Chapter Four: Convergence

Anakin was always amazed with the sheer size of the Temple. He shouldn't have been. Padmé's residences were nothing short of incredible when it came to size and complexity. After all, she had been the Queen of Naboo for much of her life. She'd gotten used to living the easy life, whether she enjoyed it or not. And that was the life Anakin had found himself in, once they were married. Then, of course, once the Council decided to let their more responsible Jedi have their own homes outside the Temple, Obi-Wan had insisted on buying a spacious pad in the lower reaches of the city. It was just one big room, with two open sleeping lofts on either side of it, and an echo which drove Anakin crazy. Of course, Anakin had moved in with his Master, since it was a free place to sleep that wasn't the Temple. Thankfully, Ahsoka had already left when all this happened, and Anakin didn't even try to imagine what would have happened if she'd stayed.

Padmé would have given her a bunk, he thought. Yeah, that would have gone over really well, as far as the Council was concerned.

Either way, Anakin rarely stayed the night at Obi-Wan's place, unless he and Padmé just happened to get into an argument. Sometimes, too, she would work late or be out of town, at which time Anakin had no choice. He figured spending an evening with his all-too-serious mentor was better than the blaring quiet of the Temple, and the ever-present chance of Master Windu popping in for a little "talk", otherwise known as a "lecture".

Regardless, Anakin lived in a big world, whether he was staying with Padmé or Obi-Wan. And still the Temple never ceased to amaze him. When he was younger, he'd once walked straight into Master Shaak-Ti, simply because he was trying to see how far back he could arch his neck to stare up at the ceiling of one of the halls.

The same hall he was now walking down. But this time, he wasn't studying the ceiling far ahead, or the massive windows casting the first rays of dawn onto the thinly carpeted floors, or the gigantic pillars which held the tresses up. This time, he was trying very hard not to run, and forcing himself to take deep breaths to calm his mind. The dream had terrified him. That, and Padmé's parting gift, which still sent tingles of anticipation down his spine. Nevertheless, when at last he'd reached Master Kenobi, standing calmly in one of the window bays, Anakin was as composed as he'd ever been, though his mind continued to whirl mercilessly.

"Anakin." Obi-Wan didn't turn away from the window, having already sensed his former Padawan's approach. "You should heed your training a little more carefully. I could sense your anxiety the moment you touched down."

"Master," acknowledged Anakin, bowing anyway. "Forgive me."

Obi-Wan turned then, and started back in the direction Anakin had come, motioning for his counterpart to join him. Anakin did so, choosing to wait for his Master to speak than to launch directly into his reasons for being there at all.

"You're up early this morning," observed Obi-Wan as they walked, watching Anakin from the corner of his eye. "That, or you haven't slept at all."

"I have slept, Master."

"Oh?" inquired Obi-Wan, raising an eyebrow as he willingly let slip the suspicion in his mind. "And where did you sleep, Anakin? You hadn't come back when I turned in last night." It wasn't a question.

"Master, you don't have to…" started Anakin, before Obi-Wan cut him off with a defensive lift of his hand.

"I don't," he said quickly. "I'm not concerned about what you do with your free time, Anakin, unlike some others I know." Anakin had to keep himself from laughing, knowing exactly who Obi-Wan was referring to. "But I do notice." That brought him back to earth.

"Of course, Master," Anakin said soberly.

"So where were you?"

Anakin should have known he wouldn't get away so easily. But he was quick to answer, in an attempt to dissuade any of his Master's suspicions. And he began with a sigh, to further solidify his excuse.

"I went down under, Master," was his simple reply. "To a bar in that… racy part of town. I, um, drank a little. Passed out cold." He paused, then admitted sheepishly. "They kicked me about an hour ago."

"Recovered quickly, have we?" observed Obi-Wan with another raised eyebrow.

"The head of the night-life in that particular bar took pity on me," answered Anakin with hardly a hesitation. "She sobered me up with copious amounts of hot tea as soon as I woke up. It helped to ease the, uh, concussion."

"Oh, for goodness sake, Anakin!" exclaimed Obi-Wan, slapping his head with his hand as he grimaced. "All these years of training, and you're still as bad a liar as you ever were. Looks like we need to get back to square one."

