After not enough sleep followed by the usual too-lengthy senate session, Senator Amidala and Organa found themselves victorious. Their bill had passed. Now planets requesting to align with the republic would be assured by law to have aid dispatched within 48 standard hours of declaration. Not only would this measure help the innocent inhabitants of those worlds, but it would help turn the tide in the outer rim to the favor of the republic as well.

It was common knowledge that outer rim planets risked much by joining the republic due to their neighbors conflicting interests and divided loyalties. It was also well known that the republic had a tendency of moving painfully slow to send out aid to their own allies in the farther reaches of the galaxy. The motion was aimed at easing the fear of joining planets, and effectively expanding republics reach. More planets joining their cause meant building more bases in the outer rim. It surely would take them one step closer to having the strategic advantage as well.

The halls were crowded with mingling representatives as they trickled out of the senate chamber. Padme managed to dodge most of them on her way out, much to her relief. She felt exhausted still, and did not feel like talking. She couldn't help but think, now that their bill had been passed perhaps she could excuse herself off world to visit her husband. Even if she was only there for a day it would be worth it. Even an hour would suffice. As she walked towards her speeder, Bail walked towards her in a quickened pace.

"Senator Amidala!" He waived towards her. Tired and slightly reluctant, she turned towards him. She wore her fatigue visibly with purpose.

What is it now? "What can I do for you, Senator?" She returned kindly.

"No, the question is what can I do for you! The answer would be to come by and let me pour you a drink in celebration!" He said, overly jovial. Bail always did have a flare for the dramatic. "I would have never been able to finish that bill in time were it not for your help." He added in a more serious tone.

Her reservations eased. Why not? She had earned a night off. "Sure. I suppose it is an occasion to celebrate."

His earnest expression dissolved into another grandiose smile. "Lovely! I will expect you by shortly."

Padme left for her apartment to change into less formal attire. The senate headdresses she wore were often cumbersome and uncomfortable. She never liked to don them any longer than necessary. Once appropriately changed she headed back out to Bail's apartment.

What she had really wanted was to crash in her own bed and sleep, but she knew no sleep would come to her if she tried. No sense in leaving herself to the emotional torture of ruminating over the same words over and over again. It wouldn't change a thing. After such an emotional and exhausting week, a drink sounded right- and drinking alone in her apartment would only make her feel more sorry for herself. That, she didn't need.

The sun was already setting as she made her way over. The whole day had been arduous and never ending, and somehow over before she knew it. She relished the feeling of the warm breeze against her skin as she weaved through the traffic on her short jaunt over to Bails apartment. It reminded her of the gentle summer nights at Varykino. She longed so badly to be there, in the arms of her husband, in a place where nothing else mattered aside from their devotion to each other. But she wasn't there, and if things continued on the way they had been, she might not get to leave at all. Her mind filled with shattered wishes and dashed hopes that she tried to stuff away, only partially successful in her effort.

All too quickly she arrived as she sluggishly climbed out of her speeder and onto the platform outside of Bails apartment. As she made her way to the door she couldn't help but notice the lack of other speeders parked outside. There was no trace of anyone else but herself. He hadn't said anything for her to assume they would be sharing drinks with anyone else, but she hadn't thought he had invited her alone. Had she realized it, she may not have come at all. A glass of wine alone in the confines of her apartment seemed like the favorable option in comparison.

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy Bail's company, it was nice to get out of her mind. She was boxed up inside of her worries and fears all too often these days. Especially ever since the war began. On the rare occasion she had a moment to herself, she usually found herself wondering if Anakin would return to her. Somehow he always did, but she couldn't help the incessant worrying. But this time was different, he had given her fair reason to worry- so worry she did.

There was more than one thing about the whole affair that seemed out of the ordinary. Although she had been used to her husband being quite on the emotional side, it had been out of character for Anakin to be so distraught and averted towards Obi-wan at the same time. Then there was the fact that Obi-wan had been so obviously out of sorts when they had spoken last. Something happened to the two of them, and Anakin was keeping her in the dark. The added stress of her current senatorial affairs did not ease her burden one bit. The combination had her on edge, even her practiced expressions and responses were stretching to their limits.

