A/N: Hello! Life has really kicked me in the ass lately and I've had little to no time to write so this update is coming to you very late-sorry! With that said, I had meant to write another scene this chapter, and then I completely veered from my pretty little outline and came up with this instead (no idea-it's cray). I actually quite like it. It's a fun interlude. I hope you will too?

Your reviews give me life!

-Unbeta'd and written whilst tipsy so I apologize for the errorzz-

Same disclaimers apply. Additional warnings include brief violence and mild sexual themes.

A BIG THANKS to: Vivss, Nyx-Arae, Linna R, supremecommandervader, frenchfan78, Olivia, Rebekah, Fluchos, Ambre, and the guests!

XxX

~oOo*oOo~

This was madness.

Vader walked through the wet jungle seething. It had instantly began to pour and his hair was plastered to his face. His fingers tightened around the hilt of the sleek Nubian blade Amidala had oh-so-graciously allowed him.

Of course it couldn't simply be a normal rain—a light shower he could easily ignore.

That would be too easy.

No.

It had to be chaotic, gigantic drops that furiously pelted him as he traversed through the cursed jungle. His hood was pulled tightly around his head, but that did nothing against the ruthless and sudden onslaught of stinging water. Only the adrenaline pumping through his veins kept him focused, kept him from succumbing to the cold.

Every nerve ending was heightened and aware. He was ready for an attack from any direction. He realized they were at a disadvantage from being on a planet little was known about. He came here expecting a fight, unlike the rebels who'd rather cling to their hopeful delusions, he was always prepared for the worse.

It was too bad he wasn't on the mission by himself.

It was hard to hear anything above the howling wind and the sound of rain as it hit the leaves then the ground, but Vader did not miss the incessant chattering coming from behind him. One glance behind him confirmed his suspicions. The commander's shoulders shook rapidly, regardless of the cloak she gripped forcefully around her slight frame. She was still shivering uncontrollably.

Vader pressed his lips together in annoyance. She would only hinder him. He would get far more accomplished sans the Nubian royal. In truth, he was mildly surprised she'd even managed to keep up this far. Somehow, he'd expected her to be averse to the brutal pace he'd set, whining and asking for constant breaks, but she hadn't complained once, and she was never more than a few steps behind him, despite how slippery the ground was becoming.

He shot another stealthy look behind him, unable to make much out in the darkness, but he didn't miss the way her chin jutted out defiantly—she was nothing if not persistent. He could have suggested she wait back at the ship, not like he cared for her comfort, but he somehow knew she wouldn't take his console on the matter. She was determined to involve herself in the mission, and it was abundantly clear how important it was to her. There would have been no dissuading her.

Weakness.

She was pathetic and so pityingly vulnerable.

It made his lips curl in aversion. Never would he yield to such a lost cause if it didn't ultimately benefit him. Her weakness was directly due to her propensity to benefit others, despite any negative effect it could have on her. That was simply not a trait he admired in people. He'd weeded it out in himself early on.

He automatically walked around and upturned tree root, and he instinctively turned to aid Amidala, knowing her fall would be imminent if he didn't intervene.

Okay, maybe he hadn't quite weeded it out.

But he consoled himself with the fact that he only helped her because it suited him to do so.

Still, he was angry.

He grasped her arm, and she only narrowly avoided slipping, but she still let out a gasp of pain as she tilted precariously.

"Watch where you're going," he spat. Nostrils flaring, he straightened her easily. "This clearly isn't going to work."

"S-sorry," she mumbled pitifully.

He ignored her apology—just another display of weakness. When he spoke again, it was more to himself. "We're obviously going to have to rest for a moment." His eyes quickly scanned the dark forest. There was nothing in the immediate area but towering trees interrupted by the occasional cluster of rocks.

The rocks.

Surely there would be a natural alcove in one of them that could serve as a suitable shelter?

"Come on," he bid, not waiting to see if she complied.

For the first time in three hours, he shifted directions from the course he'd set for them, making for an especially large area of rocks.

"We can't see the smoke anymore, and we're making little progress as it is, but I recall the direction. We'll simply have to rest for a moment and hope that the rain ends as quickly as it started."