"Fine," surrendered the young Jedi Knight, raising his hands in submission. "You want the truth? I'll give you the truth." He paused, and Obi-Wan favored him with rapt attention. "I was out. And that's all you need to know."

"That's more like it," laughed Obi-Wan, shaking his head and ignoring the sinking feeling in his heart at the thought of another conversation passing without getting the hint of a confession out of his former apprentice. He knew Anakin was hiding something. The comment he'd made about the boy being a terrible liar had, in itself, been a lie. Anakin had never been open, and had always done a fabulous job of covering up his emotions. Obi-Wan was just sorry it had to be that way.

"Breakfast, Master?" asked Anakin then, pulling Obi-Wan from his thoughts.

"Why not?" was the Jedi Master's simple reply. "Away from the Temple, if possible."

"Of course." Anakin smirked and Obi-Wan just rolled his eyes, trying hard not to laugh at how well he and his former Padawan understood each other.

"I was surprised when I got your call," said Obi-Wan, the first words they'd spoken to each other since walking into Dex's Diner. They'd been too busy eating to care about anything else, and now that the food was devoured, Obi-Wan was slightly ashamed of himself. After all, it had always been Anakin's place to inhale the food placed before him, and the food of others, if possible. Obi-Wan had never thought he'd do the same at some point. And now, he was pushing his empty plate away and staring across the table at Anakin, as the young man leaned back with a contented sigh. Obi-Wan himself didn't think he could move until his breakfast had a chance to disintegrate, so he was taking this moment to address the issue that was obviously at hand.

"I hope I didn't wake you, Master," apologized Anakin, suddenly serious.

"Of course not," smiled Obi-Wan good-naturally. "I needed to get up anyway." He paused, surprised when Anakin didn't give him a good banter for that comment. "I just didn't expect you to beat me to it. Honestly, Anakin, did you get any sleep last night, wherever you were?"

"Of course I did, Master," he answered in a relaxed tone. "I just woke up early. As a result of… abnormal circumstances. Dreams, to be more specific."

"Nightmares, I'm assuming," was Obi-Wan's dry response.

"Ditto."

"And they weren't pleasant, I'm also going to assume."

"Not normally, no."

Obi-Wan leaned back and folded his arms in front of him.

"Were they disturbing? As in, leaving you with a feeling of dread sort of disturbing? Or just… abnormal?"

Anakin furled his brow as he thought, trying to figure out how best to describe his reaction to this particular dream.

"It was painful. The images and emotions were painful. But I didn't react to them as much as the feeling that I was in the middle of a conflict between opposing sides. My mind was the center-ground of some battle between good and evil. And when it was over, all I could think about was the fact that I needed to get away. That, if I stayed, I would be in danger. Someone would use me for their own plans. I guess I was unsettled more by that idea, than the contents of the dream."

There was a moment of silence between them. Obi-Wan didn't move a muscle, though his brow slowly furled in it's own way, and his beard drooped in the way it did when he was thinking really hard. Anakin stirred his coffee contemplatively.

"Master Yoda didn't sleep at all last night."

Anakin looked up at the unexpected sound of Obi-Wan's voice, proof that he'd been having deep thoughts again. He was only startled during a normal talk when he wasn't paying attention to the other end of the conversation.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean, Anakin," started Obi-Wan slowly. "Is that Master Yoda came to me as soon as I arrived at the Temple this morning. I've never seen him look as weary as he did then. He said he was afraid for you, and that's all he would say. I could sense that his mind was deeply troubled, and then when you called to say you needed to speak with me, I wondered if that had anything to do with it." He paused. "I get the feeling that the events of last night are coming full circle." He took a swig of his own coffee, then shook his head and looked up at Anakin. "We'll have to speak to Master Yoda about this."

"I agree," said Anakin, drowning his coffee in several mighty gulps. The waitress droid was at their table in an instant to refill the mugs. Obi-Wan couldn't help but smile at this form of service, one of the several things he liked about Dex's.

"Master," started Anakin slowly, as soon as the droid had left them again. "There's something I need to tell you." He paused, staring at an invisible spot on the surface of the table. "It goes along with what happened last night and… I'm not going to say it's an easy thing to talk about. Because it's not." He took a deep breath. "Ahsoka knew. She was the only one. I never told anyone else, and she found out by default. But… I want to tell you now because I need your help. And I know you'll keep an open mind about it, because that's one thing you've learned how to do in the past thirteen years I've been your apprentice." He grinned, but his eyes remained troubled. "I shouldn't have kept it from you at all, except I was afraid of how you'd take it. And…"

"Anakin."