In the midst of her crumbling front facade, she was about to go share a drink, alone, with the one Senator who could see through nearly everyone he met within only moments. He had a reputation for asking tough questions, poking and prodding until he found the answer to his query. But she wasn't most people, the two of them had fostered a friendship over their years serving together. He knew her very well. She could only hope he would excuse her demeanor as job related stress. But she was already here, and he had already invited her inside.

Oh well, she thought. She wouldn't have to stay long. Just one drink, and then she could go home without seeming too evasive or impolite. Not that her and Bail had cared about politeness and etiquette between the two of them. But leaving so soon would lead him to ask questions. That was the last thing she wanted. Perhaps the drink would help her let loose a bit and forget her worries. What harm could one drink do, anyhow?

"What shall I pour for you, my dear?" Bail asked graciously as Padme settled down in the living area.

"I'll just have what you're having." She said, feigning nonchalance.

"Of course." He replied as he poured two glasses half full of a strong smelling brown liquid and handed her one. "Blackmoon ale with a twist of sarsata peel. I hope you like it, its my favorite." He poised before her holding his glass in a toast. "To democracy."

"To democracy."

…...

The seventh day of travel began with things largely where they had started out all those months ago- divided. Anakin left Obi-wan to cry alone in the hangar bay while he went to lay on a bunk where he proceeded to stare at the blank space above him for hours on end until he lost consciousness. Obi-wan huddled against the steel bulkhead until he ran out of tears, then wavered in and out of a shallow sleep until Ahsoka's rotation at the helm ended. When the time came, his muscles and bones complained from sleeping on such an unforgiving surface. Regardless, he trudged towards the bridge.

As he took over for her, she didn't say a single word. Perhaps she could sense his broken spirit, or maybe she was just tired. Either way, Obi-wan didn't find that he cared too much. It was better that way. He didn't have anything to say to anyone anyhow. He felt hopelessly empty.

He contemplated diving into a meditation for the majority of his watch, but hesitated. He wasn't sure he was ready to even begin to try meditating. That would bring him face to face with the growing list of things that tormented him. They fell so heavily on his shoulders he felt he might fall to the ground where he stood.

There had been a time where Obi-wan could withstand nearly anything without truly breaking. The Jedi within him told him it should have been his will to release his attachments along with his cumbersome emotions into the force that kept him strong. Attachments and blinding emotions were selfish things to cling to, and had no place in a Jedi's heart. Although he did practice letting go, there were some things he couldn't give away. Selfish things. But the truth of his strength was not his Jedi practices, or his own stubborn iron will. The backbone of everything he had built himself to be, the purpose of anything he had ever fought for, was Anakin. It had been for a long time.

Even after his love had been broken before his very eyes, after his own soul had been tainted and stained, a part of him knew it would be okay. There was something inside him that told him it would never be too much. They would get through it together. Nothing would ever be so overwhelming so long as they had their love.

But now Obi-wan could feel every one of his problems materialize around him. Each one feeling like the weight of an entire world. In the midst of the multitude of sins and wounds that plagued his mind, one stung freshly and brightly making him cringe against the painful recollection that his mind kept forcing on him over and over.

Obi-wan was wrought with remorse. He should have never trailed after Anakin. It had been a pathetic childish display. He despised himself for it. If he was being honest with himself, he had done it in selfishness. He had let his attachment to the man crowd out his better judgment. He had been being overbearing. But that hadn't earned him the reaction he received. Anakin had been angry with him plenty of times but this was... New.

He watched the scene unfold in slow motion ceaselessly. Each time it made him feel sicker and more hollow. He couldn't make sense of how Anakin had pinned him in, taunted him. It didn't seem real. The darkness in his eyes, it didn't feel like Anakin. It felt like someone else. Like something else. But it was him. The same man who fought beside him. The same man that had held him so sweetly and tenderly as they made love for the first time. He couldn't wrap his mind around it.

It wasn't that he was afraid of Anakin, he wasn't even mad at him. How could he be? He knew everything that he had went through- he had witnessed it. He knew how hard he had been trying to put himself back together again. But Obi-wan had been right about one thing. Anakin trying to release his trauma into the force all by himself so early on, had been entirely too much for him to handle. He just didn't expect it to manifest the way it had. He loved him- but Obi-wan felt desperately conflicted.