He strode up to the arrangement of rocks and effortlessly pulled himself over the slick stone, wasting no time getting to higher ground and climbing up another. He sensed the commander scrambling after him but did not pause to help. He hoped she would slip—it would serve as a suitable punishment for dragging him here in the first place.

About halfway up they reached a rock that shrouded another. The space underneath was just large enough to sit under, and blessedly dry by the crease.

"This will do," he determined, surprise registering in his face when he found that the commander had managed to keep up with him.

Amidala dragged herself to the far side of the rock, quickly sitting and pulling her knees to her chest in a defensive gesture. He sat beside her, pressing his back against the stone and noting distastefully the way the wind still blew through the exposed area. Surreptitiously calling on the Force, he compelled the wind another direction, and breathed a sigh of relief at the immediate comfort the act afforded him.

Next to him, Amidala still shook like a leaf, her small hands visibly clenching legs as if she could get them to stop shivering by that act alone. She was so…

Burdensome.

Yes, that was the word.

Keeping up with her was a rather arduous task.

"What of the Kouhuns?" she ventured tremulously. "I thought you said some species were nocturnal. Aren't we just easy targets, here?"

"This is a good vantage point, and I'll be the first to admit I don't know everything about this planet—or did you forget it was uncivilized and uncolonized?"

"We don't know all the details, that's clear."

Vader blew out an angry breath through his nose. "We're lucky the air is even breathable."

Ever the optimist, of course Amidala had something hopeful to say. "At least we made it this far. Perhaps you're right and a small rest will do us some good."

Her propensity to find the good in everything made him nauseous.

Not all of us have the luxury of hope, he thought vexedly. "An interlude, but just a small one; we don't know if the smoke we saw belonged to a group that's traveling, as we are. Perhaps we have more ground to make up than we thought."

"Force, I hope not." Amidala nestled her head in her arms. "I'd hate to wander so far from the ship."

The tension was thick and stifling between them. The darkness made it worse, if that was possible. He could just feel the worry rolling off of her.

The ungrateful bint.

He'd obviously went to great lengths just so they were able to make it this far. She clearly needed a lesson in manners. One he would be happy to oblige once this farce of a mission was over—and he wasn't talking about her mission.

"You should take off your cloak," he suggested, moving to do the same.

"Why?"

He spread his own cloak out next to him. "It would be better if we sat closer—shared body heat." Better for you at least, he added snidely. "This way, our cloaks may have a chance of drying." They would dry—he would see to it.

Shock exploded across her features. "I beg your pardon? I wouldn't, that is...I'm not, well...it simply wouldn't be appropriate."

"Don't make a fool out of yourself," he chided. "It's basic survival methods. Surely a commander would know as much. We are both human, after all."

"So you say," she muttered under her breath, but reluctantly took off her cloak anyway and sidled next to him.

Vader rolled his eyes at the blatant doubt in her innuendo. "Such a child."

He awkwardly put his arm around her in an effort to get the most out of the warm body that pressed against him. Why was he being so gentle anyway, especially considering all she had already put him through? She should pay for her transgressions. In time, he consoled himself. More confidently, he let his hand drop from her shoulder to her hip, and pulled her roughly closer. She let out a squeak of surprise and he almost laughed at her apparent distress. She punished him by pressing her icy cold hands underneath his sleeve, against the warm skin of his forearm.

Her—punishing him!

"Get your hands off me," he snarled, but he did not wrench away as he wanted to.

"Says the man who has his fingers digging into my waist," she snarked. "You're just full of double standards."

It was an exercise in pure futility to resist pushing the helpless woman off of the rocky cliff. "I'm helping you," he gritted out. "You're just making me colder."

She sighed into his arm and then - lightly rested? - her head on his shoulder. Was she mad? She hummed her content. "But I'm warmer, and that's all that matters."

Was she being playful, now? Vader could not, for the life of him, figure out his forced counterpart. She was an enigma. She certainly had no concept of what was good for her. She was partnered up with the most lethal Sith in the galaxy, and what does she do? Nuzzles into my side as if I'm some friendly Wookie.

"I'm sorry," she inexplicably said out of nowhere. "I don't want to snap at you, I'm just worried...about what we'll find."

"A healthy concern." His rage lessened measurably.

"I know."

