Chapter 25

Padmé stopped in at the temple to check on Mace's condition before returning home. A healer she didn't recognize was sitting on the ground by the bacta tank, one hand against the glass, their eyes closed. Another healer took a few moments to explain to Padmé that the healers were taking turns ensuring Mace was placed into a deep healing trance - and stayed there - to accelerate the healing process.

Satisfied that the Jedi Master was in good hands, Padmé and Cordé returned to her apartment. Cordé spent the next hour packing her things and assisting Padmé with her hair as Padmé prepared for the dinner date Anakin had promised her.

Her eyes sparkled with anticipation and if her smile held a slight tremor of anxiety it was put down to her knowledge of Anakin's unspoken promise. She didn't know what to expect tonight other than he had sworn she would enjoy it. And she was willing to believe him. Any event, even a simple dinner, would be heaven with him.

"Padmé?"

"Hmm?"

Cordé stuck her head into the master suite. "You've a call coming through. Did you want me to get it?"

"I'll grab it. Are you just about packed?"

"Ready and waiting." Cordé's smile was mysterious. "I can't say I blame you for wanting to get rid of me. I'll see you at the Temple in the morning, alright?"

"Cordé?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks. For everything."

She shrugged. "That's what friends are for." She disappeared.

Padmé grinned. Friends indeed! She turned, flipping the switch for her comm. unit and accepted the call. Anakin wouldn't be calling to cancel on her, would he? The face that resolved itself in the image was the last one she expected to see. "Chancellor!"

His smile was easy, almost delighted. "My dear. I just heard about your win in today's Tribunal session. Let me be the first to extend my congratulations."

"Thank you, Chancellor." She hadn't been expecting to hear from him; not this soon at any rate. "It's a great relief that I will be allowed to go back into my practice."

"So soon?" He looked puzzled. "Was I misinformed?"

"Misinformed, sir?"

The Chancellor regarded her for a moment with an expression she couldn't read and then smiled. "I had heard you were tending to a critically wounded Jedi. Seeing as how Anakin is no longer wounded, I had assumed it was something new."

She let out a silent breath and nodded. "You're correct, Chancellor, I am tending a Jedi who's been wounded. Fortunately he's out of the most dangerous portion of the treatment. That is, until we begin rehabilitation."

"Splendid! I see you are intent on celebrating, would you be inclined to grace me with your presence and join me for dinner this evening, Doctor? To celebrate your win, of course."

She blinked and then fought down the urge to panic. She couldn't very well tell the Chancellor she had a date with a Jedi, nor could she tell him no politely. She cast about for options, staring at his pleasantly smiling face. Nothing came to her. Not one thing. She opened her mouth to respond and then snapped it shut. She couldn't accept; she'd already accepted Anakin's invitation!

"Doctor?"

She swallowed hard. She was going to have to tell him no and hope she didn't offend. "I'm afraid I have already made plans this evening, Chancellor. Plans that I am loathe to break, even with such a tempting offer. May I take a rain check? Tomorrow evening, perhaps?"

The Chancellor's image stared at her silently and she wondered if she'd managed to offend him. Finally he nodded. "Tomorrow evening, then. You can join me for the Symphony and then dinner."

"I'd be delighted, Chancellor. Will 1800 do?"

"It will be my pleasure, Doctor. 1800 is fine. Enjoy your evening."

His image disappeared and Padmé placed her hand over her heart, wondering at the tension his request had caused. She'd become frightened, almost panicked, as she'd fought to find a reason to say no and an alternative. At least he'd understood. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves the call had left behind, wondering if hiding her relationship with Anakin would get easier with time, or if it would always be this way. Half-truths, compromises and surprise.

She took a look at herself in the mirror. The sparkle had faded from her eyes, dulled with the knowledge that she would likely never be able to tell anyone, not even Cordé, about the extent of this evening. Dulled with the comprehension of just what it was that she was getting herself into. She bit her lip, taking another deep breath, and then squared her shoulders.

She'd known before she said yes to Anakin. Determinedly, she reached for her eye shadow and pushed the thoughts from her mind. She was going to enjoy Anakin's company this evening, and nothing, not even an ill-timed call from the Chancellor, was going to ruin it.

Padmé couldn't keep the smile from her face as she answered the door chime.

Anakin Skywalker, magnificent in his Jedi robes with his boots shined to almost mirror reflection, waited for her with an answering smile on his lips. She did a double take.

He was dressed in black pants, a hair shy of being indecently tight, and his jerkin one she hadn't seen before, a shade lighter than the black of his pants. He wore a cream colored shirt underneath the jerkin; the collar folded back and open at the throat, complimenting the ensemble with a flash of contrast. The faint odor of boot polish mingled with his natural scent of spice and machine fluid.

Padmé inhaled deeply without quite realizing what she was doing, noting that his eyes dropped as she did.

She wore a daringly cut black gown, one that Cordé had given her early on in the trial once the whole story of her involvement with Anakin had come out. Cordé had insisted she have something "just in case" and she was glad her friend had thought ahead. As a doctor she had very little in the way of social clothing.

She reached down and rustled the skirt a little, feeling a blush crawling up her neck. "Will it do?"

"Do?" Anakin almost croaked the word. He cleared his throat. "It will more than do. I didn't realize you owned anything like this..."

