"You," Padme snarled. "Palo Jemabie." She glared at him in contempt. "No wonder I didn't recognize you- I thought I had rid myself of your filthy memory a long time ago."

"Oh, save the pretty words for later, my sweet," he drawled, "when you're screaming under me." He caressed her cheek, moving her hair back from her neck and leaning down to bite down hard on the soft flesh. Padme cringed in pain, trying not to cry out and inching as far back as the granite tiles of the floor would allow. She tried to slap him, but he grabbed her arms in a vice-like grip, twisting them out of the way. "Now, Padme," he growled. "You be a good girl."

Palo smashed his lips against hers, shoving his tongue into her mouth She coughed, choking, endeavoring in vain to breathe through his aggressive kisses. He moaned in ecstasy, grabbing her breast and squeezing so tightly Padme couldn't help but let out a pained whimper. In desperation, she bucked her hips, attempting to throw him off, only to succeed in grinding quite thoroughly against Palo. He growled savagely, pressing himself hard against her. "I knew you wanted me too, sweetheart," he laughed, his teeth and flecks of saliva hitting her lips as he spoke. "Even with your precious Jedi, you still can't resist your need for me." He rubbed roughly against her, not seeing to understand that her squirming body was not trying to create friction between them, but trying to wriggle out from beneath his grasp.

Even in her panic, Padme rolled her eyes. How could he not understand such simple body language? She switched her tactic, moving her head violently back and forth to avoid his sloppy kisses. Snarling, he braced his elbow at the crook of her neck, crushing her windpipes and making her gasp for air. "Get off me, you animal," she rasped, not allowing him to see the fear seeping through her. Where was Anakin? Reality hit her with the force of a bullet. She had always believed he would rescue her . . . but what if he didn't? What if he didn't come until it was too late- or he never came at all? What if her Ani was in danger?

She tried to reach out into their bond, but she was too weak, her head spinning from the lack of oxygen. Her trepidation mounted to an even higher peak, a tear of frustration rolling down her cheek. Her eyesight turned blurry, her resistance crumbling as her attempts to free herself only brought increased pain to her neck.

"Don't struggle, Angel," he growled. "The more you fight, the more it will hurt. Just relax and enjoy it."

"S-Such . . . an uncivilized . . . brute . . . does not warrant . . . a response," she gasped defiantly.

She closed her eyes as Palo tore the front of her dress, a jolt of cold air hitting her skin as her bra was exposed. He didn't even hesitate for a second as he ripped that clean off as well. Her breathing was ragged and sporadic now, her consciousness beginning to falter and her sight going in and out. But she was almost glad of it, as she felt his vile breath on her breast, coming nearer and nearer . . .

Until it was gone.

"No one is permitted to call Padme Amidala Skywalker an angel aside from me."

Somehow his weight had been removed from her, but her mind barely registered the fact as she fell back against the tiles, her lungs filling with air and her chest heaving- her sole thought to take in as much of the sweet air as she could.

Wait . . . sweet air?

It wasn't just air that she had been deprived of, but air filled with a scent of . . .

She jerked herself upright, coughing violently and gripping her collarbone, her eyes darting around for the source of the smell. To her frustration, her vision swam before her eyes, only allowing her to see dark shapes shifting back and forth in front of her. She was vaguely aware of a scuffle, a loud thud, and someone groaning on the floor, when she was swept up off the ground by two very strong, very familiar arms.

"Padme! Padme!" Anakin's voice was low and frantic, but she had never heard anything more beautiful in her life. "Are you all right?! Are you hurt?" He sounded close to tears. "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier! I'm so sorry, Angel! I can't believe I let this happen to you!"

"A-Anakin," she murmured, vaguely able to see his blurry features. She could only focus on his eyes, the bright cerulean blue that she loved, alight with worry and love. "I-I love you."

Through the distress, a smile broke over his handsome features. "I know, Padme." His voice saddened. "I only wish you knew how much more I love you." He kissed her forehead. "I'm so sorry I'm late, Angel. Are you all right?"

She reached up run her hands through his hair, savoring the familiar feeling of her fingers in his soft blond locks. "Don't worry, Ani. I'm fine." She smiled, tracing the scar across his eye. "Perfect, actually."

Anakin leaned down to inhale her scent, a warm light in his eyes. "I've missed . . . "

Suddenly, he froze.

"Anakin?" Silence. "Anakin, what's wrong?"

His eyes were steely, his expression very careful, though she could feel the brewing danger from the fury he was holding back for her sake. "Angel . . . what - exactly - did he do?" His voice was quiet, carefully controlled. It scared her.

"W-What? Anakin, it's okay, I'm fine . . . "

"You don't look fine."

"Anakin, I-"

"You don't have to lie to me, Padme. Darth Vader didn't ruin my eyesight."

"What-"

"I can see the marks on your neck, and the bruises forming all over your body," Anakin said, his eyes flashing and voice hard as ice. "Don't try and hide them from them. I can see them." His touch, light as feathers, drifted over her neck, her collarbone, then down to her arms, her wrists. She looked down to see Anakin staring at her legs, fingernail marks on her legs from where Palo had grabbed her roughly, surrounded by finger-shaped bruises starting to blossom on her pale skin.

Padme jerked her dress down, not wanting Anakin to worry any further about her. "I'm fine, Anakin, I swear. It's not as bad as it-"

He backed away, as if being near her any longer would cause him to erupt. "I'll be back, Angel," he said slowly, his words strained. "Just let me deal with something, and I'll be back. I promise."