His heart and mind couldn't reconcile with those wicked words he said, or the way he had lashed out violently towards him. The worst of all was how even now he longed to crawl into Anakins arms for comfort. Because there was a part of him that had already forgiven him, felt sorry for him. A part of him that wanted to rush to Anakins side and tell him that everything was going to be alright. The other part of him remembered the venom in his words that congealed over his heart making him sick inside.

One thing he couldn't deny, was that Anakin was right. He did want him. But it was so much more than that. He wanted him for his body, mind, soul. His love and affection. It was a selfish want. Yes, Obi-wan had been ashamed of it. Everything he felt for Anakin, everything he had fantasized for so long- was all forbidden. It went against everything he had been trained to be. Part of himself felt defeated by it. Mostly he didn't care anymore. He had never found anything so pure in the entire universe than the love he had for Anakin; the love they had shared. The code was wrong. It had to have been.

But that hardly mattered now. Things had changed. He didn't know if he could look at Anakin without seeing the dark intent that once danced eerily in his eyes. He didn't know if he could be held in those arms without thinking about how they had been so rough and invading. His image of the one he loved had been tainted. He wasn't sure if there was ever a way back from that. So he sat there in the void between the two halves of himself, waiting to feel whole again. Feeling like his heart had been ripped out of his chest.

…...

While Obi-wan manned the helm and Ahsoka slept, Vokara Che had finally woken up, and Anakin with her. After grabbing a bite to eat she insisted they begin their first mind healing session. Anakin was reluctant. He knew there was no going against the council, and that she had been specifically chosen for the mission not only for her unmatched healing talents, but for her stern manor. She was not persuadable as others might have been. There was no smooth talking his way out of complying and attending their sessions. When she demanded they begin, they began.

With no ideal location to hold their sessions she decided they would go to the hangar bay with a few mats. He intrinsically disliked the idea. How could he focus on healing when all he would be able to focus on was his own worst mistakes? Still, there was no debating with Che. He didn't even try- he knew he lacked the energy for it. It would have been fruitless even if he did.

Anakin and Che cleared mag crates to the sides of the room creating a space between the two vehicles large enough for them. Once they had set the space, they settled down onto their mats. Vokara Che looked strong, her aura was not particularly large, but it shone with a harsh brightness. Concentrated force energy. The signature of a healer. She poised herself, breathing deeply before she began.

"I'm going to take you through a mediation. It will help you begin to work through some of the things you have experienced. It's not a cure, and it can bring up some very uncomfortable feelings. The best you can do is to just observe them. Acknowledge them. It will help your mind process them so that you can release them." She spoke, eyes studying his expression to be sure he understood. She could sense his unease. "Your mediation is completely private. I will not intrude, only guide." His apprehension eased, only by a bit.

He nodded in response.

"Alright Skywalker, clear your mind and focus." She spoke in an instructing voice. It reminded Anakin of his young days as a Padawan in the temple taking classes. His favorite teachers had soothing and calm voices, like the one Vokara Che was using now. It stilled his bitter emotions and brought him to the moment. He would have been annoyed at her tone with him, were it not so nostalgically pleasing. He took a deep unstable breath as he followed her direction.

He tried to clear his mind of the debris field that had been collecting around him. While he was still aware of the things that afflicted him, they slowly faded to the background as he found his center.

"Good. Now, allow yourself to see one thing that burdens you. Only one. Notice that it stays a safe distance from you. It cannot harm you." Her voice became more distant as he became more immersed in the meditation.

He couldn't help but see Obi-wans helplessly sad and tortured eyes looking up into his, begging for him for mercy. Anakin felt a knife tear through his heart when he remembered the raw desperation in his Masters words Stop Anakin, please. You're scaring me.

"As you look at what pains you, give it a name." The guiding voice commanded.

"Regret." He croaked, nearly a whisper. Regret for the flaw in his character that made him so vulnerable to act out of anger. Regret for his choice to give in when he should have held back.

"This regret you harbor, follow the string backwards. Where does it stem from?"