Was that awe she heard in his tone? She turned once, giving him a full look. Her hair was piled high on her head, cascading down across bare shoulders and back. The gown was black and purple with sequined straps and seams. It glittered as she turned; revealing a fuller skirt than it belied which just about touched the ground. The piece was form fitting, revealed more cleavage than she'd ever dared and was accompanied with matching two inch heels.

The look on Anakin's face warmed her through as she met his gaze again. It took a moment before he found his voice and she was infinitely, femininely pleased by the reaction.

"Do you have a wrap or a coat? It's a bit chilly tonight."

Padmé collected the beaded creation from the hook inside the door and shrugged into it carefully. Anakin offered her his arm and she hesitated before taking it.

"It's alright." His assurance was soft. "I'm here officially unofficial tonight."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Anakin chuckled. "The Masters found out I had offered to take you out for a celebratory dinner. As a Thank You, they made reservations and are covering the tab."

She blinked. "They didn't need to-"

Anakin placed a finger against her lips, his blue eyes having darkened considerably since she'd first opened the door. "No, they didn't, but I'm willing to take advantage of it if it means I have their consent for a single night to ensure you enjoy yourself. I have my orders, Padmé. You wouldn't want me to fail, would you?"

She kissed the tip of his fingers, noting how his eyes flickered and then smiled, almost playfully. "We wouldn't want that, would we? Well then, Jedi Skywalker, you had best live up to your promise."

He escorted her to the turbo lift and in before hitting the deck for the speeders. "I shall do my best, Milady. I promise you shan't be disappointed this evening."

Padmé wondered if Anakin ever failed at anything. Dinner had been wonderful. While he hadn't cooked - and she'd teasingly accused him of cheating - their meal had been fabulous. The Coruscant Wave, a posh, upscale and expensive restaurant, was one she'd never even dreamed of frequenting. She knew they were surrounded by senators and other high class citizens, influential people who would do wonders for her practice, but she didn't care.

She had eyes only for Anakin and, when their meal was over and he offered his hand, she gladly accepted it. Anakin led her onto the dance floor, his gaze never leaving hers as he twirled her once, lining her up into a position so that he took a single half steps and she was in his arms.

The music was soft, though Padmé barely noticed as he swung her around the floor. Dimly she wondered she he'd learned to dance, but it didn't really matter. His gaze never left hers as they traveled the length of the floor and then back, dancing first one and then a second song in silence.

As the second song ended, Anakin reluctantly led her off the floor and back to their table. Padmé felt like she was floating, like it was something out of a dream as he held her chair and then retook his own.

It wasn't until her glass had been refilled and Anakin took a sip of his own that she found her voice. "Wherever did you learn to dance?"

Anakin's half-smile appeared. "There's nothing to it, really."

"That doesn't answer my question." She took a sip of her drink. "Where did you learn and when did you find the time?"

Anakin chuckled. "Etiquette is an essential part of any Jedi's life, Padmé."

"Don't tell me they include dancing lessons as a part of your training."

"Well, not exactly." His eyes sparkled and she could tell he was enjoying leading her on.

"Then what?"

"You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

He paused and then shrugged. "I've watched and learned."

She blinked. "You're right; I don't believe you. Dancing is not something one learns by only watching. You have experience leading a partner around the floor, Anakin. Who was she?"

He reached down and placed his lightsaber on the table. "Padmé, meet my dancing partner." His eyes sparkled with mischief and dark humor. "The footwork on the dance floor is very similar to that of my training routines. It didn't take much to change it to suit leading a partner."

Padmé burst out laughing and threw her napkin at him. "You're making fun of me!"

"No, honestly!" His answering smile was all honesty and chagrin. "Just don't tell Obi-Wan. He'd never believe me you if he heard I could dance."

Padmé took another drink, shaking her head. "You're full of surprises, Anakin, you know that? I've had a wonderful time tonight."

"Me too." He nodded towards the dance floor. "I'd ask you to dance with me again, but people might start to talk."

"Talk?"

He nodded. "There are several press attachés here, along with two journalists and a holo reporter. We caused quite a stir when we walked in."

"I didn't notice." Her murmured response was partly chagrin. She hadn't noticed. She'd been too focused on Anakin and their seats, semi-private, and too focused on enjoying his company to notice anyone that might intrude. To notice the dangers and hazards of being in public, despite the council's approval.

He reached across the table to take her hand, lacing their fingers together deliberately. "I'm glad you didn't notice, Padmé. It would have made for an awkward evening. I didn't want you to be thinking about them when you deserved to enjoy yourself. Tonight is supposed to be special."

"It was special." She squeezed his fingers and then, reluctantly, untangled her own, placing them in her lap, suddenly conscious of the eyes that he'd known were watching them. She smiled wanly. "I think you'd better take me home, Anakin."

Anakin sighed. "I didn't mean to ruin this for you."

"You didn't. I'd just like to be out of prying eyes for a while."

He pushed to his feet, collecting her jacket and then held it as she slipped into it, allowing his fingers to caress the bare skin of her shoulders innocently - but deliberately. She shivered, taking a moment to set the wrap as Anakin signaled for the waiter. He spoke with the man briefly and then the waiter nodded, presenting a pad, to which Anakin pressed his thumb print, and then disappeared.

Anakin escorted Padmé from the restaurant and back to the speeder. She settled in, closing her eyes as she laid her head against the head rest, and wondered how she could have been so naive.