Startled into silence, the young Jedi looked up into the hard eyes of his Master.

"What?"

"Quit beating around the bush and just tell me already."

"I'm trying to, Master."

"Not very hard, you're not."

"Fine, then. You want me to get to the point, I will. Just promise you'll wait to kill me until we get out of here. We wouldn't want Dex to have to clean up our mess, now would we?" He narrowed his eyes in a sly smile.

"Anakin…" growled Obi-Wan in the way he normally did when he was giving his former apprentice one last chance before he pounced.

"Alright." Suddenly, Anakin was very serious, and it startled Obi-Wan enough to soften up a little. This was definitely not the usual way of things. Anakin rarely turned serious, and now Obi-Wan had seen it happen several times already, and it wasn't even past breakfast time. He decided he'd wait, and give Anakin all the time he needed. The situation was clearly growing more complicated with every passing minute.

"Master," started Anakin again, folding his hands on the table and staring steadily at them as he tried to keep a fairly calm demeanor. "I, uh, have a confession. And it has to do with a personal life I know I'm not supposed to have." He dared to glance up, and Obi-Wan's unyielding calm was enough to give him the confidence to keep going. "Which includes Senator Amidala." He paused. "I suppose you might have already guessed that."

Obi-Wan nodded slowly, because he thought he should, though in truth, he was startled by the fact that Senator Amidala would even be mentioned in this conversation. He should have known better, he knew that. And he felt his heart sink as he guessed what Anakin might say next. Even so, he wasn't prepared for it when it did come.

"Padmé, in simple terms, ignored your warning after the Battle of Geonosis. Well, even if she'd done what you asked her, at least I would have ignored it. And, to be honest, I don't think she can control her natural reaction to me." He smirked, hoping his cockiness would soften up the mood. It really didn't, and he fell solemn once more. "We, uh, made it to Naboo. And we…" He sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes, then took a deep breath, deciding to throw away caution and get it over with. "Master, Padmé is my wife. We got married. I'm her husband."

Deflated, Anakin sagged back against his seat and rubbed his temples, a sudden headache threatening to overpower him. He took another deep breath, choosing to focus on the pain in his head instead of meet Obi-Wan's gaze. Obi-Wan, meanwhile, knew his mouth was open in speechless shock, but he couldn't care less. He stared at Anakin and couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard.

"Alright, let me clarify," said Anakin suddenly, sitting back up, the headache either gone or forgotten. "I went against the Order. I broke pretty much every law they ever laid down. And some they haven't even come up with yet." He shook his head. "I did something for myself for once, and I don't regret any of it. Yes, I made a mistake, and yes, I'm sorry if I hurt you, but Padmé completes me. And I her. And I'll never let her go. I can't live without her." He took another deep breath, suddenly noticing that his hands were shaking. Obi-Wan hadn't moved, and for a moment, Anakin was afraid he'd passed out sitting up. "Master, good gosh, close you're mouth already!"

"What?" gasped Obi-Wan, closing his mouth and passing a hand over his face. "Oh yes, the situation has… uh… things are…" He paused, taking a few deep breaths before meeting Anakin's stare. "What in the bloody hell have you done, Anakin?"

"What can I say?" The man in question opened his hands in submissive admission, grinning that sheepish grin he used so often. It was clear his Master hadn't lost his usual reaction to things, and that, at least, was reassuring. "She can't get enough of me."

"Bloody hell," cursed Obi-Wan again, under his breath, glancing away and then back again. "And vice versa, too, I suppose?"

"Of course, Master," smirked Anakin. "You can't have it one way and not the other."

"Yes, well, as things would have it, I didn't know that, but I should have guessed you'd be quite knowledgeable of such things." He took another breath, this one in an attempt to calm himself. "I guess you're too far gone to save now, so I don't see much use in trying."

Suddenly, Obi-Wan nodded, and Anakin was surprised to see a slight admission of defeat in that nod, as well as a raising of an eyebrow as a thought quickly occurred to the Jedi Master.