He remembered his hands traveling over his Masters body as he begged him to stop, writhing and thrashing against his hold on him. He felt physically ill at the thought. "Me," he stated as a declaration, to take responsibility for his actions. "I hurt someone out of anger, when they were trying to help me."

"I see." Che said with tones of understanding. He couldn't stand her mildness. He hated it. She didn't understand at all. She had no idea how horrible and dangerous he was. If she had known even a fraction of his true nature, she would be getting as far away from him as possible, not sitting here as if he were any normal patient. His aura flared in anger.

"And how do you feel about yourself within this burden?" She spoke, even softer still.

What words could he say to accurately describe the depths of his self loathing? How much he detested himself, how he would kill himself if he had any less to loose. "I hate myself," he said on the edge of a sob. His voice evened out into monotone resignation. "It would be better if I had been killed in that cell."

"For a moment, forget yourself. Put yourself aside, transcend."

He tried to follow as he was ordered. As he attempted to cleave himself from his essence, residue stuck to his light like tar. It took great effort but eventually he achieved it. It felt like a breath of fresh air. Like he had been stuck on the smoggy surface of some dirty industrial world, and now he had broken free of the atmosphere. For the moment, he had a new perspective, one that was free of his burdens and attachments. For the first time since their capture, his aura expanded to its usual capacity, filling the entire ship and reaching beyond. He was nothing but an orb of white unyielding light that existed separate from everything but the force its self.

"Good," She chided, sounding pleased as how little resistance he was putting up to her direction. As if she had expected him to be more of a challenge. "Now look back at the burden of the regret that Anakin Skywalker carries. What do you see?"

"I see a man drowning under the weight of his pain." He spoke evenly and observantly. "His pain made him afraid. His fear sparked his anger. So now he and the ones close to him suffer."

"What does Anakin Skywalker want?"

"He wants to be forgiven. He wants nothing more than to be able to go back and choose a different path."

"What does he need?"

"To forgive himself."

As the words fell from his lips he could feel his light being pulled back into his body and suppressed, as every fiber in himself opposed the words he had spoken. How was he supposed to forgive himself, when Obi-wan had been so badly hurt? There was nothing he could do to change the way things were. He couldn't take back the words or actions. He couldn't stand the thought of allowing himself the luxury of self forgiveness when Obi-wan was undoubtedly suffering from what he had done. Why did he deserve any less misery when he had put Obi-wan through such pain?

I don't deserve forgiveness. I deserve to suffer.

Che sensed his retreat back into his skin. Although she was mildly irritated, she did not show it. Anakin had done exceedingly well with their first exercise. She knew it would take time. She was not particularly fond of this kind of healing work, it was not as direct as working with body tissues. Organs and viscera did not resist being put back together- the mind was so much more complex. But of course she would never betray a direct request from the council. She took her orders seriously. This was as much for Anakin's benefit as to her own. It was a lesson in patience that she sorely needed.

"You have done well, Anakin. Understand this work will take time. Lets meet here again tomorrow at the same time."

Anakin had been expecting her to drive him on back into the meditation. He wanted to keep on going. He wanted to conquer whatever there was to conquer, fix what they could fix. What else was he going to do around here? He had already dismantled half the ship with improvements recently. Opportunities to tinker were slim.

"Are you sure we shouldn't keep on going?" Anakin asked anxiously as Che rose up from her mat.

"Anakin, these things cannot be rushed. Although in a short time, you have done much work today. Give yourself time to let it settle in." She said kindly, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "I will be up in the galley reading if you need me." She left him there as he still sat poised on his mat.

As she left him there alone another wave of anger threatened to take him over. It was a plague. Why did he have so much of it inside of him? He already knew the answer. He had said it himself. His fear led him to be angry. It was truer than could ever be stated. He had been terrified back on that ship. The shadow of his fear haunted him in every nightmare and flashback, taking him back to that place of powerless shame.

It was so much easier to be angry than afraid. There was no power in fear.

Anger was nothing but raw power, unrestrained and untamed. In anger his heart could reclaim what had been taken from him. When he was filled with rage, no one could hurt him- besides himself.