Feared gripped Padme, his cold yellow eyes burning into her mind. "Ani!" She grabbed at his cloak, pulling her to him. "Anakin, don't . . . don't kill him . . . " She hesitated, searching his face earnestly. "Please?"

His gaze softened, his expression becoming determined and a small smile tugging on his lips. "Don't worry, Padme." He straightened with an air of mock solemnity, giving her a silly little salute. "I killed that weak fool Darth Vader long ago."

She couldn't help the giggle that escaped her as her heart gave a familiar flutter. Anakin was still able to pull so easily at her heartstrings, even in the serious moment. And he was hers - all hers - and this time with nothing else attached, neither Vader nor forced secrecy of their relationship, nor even harbored resentment against the Jedi. Just Anakin- but then so much more. He was again the little boy from Tatooine she loved so dearly, yet her same Ani she adored, her best friend, her protector, her comforter, her lover. A smile took over her features. "I love you," she said simply, knowing he would understand everything she needed to convey.

His grin widened. "Angel," he whispered, "I have never loved you more than right now."

Palo Jemabie struggled to his feet, the room spinning wildly before him and a sharp pain in his head. Putting his hands to his temple, he groaned, falling back down, only to let out a shriek as he banged down on something very hard. He rolled over to see . . . white? Marble? Where was he? Wasn't his humble artist's home made of wood?

He closed his eyes, fighting the biting pain. His whole body throbbed, like he had just fallen off a climb. He didn't want to get up . . . just lie there until it went away . . .

"Get up and face me like a man, you scumbag," a voice hissed.

Palo moaned in pain, suddenly cringing back as he felt a sharp stab in his back. "What the . . . ?!" He jerked violently to his feet, his eyes darting around for the source of the attack. His gaze focused on a tall, handsome man in dark Jedi robes, with long blond locks and a look of distaste in his hard blue eyes.

Oh, kriff . . . he thought, shrinking back. The not-so-little Jedi . . .

"That's right," Anakin agreed, his eyes narrowed. "Not so little after all. Thought I wasn't gonna show up? Let you rape my wife and get away with it?"

Palo visibly blanched. The Jedi could read his thoughts? He quickly tried to cover up his shock, contorting his features into a charming fake smile. "Umm, give me a break, me raping -uh- the Senator? She was all over me! Did you see the way she-"

"Liar!"

Pain splintered through his body, his head snapping back as he was Force-thrown against the granite counter. Anakin was before him in a second, his face nearing his with a murderous expression in his eyes. "I would love to kill you, you know that?" he breathed silkily. Palo gasped, bringing his hands up to claw at an invisible one as he felt air being sucked from his lungs. "I would love to just wring your dirty neck . . . Help you to understand how Padme felt when you were suffocating her . . . " He moved away suddenly, disgusted, letting Palo drop to a heap at his feet. "But you're not worth my time."

Palo staggered to his feet, his fists clenched. His fury blinded him to foolishness, his pride smarting. "Y-You kriffing Jedi scum! Thinking you're so much better than everyone else! I don't need to rely on some stupid Force. Face me head on without it like a man! Unless," he spat on the ground, "you aren't one."

"Oh, little artist." Anakin smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as he raised himself to his full height. "I don't need the Force to be better than you. And I also don't need to prove to myself, or anyone else, that I am a man." He cocked an eyebrow. "Unlike someone."

Palo opened his mouth, furious- but nothing came out before Anakin was upon him, shoving him roughly against the wall. His gloved hands were on Palo's neck, tightening just the slightest, like a cobra teasing its prey before the kill. "I will spare your worthless life," Anakin said calmly, "not because I forgive you, or because you don't deserve death, or even because I'm a good person- but for the sake of my wife. I never want to be parted from her again, so if sparing your miserable animal hide is what it takes for that to be the case, so be it. Let us just be clear." He looked Palo in the eye, his icy and dangerous. "If you ever come one step near my wife again, there will be hell to pay. I will be with her- always. And if you think I won't hesitate to snap your vile neck if you step within one hundred kilometers of Padme . . . " He laughed. "Well, not that I'm proud of it, I've killed many people, animal. Many people. So do not make the mistake of believing I will have any qualms about killing you the next time I see you." He leaned nearer, his breath on Palo's terrified face. "Am I understood?"

Palo shook his head frantically, regret but submission clear in his eyes. He remembered all too well the feeling of the Jedi's fingers on his throat, slowly crushing his windpipes as his life swam before his very eyes. The Jedi was powerful, far more powerful than any he had ever encountered, even the blond Jedi Skywalker Junior and the pretty Ms. Skywalker Junior. There was no point in messing with him. He'd do better to just make do with the whores in the club. At least they were willing, and didn't cause a fuss, much less risk his life. "I understand," he muttered sulkily.

"Good," Anakin breathed. He flung Palo to the ground, then Force flung the door open, catapulting him out- right into Ms. Skywalker Junior. "Dad?" she gasped, stumbling to her feet. She rubbed her eyes, not believing the sight before her. "Daddy!"

Palo didn't stop to see her run into her father's arms in the joyful reunion, his only thoughts getting out of 500 Republica before more damage happened to mar any more of his own gorgeous body. He staggered to his feet, sprinting out the door, past a confused Jedi Skywalker Junior.

"Feel free to die on your own, though!" he heard the audacious Jedi call cheerfully.

Screw you, kriffing bantha fodder, he growled inwardly. Why couldn't Padme have married a sniveling, cowardly fool not superior to me in every kriffing way?

Drop me a review please :)