"I will admit, Anakin, if what you say is true, I suppose I should be thankful. You actually married the girl. That's a touch higher than can be said for many, especially within the Senate. They think an extramarital affair is as good as it gets. You took some initiative and actually made it official. Well, as official as you'd allow it to be. Congrats." He raised his coffee mug, leaning casually in his seat, though Anakin wasn't fooled by the posture. "So, my young apprentice, here's to whatever this is that your training brought about."

"I'll have a drink to that," grinned Anakin, raising his own mug, then downing the contents in a single gulp.

"Good Force, I never thought I'd see the day," growled Obi-Wan into his mug, trusting in luck that his former Padawan wouldn't hear.

"Of course you didn't, Master," grinned Anakin, giving his Master the look that normally said it all, and Obi-Wan wanted to send a few curses in the direction of the Council, for sticking him with this boy in the first place. "But you should have seen it coming."

"I should have." Obi-Wan paused, and his face relaxed wearily as he set his mug down on the table. "But I didn't." Then the mood became serious once more.

Anakin set his mug down slowly, staring at it thoughtfully. He was only pulled from his thoughts when the waitress droid came back. He glanced at Obi-Wan, who was absentmindedly scratching designs into the tabletop with his fingernail, then turned back to the droid, waving it away before it had refilled their mugs. Coffee was good, when Padmé brought it to him in bed on the first day back from a long mission. When he needed to think, he usually opted for something stronger, that wouldn't foggy his senses. At least, right at first.

"So," started Obi-Wan, just as Anakin pushed his mug away and leaned back again. "You're a married man. And now that we've gotten that out of the way, I'm curious what this has to do with your dream last night."

"Everything, I guess," said Anakin in turn, glancing away before he turned back and met his Master's eye. "It was about Padmé. About her death, at least that's what I came to think. And…" He stopped abruptly, his eyebrows narrowing as he realized the other detail he'd not told Obi-Wan. Then, suddenly, he was back in the position he'd been several minutes earlier. "Shit." He tapped his fingers contemplatively on the tabletop, then glanced up at Obi-Wan. "How much are you willing to take this morning, in regard to, uh, confessions, Master?"

"Why?" asked Obi-Wan, narrowing his eyes dangerously.

"No reason," said Anakin quickly, leaning forward again and brushing the subject aside. Obi-Wan eyed him a moment longer, but decided not to press the issue. He'd find out soon enough. "But, anyway, about this dream…" He paused, turning grim once again. "I can't understand it. I felt like I was watching everything transpire underwater. I could… feel… this current, or something, pulling me all over the place. One minute, things would lighten, then the next, I'd be yanked back and find myself in deep, dark despair. I was terrified more by a sense that something was wrong than the dream itself. And you know me, Master. That just doesn't happen."

"Hmmm…" said Obi-Wan, the concern evident on his face, then sighed as he mulled the situation over in his head. "That's the most disturbing part, I will agree. And all the more disturbing because of Master Yoda's condition this morning. He came to me, alone, which is strange, considering he normally calls the Council together if there is a shift in the Force. And he looked old, far older than I've ever seen him. He looked at me, and I saw a weariness in his eyes, and he said, 'Grave danger I fear, for your Padawan.' And that is all he said." He rubbed his beard slowly, the worry evident in his face, and he didn't even try to hide it.

"Danger," was Anakin's slow response, more to himself than to Obi-Wan. "I felt it also, Master. It was not Master Yoda telling me to get away. It was my own instincts, telling me to take Padmé and leave Coruscant. Which…" He paused, eyeing his Master cautiously. "…is why I wanted to see you. I figured you wouldn't like it if I just left, and you'd want a reason anyway."

"You've given me plenty of reason, Anakin," smiled Obi-Wan, but his smile was noticeably forced. "I see I cannot hold you back, and right now, I don't want to. If Master Yoda senses it, then I have no reason to doubt you. Regardless, I wouldn't have. You are like a brother to me, Anakin, and I trust you. If your instincts tell you to take Padmé away from here, than do it. Forget about the Jedi for a moment, Anakin, and take care of your wife. That should be your first priority."

"Your understanding cannot be thanked in words, Master," whispered Anakin, for though the words had been simply put, they had touched him. For a moment, silence reigned between them, until Obi-Wan stirred and glanced toward the bar, signaling for the waitress droid.