And how devastating giving into the rage had been.

It was wrong. He hated it. It felt like a disease that turned his spirit black with rot. His anger was an answer to his fear that promised to protect him, that he would never have to suffer at the hands of another ever again. But at what cost? He nearly felt as helpless towards the rage as he did towards his trauma.

He began to feel restless. He wished there was something to do, but there was nothing. All of this might have been easier if he had the opportunity to get away. He couldn't run any saber drills- the space in the hangar had been too cluttered. He didn't want to meditate on his problems alone, it hadn't turned out well the last time. He wasn't tired or hungry. He wasn't about to strike up conversation with Che. The only other person awake was Obi-wan.

He felt like it would be selfish to go to him now and tell him how sorry he was. Obi-wan had every right to be hurt, every right to want to be alone, as Anakin imagined he would be. Anakin had no place to go before him and beg forgiveness- it would be outrageous to suggest he deserved it. Had anyone else put their hands on him as he had done, Anakin would have torn them to pieces. But it wasn't someone else who had hurt him, he thought shamefully. It was me. Obi-wan shouldn't forgive him. He shouldn't be near to him at all. The only thing he could bring to his beloved master was more pain and suffering.

No, he couldn't go to him. He settled into a meditation instead. Full of restless energy, he picked up the crates in the hangar one by one until they were all suspended. Then he added the speeder, then his fighter, until the only thing settled on the hangar floor was himself. Soon he was no longer touching the floor either. It didn't take much focus or ability, it was more an outlet for his anxiety- a way to keep his mind off of things for a little while at least. If he maintained this for a few hours, he might actually feel worn by the time he had finished.

…...

It was nearing midnight and Padme was still over at Bail's apartment. The two of them had shared more drinks than they could count. Bail had a talent for telling jokes that kept Padme enthralled drink after drink, laughing until she couldn't breathe. With each drink the jokes seemed to get funnier.

The two of them were sprawled out on the sofa that overlooked the transparisteel window to the vast space beyond. It was beautiful. Somehow even more so under the influence of too much alcohol. She was completely grounded in the moment, not thinking about anything beyond her field of vision. Even though her senses had become skewed, at last, where the sadness had been carving away at her chest felt full and warm. She would most likely come to regret it in the morning with a sharp headache and nausea, but right now she didn't care.

"Bail," she placed an unsteady hand on his shoulder to catch the mans waning attention. "Do you ever wonder what our lives would have been like, had we never gotten into politics?" She asked him with squinting eyes, a finger pointing towards his chest. "What would you be doing right now?" Her words were drawn out and slurred at this point.

His tone shifted from jolly to more thoughtful and serious- as serious as one could be with the drawn out distortion to ones words while under the influence of so much alcohol. "There isn't any other life for me. I was born into it, groomed for it. My entire life has been about politics. Even my marriage was a political move."

"I had no idea," Padme said overly entrenched by his words, as if he had said the most interesting sentence she had ever heard in her life.

"That's not to say I regret my path. It is an honor to be able to do what we do." He said, exclaiming holding a hand to his chest for emphasis. "How many people are in a position to change the lives of trillions of other souls? Who else would you trust with that kind of power?"

"I don't even trust myself with that kind of power, when you put it like that," She said, returning to a joyful laughter, her head cocked to the side in a drunken manner. "It's absurd." They began to laugh even harder, as if it had been the joke of the century.

"What- what about you, where would you be?" Bail asked through the trailing end of his cackling.

"I..." She paused, appearing deep in distorted thought. "I suppose I would be back on Naboo, doing what, I'm not sure. I never had any other serious interests other than political science. My parents didn't try to push me, I just happened to take it up naturally." Padme said, nodding at her own words as if someone else had spoken them.

"Well then I suppose it was fated." Bail said groggily.

"I suppose so." Padme said on the edge of a giggle. She squinted at the time for a few seconds attempting to read it. After a few moments she realized how late it had gotten. "Bail it's late, and you're probably tired. I'm afraid I've nearly worn out your generous hospitality," She said humorously, gesturing grandly with her arm in jest.

"Not possible, my dear." He said shaking his head, hand over his heart, feigning offense. Shaking his head made him feel dizzy to which he brought his hand to his temples to try and steady his senses.