To his annoyance, she burrowed further into him. Her loosely bound hair was tickling his chin, and he couldn't stand the scent of it. Yes, he definitely did not find the smell that drifted in his nostrils pleasant in anyway. Some might call the scent of freesia mingled with citrus sweet, but it was more like sickly-sweet.

"And you're right," she added, the words somehow easing his mood even more. He fought to stay angry. Seven Sith Hells, the woman was offputting. "I get that this is a lot more dangerous than I had initially anticipated."

Vader said nothing. What could he say? She was finally seeing the error of her ways.

She suddenly swiveled her head up at him, concern etched on her dainty features. "You don't regret coming, do you?" she asked urgently. "I know this isn't exactly what I had promised…" she trailed off uncertainly.

The vulnerability evident in her face made something strange flare up in his chest. It was…

More nauseousness, of course, the woman made him sick.

"I knew what I was agreeing to when I accepted your invitation, commander," he replied listlessly. "You certainly don't need to lose any sleep over it."

"Sleep?" A laugh tumbled from her lips. "I'm not going to get any of that anytime soon."

Please go to sleep, he silently intoned. Better than her making small-talk.

"What would you be doing if you could be doing anything right now?"

Blast it all. Did she just have some inherent trigger that caused her to always do the opposite of what he wanted? How did one go about switching it off? There was one thing he could do…

"Pod-racing," he answered automatically.

"Pod-racing?" she echoed in disbelief. "I somehow was not expecting you to say that. But I guess that makes sense—you being from Tatooine and all."

He raised his hand, and abruptly she fell silent, falling even more heavily onto his shoulder in a deep, Force-compelled slumber.

That was much better. He didn't fancy talking about himself or his...prior life with the far too curious commander, especially when she should be resting. If the rain didn't yield and they had a few more hours of trekking through the jungle, she would need her energy.

Besides, now he could relax.

Only he couldn't relax.

He became acutely aware of the feel of her feminine curves beneath his hand. Her body was warm and pliant. The heat of her skin against his felt glorious. How had he not noticed before?

He abruptly felt a different type of discomfort that had nothing to do with the cold. The feel of her so intimately pressed against him was foreign—he was completely unfamiliar with the sensation of others touching him.

He swallowed audibly.

He grew tense with the effort to rein his body in. He wanted to burrow his nose into her hair, to let his hand wander up and down her side.

He should not be wanting those things.

It was weak.

When he took a woman, there were no silly desires to do worthless things like that. Sex was about power, and power alone. Damn her for...befuddling his mind! He knew she was asleep, he knew he was the one that put her to sleep, but he couldn't help blaming his uncomfortable state on her, however innocent and oblivious she seemed.

His eyes sparkled with a new onslaught of rage...and something else he didn't dare investigate.

He always stayed in control, especially where his body was concerned. Relenting control to others meant that they had power over him, and he would never do something so weak!

He rested his head against the stone, willing his tumultuous thoughts to relax. He was in for a long night and it seemed he would not be getting much rest after all.

~oOo*oOo~

When Padmé awoke, she felt wholly enveloped in warmth. She was holding onto something soft, draped over something else that was a lot more comfortable than her mat on Farstey. She didn't want to open her eyes, but she had felt compelled to wake up.

She stretched languidly, relishing in the warmth and the softness. She hadn't felt so rested in weeks.

"Can you not?" a deeply masculine, inexplicably agitated voice hissed from above her.

Her eyes flew open and her lips parted in shock. "Skywalker?" Please let her not be laying on top of him this whole time.

"Who else would it be?" he asked with a sneer.

It was definitely Skywalker.

Fueled into motion, her fingers flexed and squeezed over the - oh dear goddess! - his thigh? - as she made to get up from her horribly embarrassing position.

"Stop moving," he said around a growl.

Padmé froze, and swallowed discreetly as her eyes desperately attempted to adjust to the darkness, somehow lighter than before, but her sleep-addled eyes were too tired to see clearly—to think clearly! Because, it was impossible of course, but she had felt something hard brush against her bum. Dear gods, please let that be the hilt of his steel!

But she feared it was a different sort of steel entirely, and it sent her heart to racing.

Pretend you didn't notice anything! She screamed in her mind. Pretend like everything is normal.