"We'll take two large bottles of Utapaun rum," he said in a deflated voice, and then there was silence again, until the droid returned with the two bottles, setting one in front of each man. Anakin stared at his bottle for a moment, then picked it up and drowned the contents in several gigantic swigs. Obi-Wan attempted to do the same, but choked around the lump in his throat, gasping it down instead.

"It grows on you, Master," said Anakin, his voice full of empathy, but there no hint of mirth in his words.

"So does the news of your forbidden personal life," groaned Obi-Wan grimly, trying to act amused, though he couldn't manage to bring a smile to his face. He signaled for the droid again, ordering another bottle for each of them. When these came, they, too, were drowned within seconds, and another couple were ordered.

It didn't take long for warmth to blossom in Anakin's stomach, and he found himself grinning involuntarily, suddenly thankful that he'd eaten a good breakfast and that his alcohol tolerance was higher than most. Across from him, Obi-Wan started bursting out in sudden spasms of chuckles, and when the second round of rum had been disposed with, both men thought themselves fairly well off, the pressures of their discussion beginning to fade.

"We'd better stop," suggested Anakin when the droid came to retrieve their bottles, and Obi-Wan was still alive enough to take his meaning. He waved the droid off and requested the check as soberly as he could.

"Let's just hope they don't call an emergency session of the Council anytime soon," snorted Obi-Wan when they finally stumbled out of their booth and toward the door. "Master Windu might not be amused by this."

"I just realized something!" gasped Anakin, laying a hand heavily on Obi-Wan's shoulder and trying hard not to burst into laughter. "We should have brought Master Yoda."

"We will," promised Obi-Wan as he searched for the switch to open the door of the diner, forgetting that it had an old-fashioned handle instead of a sensor. "Next time." A customer happened to walk up then and opened the door for them. "Tonight." They stumbled out into the cool air, both doubled over in laughter at the idea.

"Stop it, Master, stop it!" choked Anakin, trying hard to catch his breath as Obi-Wan was hit with another wave of merriment. The young Jedi Knight took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself, leaning on Obi-Wan as he did so.

"Why?" puffed Obi-Wan as they staggered off in the direction of the parking garage. "I haven't felt this good since that time we got drunk with those pirates!"

"Yeah, but we had nothing to do that time," gasped Anakin, snorting back another burst of laughter. "Let's face it. It's not even eight hundred hours and we've already gone off the deep end. And just so you know, I have every intention of getting back to Padmé as soon as we're done here. And if she sees me like this, well, let's just say…"

"The sex will be better, my boy," slurred Obi-Wan, pounding Anakin on the shoulder heartily. "Just trust me on that. I don't know how, but I'm sure it will be better."

"Well of course, Master," grinned Anakin. "But the wife won't be. She hates it when I drink."

"So don't drink."

"Damn!" exclaimed Anakin, slapping his face with his hand. "Why didn't I think of that before? I just won't drink." They walked together in silence for a moment, each feeling a little groggier than they had a moment before as the rum continued to strengthen on them. "Wait a second, Master. What… what exactly did we just do in there?" He staggered about, pointing vaguely in the direction of Dex's Diner.

"Oh yeah," groaned Obi-Wan, and he tripped, narrowly avoiding a face-plant before Anakin caught him. "I guess that defeats the purpose, right?"

"Master, you know, I think I just had a brilliant idea."

"Do share, my young poodoo-whopper."

"I'll ignore the insult, geezer-grosser."

"Shut up."

"You first."

"Not until you tell me this brilliant, or not so brilliant, idea."

There was silence as they stumbled into the parking garage, narrowing avoiding a collision with a group of female aliens headed in the direction of the diner. They stared at the two drunk Jedi in horror, but Anakin politely bowed, nearly loosing his footing, and they continued on their way laughing at the immature display. Neither Jedi realized that they might, just might, be giving a bad name to the entire Order. Not that either of them cared just then.

"As I was saying, Master," slurred Anakin as they tried in vain to find his speeder. They were finding the task quite difficult. "I'm under the impression we're inebriated. And, I don't know about you, but I can't see how in bloody hell I can fly anything when this whole place is spinning as much as it is. So…" He lifted a finger pointedly. "…I propose we contact my lovely wife, and ask her to come pick us up. Brilliant? Of course." He bowed toward Obi-Wan, confident that his genius could rival anything.