"I should go and get some rest," she said, suddenly feeling the drinks hit her harder than before as the room began to spin uncomfortably around her. Her limbs felt both heavy and light at the same time. Her body was hot to the touch. She didn't think she had ever been so intoxicated in her life.

"You are hardly in a state to take yourself home. And I am neither fit to take you myself." He said, still drawing out his words in drunkenness. He was right. If she had been thinking ahead she might have brought a driver to take her home, but she had ever expected to stay so long. One drink had led to another, which led to another. She had been thankful the effects of the drink had canceled out her anxieties.

"I suppose you're right," She said, becoming slightly nauseous as she nodded her head. "I think I may have had a bit too much to drink." She said, bringing her hand to her forehead.

"I'm sorry my dear, it happens to the best of us. I'll get you a glass of water and a stim" He said as he rose, nearly loosing his balance.

"What do I need a stim for? You know I don't take those." She said, in drawn out words that were beginning to blend in to each other.

"It would help with the spins," Bail explained. "Are you sure you don't want one?" He squinted at her as if she had said the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

"I'd rather not," She said as she rose from the sofa in an unsteady manner. "I just need to splash some cold water on my face."

"As you wish," He said as he went to the kitchen to fetch two glasses of water.

Padme moved to the fresher and closed the door behind her, steadying herself against the counter, gripping its edges for support. Moving only made her feel more intoxicated. She was shocked at her appearance, her face flushed and hair disheveled. Turning on the faucet the icy cold water felt wonderful against her skin. She splashed it over her face messily, managing to get it everywhere else as well. Searching blindly beside the sink she found a towel and patted her face dry. Her skin appeared less flushed, but still her cheeks were an embarrassingly rosy color. It was so out of character for her to drink so much, but she didn't have the capacity to care about that. She had earned a break away from her duties and stresses.

Opening the door to the fresher she moved towards the couch where Bail sat sipping on a glass of water. He had already set one on the table for her as well.

"Feeling better?" He asked, still visibly intoxicated.

"Quite," she said, only partially lying. Her stomach felt better, but the room continued to shift around her. Bail might have developed a tolerance over the years, where she had hardly touched a drop of alcohol her entire life. Although he had been drinking more heavily than she was. The two of them were equally intoxicated.

"With drinking as in all things, practice makes perfect." Bail said with a roguish grin and a sinister chuckle.

"I suppose you have had quite a bit of practice then?" She added as she wobbled closer, holding her arms out for balance as she teetered.

"Indeed." He nodded, taking another sip of his water, nearly missing his lips with the glass.

Padme had gotten her foot caught on a leg of the coffee table. Suddenly the room around her shifted in a blur, and she found herself face down in Bail's chest with water spilled all over the two of them. She moved her hands to brace against his shoulders as she tried to right herself, struggling to do so as the last few drinks began to hit her at once.

"I'm so sorry! I'm such a clumsy mess," she lamented, mortified and embarrassed as much as her drunkenness would allow.

Instead of the mocking retort she expected, looking up at his face he looked shocked and speechless, caught off guard. For a moment she wondered if the glass had hit his head. She moved her hands to his face and drew herself close to him, inspecting him for traces of blood.

Instead she saw the look of a man who was taken over by desire.

Suddenly she became acutely aware of how close their lips were. Now, frozen in the lustful gaze of her colleague, she felt naked and confused. If her inhibitions were still intact, she would have immediately rejected her body's provocative suggestions. Now they seemed intriguing and overpowering.

Bail attempted to restrain himself, unwilling to put his hands on her or close the distance between their lips. It was out of character for him to be given into temptation- he was a man of honor. He had always found Padme beautiful and charming but his better judgment had never let him entertain the thought for even a moment.

Now, as their bodies had been pressed against one another, as Padme had fallen into his arms, he couldn't shake the way she suddenly looked so alluring. The soft glow of her skin, the blush in her cheeks. He tried and failed to stifle the evidence of his arousal that swelled between his thighs.

"Padme," He whispered as a question, perhaps the semblance of objection. The sound of her name so desperately spoken sent currents of electricity through her body. Without so much as a second thought, or a thought at all, her instincts took over.