The world was slowly coming into view, and she could barely make out the skyline she had went to sleep to—wait—when had she fallen asleep? She couldn't remember the exact moment, but she must have been very tired to rest her eyes during a brief interlude. How mortifying! Cheeks blushing crimson, acutely aware of the man behind her, she slowly eased herself up and safely over him, careful to put much needed distance between them.

She wasn't dimwitted. She'd been forced to bunk in close quarters with soldiers, with men, before. She knew what sometimes happened in the early mornings, what rose with the sun. She clapped a hand over her mouth lest she let a giggle escape. Such a lapse would not be prudent. Get it together, she ordered herself. Heat flooded her body and she frowned wondering if...no. It did not mean that. Skywalker held no feelings towards her save irritation. This was simply the natural state of things and nothing more.

Still, she couldn't bring herself to look at him. Hopefully the scant darkness hid her blush! "I fell asleep?" she asked far too breathlessly.

"Obviously."

Okay, that was definitely a growl.

Gulping, she chanced a glance at him with widened eyes. His gaze was so intense it looked like it could cut through stone, thank Force it wasn't directed at her! What did he hope to do, singe the landscape with his stare?

Hoping to ease his embarrassment - anger -whatever odd emotion he was grappling with, she reached for her surprisingly dry cloak and pulled it hastily around her, as if it were shield.

"Should we…?"

"Yes," he bit out, making to get up immediately.

She scrambled after him, her heart soaring when she had discovered the rain had stopped. Seems I woke up at the perfect time.

She felt invigorated.

They were down the rocks in seconds and despite being turned around, Skywalker seemed instinctively to know where to go. She followed with a skip in her step. She felt loads better than she had when they'd started out—and that was on a full belly!

"Did you get any sleep?" she asked delicately, wanting to at least break the tension between them.

"Not much." He somehow managed to find a trail between the maze of trees. "You turn a lot in your sleep."

"Oh." She gulped again. This was beyond embarrassing. What exactly had she done in her state of unconsciousness? "Are you sure you remember what direction to go?" She was so turned around, she wasn't sure which way was which. Thank the Force for Skywalker.

He stopped and abruptly whirled to face her. She couldn't help but lurch back, she was so jumpy today! But then that electrifying blue gaze was on her, and it was angry, and she was helplessly trapped in them.

"Do you hear that?" He continued to stare at her intently.

Hear what? She could hear nothing above the sound of her hammering heart. Dear gods, was that what he was referring to? She felt her cheeks grow even hotter, if that was possible.

"The drums," he hedged.

Wait, what? Was there really the sound of drums in the distance? She would die of humiliation before the day was up, to say nothing of the Kouhuns. She calmed her tumultuous nerves and sure enough, the unmistakable sound of a drum echoed in the distance.

"Oh."

"Yes, oh."

He turned away from her and in a few strides was so far, she had to jog to catch up. Focus on the mission! Force, what was wrong with her? She'd never been so stupidly unaware of her surroundings in all her life. Skywalker must think she was a complete and utter liability!

As they strode on, the sound of the drums grew louder. Padmé quickly tried to get a hold on her frenetic thoughts. She gripped the handle of her blaster in an effort to focus. Now was not the time to be sloppy. This could get bad rather quickly.

Suppose they were outnumbered? Two to five, or more! Would she have time to shoot her way through with a blaster? Perhaps she should have handed the blaster over to him after all…

Uncertainty surged hot and alive inside her chest.

She was never uncertain!

What was wrong with her?

Clenching her jaw, she followed on, determined to show him she was not useless. The next time there was something to spot, it would be her that told him.

He suddenly lifted his hand in the air, in an almost regal gesture, not even looking to see if she obeyed his blatant order to come to a halt.

He only spotted things first because he was in the lead. The thought snidely flickered through her brain.

Turning to face her, he mouthed silently, a sentry.

Unspeakable horror washed over her as she read his lips. Her heart plummeted.

A sentry!

That meant there were more. Forget being outnumbered by four or five, what if there was a whole group of them? They were unprepared! Blinding hot regret washed through her as she wished she would have pushed Bail or even Mon a bit further—demanded they send their remaining fleet to reach Obi-Wan!

For whatever reason, Skywalker was not panicking.

The electric shock of terror she felt staggered and paused for a few seconds as she watched, curiously, Skywalker's calm and decisive actions.