"I like the way you think, Anakin," was Obi-Wan's answer, then he caught sight of the speeder and ran toward it with arms lifted at his sides, like he was going to give it a big hug as soon as he got there. Anakin whirled on one foot, almost tipped over, and followed, still feeling quite proud of himself.

"You know…" gasped Obi-Wan, leaning on the speeder when Anakin came to a stop in front of him. "I think it's a ruddy waste to leave this beautiful piece of machinery just sitting here. I mean, what if someone steals it?"

"Bummer," sighed Anakin over-dramatically. "But I'd hate to scratch it up. And Padmé would be pretty mad if I don't get back alive."

"True," sighed Obi-Wan in turn, as Anakin fumbled around for his comlink and finally found it. He spent his leisurely time putting in the figures for Padmé's frequency, then leaned groggily on the speeder while he waited for her to answer.

Ani?

"Oh, hello there, bebee," slurred Anakin, his face lighting up like that voice was the most wonderful sound in the galaxy. The comlink wasn't anywhere near his mouth. Obi-Wan noticed this, even despite his current predicament, and lifted Anakin's hand up so the comlink was where it was supposed to be, even as Padmé's voice could be heard on the other end.

Ani? Where are you? Are you okay? What are you doing?

"Oh, I'm fine," laughed Anakin heartily. "Perfectly fine. Just had a nice breakfast with Obi-Wan and we're perfectly fine. Just fine."

Is Obi-Wan there? Her voice sounded surprised, like she'd just been caught.

"Yup! He's right here, and he's fine. Just fine." Anakin put his arm around Obi-Wan's shoulder as evidence to this claim, but ended up leaning on him instead as lights began flashing behind his eyes. His vision blinked and he started to regret the rum.

Well, what… Started Padmé, then her voice acquired a very hard edge, one that sent tingles up Anakin's spine, and made Obi-Wan tense. Anakin Skywalker, have you been drinking?

"Only a little," he whined.

Anakin Skywalker, it is not even nine hundred hours and you are stone drunk! What on earth have you been doing? You said you needed to talk to Obi-Wan about some things, and now this! What were you thinking? What could be so bad…? She stopped herself, and both men could hear her sigh heavily on the other end. Anakin could just imagine her tapping her foot impatiently. Alright, what do you need?

"Well, a ride would be helpful," he said slowly, almost hesitantly. "Unless, of course…"

She didn't even want to hear his next idea, and was quick to interject. No, I'll be right there. Where are you? Dex's? She knew him all too well.

"Yup," was the sullen reply.

Fine. Just… stay there. Don't go anywhere. I'll borrow Captain Typho's speeder. Don't… go anywhere! Do you hear me?

"Yes, ma'am," mumbled Anakin.

Good. She sighed again, impatiently. Damn it, man, what am I going to do with you?

Anakin grinned sheepishly as the comlink went dead and he fumblingly put it back into it's pouch on his belt.

"Well, she seems very nice," was all Obi-Wan could say, and Anakin glanced over to his former Master rubbing his eyes and trying to keep from falling to the permacrete beneath their feet.

It seemed like a millennium before Anakin looked up and saw a sleek speeder glide into the parking garage. It slowed as it neared them, then stopped, or at least, Anakin figured it stopped when he heard Padmé's voice telling them to get in. It held a hard edge to it, but mostly it just sounded annoyed.

Anakin fully regretted the rum by now, not only because he was feeling pretty awful as a result, but also because he knew how mad Padmé was. He shook Obi-Wan, who had given into the urge and fallen asleep leaning up against their speeder, then helped his stone-drunk Master as he stumbled to Padmé's ride. Anakin got Obi-Wan settled in the back seat, then pulled himself into the front, landing quite ungracefully beside Padmé. He moaned, and she glanced at him, reaching over to buckle his restraint as she figured he was too far gone to care. Glancing back, she saw that Obi-Wan was sprawled the length of the back seat, and she figured if he fell out, well, he fell out. Taking a deep sigh, she maneuvered her way out of the garage.

