly. He remembered what had happened in the arena, before both him and Padmé were wheeled out into the blaring heat,

"Don't be afraid." Anakin had whispered to her reassuringly.

"I'm not afraid to die. I've been dying a little each day since you came back into my life." As soon as she said it, Anakin had sensed that she regretted saying it at all.

"What are you talking about?" Anakin demanded, confused.

"I... I think... We can't do this. I'm sorry."

"Padmé, please…"

"Anakin, it's not possible." Padmé had said, interrupting him.

Crestfallen, Anakin looked down. "I understand. You're right."

Angered, he choked down the last of his drink and slammed it onto the bar table. The young Jedi had started coming to this bar every night since they returned from Geonosis and he had sat at this very same table every night.

Why did she torture him so? Why had she worn all those revealing outfits while she flirted with him? Why had she let him kiss her?

Anakin raised his hand in the air, signaling he wanted another drink. The waitress soon came, filled his glass with some more Nubian liquor, and departed from his table as quickly as she had came.

The Senators started arriving sometime around midnight, and Anakin had already finished three more glasses. Now there was a band in the north corner of the room, and they started to play some song about forgetting yourself for a while.

Anakin watched, bathed in the overhead bar lights, Padmé Amidala walk into the already crowded room. He gazed upon her with a painful adoration, as he watched her take off her coat.

She was talking to somebody; he didn't know whom. That white dress she was wearing, hugged her form perfectly…and she looked so beautiful. Normally, Padmé was at least several inches shorter then he was, but she was wearing white heels that blended into her dress. Now, he thought, she truly looked like an angel.

He smiled to himself, a dark, empty, sad smile as he took another sip of his drink. The song in the background changed to a slow, melancholy sound, which was now the soundtrack to her smile. She laughed, and turned to another man beside her, drink in hand. She held her tonic like a cross. It was ominous, as if the drink itself was offering her comfort and guidance from an unseen pain.

So, his emotions remained uncared for, as he sadly turned his head down to look at his drink. All those memories he held, from their meeting on Tatooine to Geonosis, rushed back like a feral wave into his mind.

He imagined their bodies curled up against one another, like two perfect circles entwined. He coughed, lost in the haze of the liquor. He imagined her once more lying naked in his arms.

His very blood boiled at the sight of a fellow Senator flirting with her, and his stomach was in ropes.

Anakin felt lost once more.

He had to see her.

He had to. Even though she had already broken his heart in two.

Anakin walked up to her, with the room seemingly spinning around him. "Ah, Padawan Skywalker. How are you?"

He was close to her now, even with her heels, he was still inches taller then her. Anakin swallowed back angry tears. He smelt her sweet perfume now, she smelt of the flowers that were in the valley of Naboo, where they had held their picnic.

"What is it?" Padmé asked, worried. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Anakin didn't answer, too drunk to notice that everyone was staring at him. Annoyed, but concerned, Padmé Amidala departed from the party with someone Anakin did not recognize. She turned, to make sure he saw her, and finally bolted.

He felt dead.

Anakin decided that he had had enough, so her set his drink down on the floor and drunkenly walked out of the bar. He began to walk under the streetlights, clenching his fists, full of anger and lust. He was again, too drunk to notice the people staring at him.

He didn't care; his world was falling down around him.