How could he be so calm? Why was he not running back to the ship, with or without her, upon realizing just how difficult the mission had escalated to?

She barely had time to react when she saw, with disbelieving eyes, Skywalker drag an insect looking creature, probably a head shorter than her, with wings flapping irately as it's feet dragged on the floor. An instrument was poised at it's lips, but the creature did not get a chance to sound the alarm before he expertly sliced a clean line along its exposed neck, dark blue blood oozing from the gash.

He dropped the blade to his side, watching impassively as the Kouhun gurgled on the ground before him, it's life essence rapidly fleeing him.

Oh, dear.

That was...impressive.

Padmé did not get a chance to expound on the fact that Skywalker had killed so easily, and silently, to say nothing of the fact that he was still fighting and not fleeing! Perhaps he was a valuable asset after all?

The thought was cut short as she felt what had to be the mouth of a bazooka pressed against her open neck. A buzzing noise that could only be an alien voice echoed in her ear, but she had no idea what the insect wanted as she was in no position to scan the foreign language she heard, and her scanner would be useless on an undeveloped planet anyway.

Skywalker's eyes widened fractionally when he looked her way, and it would have been almost comical, if her imminent death was not inevitable.

Even so, a mirthless bubble of laughter escaped her throat just the same. She was going to die, she had no doubt, and all because she had stopped to watch the spectacle that was Skywalker fighting, with a blade that he'd complained was clumsy.

It looked anything but clumsy when he wielded it.

She was just about to kick the insect in the softest part of its thorax, her uncharacteristic stupor blessedly shattering, when something hard and heavy landed on her foot. She suppressed a yelp as she looked down to examine what had collided with her toes.

The bazooka!

But that meant…

She whirled quickly around to find her captor to be…

Choking?

Her mind went in overdrive as she tried in vain to come up with a reason for why the creature could be choking...to death, as she watched it fall with a thud to her feet.

She looked up at Skywalker questioningly.

"So it choked to death," he shrugged carelessly. "That works in our favor." He gestured her to come forward, to come right by his very side. Apparently she'd now assured him she was helpless. Kriff. She wasn't helpless! "Now if you're done watching the show, might I suggest you head in that direction," he pointed his finger directly behind her, "and wait for my return aboard the ship."

Padmé shook her head stubbornly, stepping through the trees carefully to where Skywalker stood above what appeared to be a cliff of some sort. "I can help," she assured him. "I was just surprised, but I promise I can help."

He looked at her with an expression that could only be described as doubtful.

"All right," he relented. "But we have to do things my way." He physically took her by the shoulders and steered her to face the small valley below.

A swamp.

In the middle, a pit.

Someone fighting in said pit.

Obi was shirtless, defensive save a mere stick, and fending off five wild beasts that appeared to resemble dogs.

He was so small from this vantage point, and clearly without a lightsaber. He looked weak, and near defeat. How to get to him in the middle of that swamp? What was more, how would they get to him with what looked to be a hundred boisterous onlookers, wings flapping in the stands, watching the horrifying display with unsupressed glee?

Padmé's eyes fell to a chair higher than the rest, directly below them, and a little forward. This Kouhun was wearing a crown of twigs atop his head, and egging on the beasts in the pit.

Her eyes then looked up, colliding with icy blue ones. Her body was tense and ready for action. Would he really fight with her, when it appeared so glaringly hopeless?

"You have it completely under control, huh?"

She flinched as her words were brutally thrown back at her. She really did feel like a naive little girl, now—the neigh-sayers had all been right.

Right or not—she would gladly die for the rebellion.

"I hate to see what it looks like when things are out of your control." Skywalker fixed her with a wry smirk.

Wait.

Was he joking with her?

Astonishment flooded her previously hardened features.

"My apologies," she offered him crisply, robotically. "It appears you were right and I was wrong. This is a suicide mission."

His fist tightly enclosed around the handle of his blade. "No," he stated calmly, and then he smiled widely, causing her heart to thud in her chest. "It's a privilege."

More words thrown at her.

She swallowed discreetly, unable to fully compute that he was indeed helping her. Whatever her preconceived notions had been regarding Skywalker—they were completely flipped and turned upside down now.

~oOo*oOo~