It was a silent trip. Padmé fumed in the driver's seat, though whenever she glanced over at Anakin, she felt a bit of her anger subside. He was clearly not feeling well, and she didn't quite envy him. He'd taken it upon himself, and now he was paying the consequences. She was only glad he'd called her.

Anakin said nothing the entire trip. He moaned instead. His stomach churned and he knew he was going to be sick. But whenever he opened his eyes, he saw Captain Typho's clean speeder and couldn't bring himself to mess that up. So he groaned and moaned, and tossed his head back and forth against the headrest in an attempt to alleviate his growing headache.

In the back seat, Obi-Wan was much worse off than Anakin. Anakin had always had a high tolerance level for alcohol, due to his large expanse of midichlorian's. But alcohol had always been a weak spot for Obi-Wan, or, at least, large doses of alcohol. So it was no wonder the trip was proving difficult for him. And at last, unable to restrain himself any further, he pulled himself up and puked over the side of the speeder. When he was finished, too weak to pull himself back in, he gazed down at the flowing traffic, wondering which unfortunate speeder had gotten a vomit-washing.

Padmé decided, for safety purposes, not to take these two inebriated Jedi back to the Temple. Master Windu was liable to kill them right then and there, and she couldn't very well show up, obviously pregnant, and drop them off. It would look too suspicious. And she, at least, of all of them, was thinking straight. So she brought them back to her apartment instead, thankful that she'd given her handmaidens and guards a day off.

"Why do I do these things?" groaned Anakin when the speeder came to a stop on Padmé's private landing platform. She laughed then, at the look on his ashen face, and all anger fell away when those woebegone blue eyes looked up at her. She stroked back his hair, then gingerly exited the vehicle and gave Obi-Wan a hand. As soon as the Jedi Master alighted, or rather, stumbled, onto the platform, he turned his head quizzically and surveyed Padmé's stomach.

"It would seem…" he started slowly. "… that my young Padawan has some more confessing to do." Then his face took on a sickly green color and he rushed to the edge of the landing platform and retched over it, again gazing mesmerized as his puke plummeted for quite some ways and splattered over some unfortunate soul's windshield.

"Why?" groaned Anakin from behind Padmé, and she was just in time to catch him as he, too, stumbled out of the speeder. He looked up at her again. "I feel terrible."

"Of course you do, sweetheart," smiled Padmé sweetly, though worry was evident in her eyes. She lifted him up as he put his arm around her shoulder and tried not to lean too heavily on her. "Come on, let's get you inside." Obi-Wan tripped as he started for the sitting room of Padmé's apartment, just off the landing deck, oblivious to his surroundings and intent only on reaching a surface that wasn't spinning.

Anakin groaned again as Padmé rushed to keep him upright. They staggered inside and slowly made their way up the stairs to their bedroom. Anakin collapsed heavily onto the bed as Padmé rushed to pull his boots off, eyeing him worriedly. He groaned some more, and knowing that he really was feeling awful, and hating to see him that way, Padmé rushed out of the room and to her small kitchenette, where she hurriedly made a pot of tea.

"I'll be right back, baby," whispered Padmé softly when she returned to their bedroom with the tea tray. Anakin acknowledged her with another moan, his mouth the only part of him that was even trying to move.

Agile for her condition, Padmé hurried down the stairs and into her private sitting room, stepping carefully so as not to make a sound. True to her assumptions, there was Master Kenobi, lying on his stomach on the couch, snoring loudly and completely gone. Padmé decided to leave him be, setting a hot-pad down on the coffee table beside the couch and placing a mug of tea on it to stay warm. He'd be wanting it when he woke up. Smiling a little at the sight of him, the practical man who had survived the ordeal of training Anakin, she turned away and carried the tray back upstairs to the bedroom.

To her surprise, though she shouldn't have been, Padmé was met by an identical sight. Anakin was sacked out, still in the position he had been, except he wasn't groaning anymore. He was snoring softly, or, at least, Padmé thought it was soft after what she'd heard coming from Obi-Wan, and looking fairly peaceful, for the time being. Padmé laid down another hot-pad and set his mug of tea on it, then brushed the hair out of his eyes and kissed him gently on his cheek. He didn't even register her, he was so far gone. And Padmé didn't try to wake him. She stood up and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her with one last glance back at her sleeping husband. After all, drunk Jedi or not, for Padmé Amidala, the day was just beginning.