She quickly crushed her lips against his, moving herself to straddle his hips. He found himself kissing her back hastily and sloppily, both of them drunkenly uncoordinated as they searched out each others mouths. Intuitively he put his hands on her hips and wandered, feeling the contour of her curves.

Padme threw back her head, letting out a small moan as she felt his girth press against her own aching loins. She began to grind against him, arching her back. In her intoxicated state, the pleasure that welled up in her felt amplified and left her gasping for air. Each touch sent echos through her body overwhelming her senses. She consisted of only her deepest desires and basest instincts. All other parts of her had drowned in too many drinks. Bails hands continued to wander over her small delicate body. With her leaning back like this he could see her breasts through the drenched fabric of her gown, her nipples hard and pronounced through the cloth. He thumbed over them lightly and she moaned in encouragement.

She was growing more and more ravenous as each second passed. She needed someone inside of her more than she could ever remember. She returned to kissing him, this time faster and harder, trailing her tongue down his neck and around his ear. "Kriff me," she begged in a moan, biting at his earlobe. It sent Bail reeling. No one had ever spoken to him like that.

He was speechless as he moved to pull her dress over her head. They continued to explore each others mouths, heaving for air. Bail's arousal ached with need as he noticed her wearing nothing but a trim of lace for panties underneath her dress. As Bail hastily clawed at his pants, Padme moved to kneel on the floor before him and swatted his hands away, clumsily untying the laces that restrained his throbbing manhood. His girth was substantial, she felt herself wet and dripping in anticipation. She took him in her hands and in her mouth, slowly at first. Bail groaned in pleasant surprise as she took an impressive amount of him inside of her before she withdrew to bring him back again. Soon he was dripping wet. She bit her lip as she climbed on top of him, pressing his tip against her entrance.

As she slowly mounted him, she couldn't stifle the sounds of her pleasure and surprise at how his girth had filled her in a way she had never been before. Already her back was arching, her body alive with waves of pleasure, and he had only just entered her.

Bail was also caught off guard at how wet and tight she was. She worked herself on top of him in a quick pace, grinding in all the right ways, clenching in all the right places, reducing the man underneath her to pieces. Already she was too close to orgasm. She tried to hold out longer, to stave it off but there was no delaying it as it ripped through her body. She grinned against him as she came, pulsing tightly on the cock that filled her. But she wasn't close to being satisfied yet. She dismounted him and moved to lay on the sofa face down, pulling Bail down on top of her, not a word passing between them- only grunts and moans.

Bail tried to be gentle as he entered her from behind. Immediately he found a steady rhythm, pulling out just enough to hit her g spot with each thrust. He enjoyed the sensation of bringing so much pleasure to the writhing form that squirmed beneath him. He had never had such an enthusiastic lover in his life.

Padme's eyes were closed as she drank in the sensation of a body on top of her own, taking her, hands searching out her curves. In her mind she saw Anakin's muscled form working over her delicate frame, his face would be in a beautiful expression of pleasure and desperation. She loved how he could be so rough with her, how he wasn't afraid to handle her body. No other lover she had ever experienced had treated her with such passion. They had all been too afraid to hurt her. She did look delicate on the exterior, but she hated the feeling of being treated as a weaker vessel. She wanted to feel hands rough over her, move her where she was wanted most. Making love to a Jedi could prove to be interesting. Sometimes Anakin would gently force choke her while on the edge of a climax, sending her into heightened waves of ecstasy. He knew how she loved to be handled, and enjoyed giving her the treatment she desired.

"Harder," she begged in a ragged cry. He quickly complied. He was pounding her hard stem to root mercilessly. Both of them were gasping for air between whimpers and moans. Quickly she was rising to climax again as hands roughly gripped the curves of her hips. This is what it felt like to be wanted.

"Oh Ani..."

Only this wasn't Anakin. This was someone else- she had nearly forgotten. Her second climax hit her forcefully as she remembered whose hands were gripping her so desperately, whose length was deep inside of her. Her moans and shivers came with fresh tears pooling in her eyes when she realized what she had done.

Oh Anakin...You'll never forgive me.

As Padme came the second time Bail was nearing climax. Typically he wouldn't have lasted so long, but the drinks he had consumed were affecting him in more ways than just one. Padme could feel him hardening inside of her in the quick moment before his orgasm. It made her stomach sick. It only took a few more seconds for him to spill his seed inside of her, as he slammed himself against her violently, grunting low and biting at her shoulders.

The moments after were uneasy. Bail was still inside of her as he collapsed atop her in a tired drunken heap. Padme felt frozen in shock, the height of her intoxication worn off by physical activity and terror.

Bail had been so out of it that she thought he must not have noticed when she cried out Anakin's name, or at least he didn't let on that he noticed. Judging from how he was asleep on top of her, she assumed he had missed it. Or so she hoped at the very least. Bail wouldn't be one to spill their secret, but anyone finding out that didn't absolutely need to know was a liability. Even suspicion was to be avoided. They had gone great lengths to make it that way.

But perhaps none of that mattered now, she thought as she crawled out from underneath her sleeping colleague, repulsed by the semen that leaked out of her. Disgusted with herself that she had allowed this to happen. Surely Anakin would know the next time he laid eyes on her what she had done. If he couldn't sense it in her anxious spirit, he would be able to catch the residual presence of the other man who had been inside of her.

It had always been uncanny to her that he could come into her apartment and tell her the senators she must have had over, and where they had sat with complete accuracy. He explained it as a residual force presence left behind by the beings that came and went. She imagined with fear what he would do when he realized what she had done. Not only to her, but to Bail. Anakin was very capable of killing in a blind rage. Now not only had she dishonored her marriage but she had put an unsuspecting colleague in danger.

Padme grabbed her clothing off the floor and went to the fresher to dress herself. Quickly she called a cab to take her back to her own apartment. She felt sick and dirty. She wanted nothing more than to shower, to feel clean. To rid herself of the warm sensation of seed in her womb. Usually it had been a pleasant reminder of the one she loved so dearly. Now it felt like a sick dread, a mockery of her love for Anakin.

She felt shameful as she climbed into the cab and departed for home. She must have wreaked of alcohol and sex. She could only imagine if a holonet reporter caught her in such a state, her career would be over. Her dress was still damp in the front and her hair was completely disheveled. She felt bare and exposed. She couldn't remember a time in her life she had ever felt so low, so treacherous. She could have explained it away by blaming all of the extra stresses in her life, or waived it off as a temporary lapse in otherwise perfectly good judgment. After all, in essence it was true. She had been unwavering in faithfulness, until now.

In the end she found she couldn't blame anyone but herself. Not her stresses, not the drinking. Certainly not Bail. She had practically forced herself on him at first. She wanted to tear her heart out at the thought. How desperate she must have been to fall so low. Anakin had been everything she had ever wanted. He loved her- truly loved her. He could be possessive at times but she found it flattering, that such a strong Jedi could compromise so much to love her so jealously. He could be irrational and emotional, but it was part of him. Part of the beautiful spark in his eyes that she saw every time he smiled or laughed. And she just threw it all away.

Finally she arrived home and hurried inside. Like usual C3PO was scurrying after her with his various inquiries and observations. She hadn't heard a word of what he said as she ran to her room and slammed the door behind her. She tore off the dress and undergarment and threw them in the trash. She would never be able to wear them again without thinking of the terrible thing she had just done.

As she walked into the fresher she didn't dare look in the mirror as she adjusted the shower before she climbed inside. Frantically she cleaned herself all over. She tried to get all that she could. Still it was not enough. She could feel him still. Her belly churned anxiously as she began to wretch the contents of her stomach onto the shower floor. There wasn't much there aside from whatever left over alcohol there was and stomach acid. She kept on heaving until her legs felt weak, as if she could get rid of the sick dread that still lodged its self deep in her belly. She tried and failed.

After showering until her hands and feet were uncomfortably pruning, she decided to give up the effort. She toweled herself off and collapsed under her bed sheets. Even now, she could smell the feint smell Anakin had left even though his last visit had been several weeks prior. She held his pillow close to her as she cried. Her heart broken in so many wretched pieces.