A/N: I went back to the previous chapter and (fixed the ton of typos at its first publishing) changed the difference between their floor and the Observation Deck from three to five. You'll see why.

Thanks for the reviews, I devour them greedily. ;)

Chapter 7. Cold Hands

"Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice."

- Robert Frost

Ani and I rode the lift up to the Observation Deck in silence, but thankfully, the air held distinctly less tension than by our camp. The small thrills of curiosity and exploration were having a positive influence, teaming up to dull down the aggravation on our respective pitchforks.

Although we did not have too many floors to traverse, the elevator stopped on each floor as we made our progress, each time adding a collection of new riders. Each time pushing us further back into the narrow box. Almost all passengers shared the same destination, as I gathered when almost none of the newcomers selected a different deck from our chosen one. Despite the growing number of occupants, my hopes for this course of action were rising right alongside our marginally increased elevation.

That is, until the door opened.

It seemed the Jendirian Valley only had one deck from which to leisurely obverse the exterior visuals of space. At that, the "deck" consisted more so of a single room— and not a very large one. Judging by the entrance line and its exit counterpart further down, as far as I could tell, the whole stage wasn't even half the size of my Coruscant apartment's receiving room. Just as the inflating population of our elevator foretold, Ani and I weren't the only ones who wanted a peek beyond the drab, durasteel walls of the freighter. The line for admittance into the paltry room stretched outside its entry doorway, wrapping snake-like down a hallway and ending far beyond my sight as we shuffled ourselves out of the lift. Whether because more travelers were unaccustomed with hyper-speed space flight than I'd anticipated, or they were just tired of sitting in Coruscant's holding bays for so long and space was a novelty to them again, the queue of would-be spectators stretched impossibly long and was moving with debilitating slowness.

Both my and Ani's faces dropped as we took in the truth. "It could be an hour before we're in the viewing room," I said softly, my disappointment plain. "And all for not more than a few seconds." I stretched up on my tippy toes. "I can't see the windows in the room from here, can you?" All this wait could be for a porthole-sized viewing box. This was hardly the reenactment I'd hoped for when I was reminiscencing over the Nubian royal starship experience. My question was going unanswered, so I looked up at Ani. His jaw was set in a firm line as he studied the situation with a clinical expression. Resigned, I continued, "We can try again after the stop on Alderaan when there's fewer passengers on board."

Ani shook his head, his chin taller than the heads of most species presently around us. He could stand in the back of the Observation "Room" and see just fine. "The ship's only going into hyperspace the first leg of the trip." I examined his face more closely. I hadn't brought up our time in the cockpit from when he was a child, yet he seemed to intuitively know it was the streaks of light I was after, not the slower passing of distinguishable systems. He made his voice just low enough for me to pick up. "There's too many people here. You're too exposed." Ani finally turned to me, an indiscernible look on his face. I peered back at him expectantly as I did my best to avoid being jostled by the flow of beings trying to take advantage of the newly arrived elevator. Slowly, ever so slowly, a smile I didn't trust spread across his face. "Come with me."

He was already springing into movement, using his broad shoulders to cut us a path back into the elevator box before the door could close. With impatient gusto, he tapped the button that would return us to our floor repeatedly, even as more passengers departing the Observation Deck flooded into the lift around us. As more came in, Ani left his post by the panel and came to stand by me. My rear was up against the wall, and his toes stopped mere inches in front of mine as he faced me, effectively using his expansive back to casually block my face from the sight of most other passengers. His delicious scent made its way into my nostrils once again, and although I met his eyes briefly, timidly smiling and nodding once to indicate I knew what he was doing, my heart slammed into my rib cage at his sudden nearness.

I overheard many of the riders, mostly parents, confirming my suspicions as they grumbled about the long wait and poor view.

"Well, what could we expect?" one of them asked their partner. "It's a freighter, not a luxury cruise."

"Shame they label it the Observation Deck, though. Oftly misleading."

We only had five floors to descend to return to our own, but the lift stopped on each again as it dropped. A handful of passengers disembarked with each opening of the door. On the very first stop, the crowd was too tightly packed to make for a blithe exit for a trio in the back. As they moved forward with impolite impatience, the two passengers behind Anakin lost their vertical footing and accidentally placed their weight into him while they compensated. Sturdy as he was, Anakin was suddenly shuffling and leaning far into me, and my nose and lips brushed against the fabric of his tunic before he adjusted himself.

That alone would have been enough to faze me, but what truly had me working to normalize my breath was the way he had to reach out and grab my waist before righting himself. The maneuver was brief and appeared innocently instinctual to maintain his balance— and it kept me from falling over in a continued domino effect— but my senses skyrocketed into awareness at abruptly being enveloped on all sides by Anakin's essence.

Even after that, despite the gradual thinning of the group behind us with each progressive stop, Anakin never so much as swayed away from me. With the wall behind me, his chest and well-favored face took up most of my field of vision. His hands remained off my hips, but suddenly the Master of Balance's eyes openly scanned mine while we moved closer to our drop off. I felt cornered, but not intimidated by the proximity. In fact— in a first— I actually held his gaze as steadfastly as he offered his. Instead of being caught and embarrassed as he should've been, Anakin only continued to eye me beseechingly, as if the return of his stare was the goal all along. I should have had accusation in my eyes to reprimand him. He lost the excuse for his inappropriate closeness with the growing trimming of the cart's herd. But while I know my gaze held defiance, I'd be lying if I said there was any part of me displaying retreat. Who knows what other riders watching us in our pocket of the cart thought as Anakin matched the determination of my stare silently. Our eyes did battle as his warm breath fanned across my cheeks.

When the signal chimed that we'd reached our floor, it was Anakin who broke the stormy eye contact first. My breath hitched as he moved to put a hand to the small of my back and, when it was time, he guided me out the door. He knew as well as I that I was perfectly capable of exiting the elevator on my own, but I neither verbally objected to nor physically shied away from his touch. My behavior thrilled me just as much as it petrified me. My already fraught nerves wouldn't allow me to dare ponder what he must have been thinking of it.

His energy at our sudden departure upstairs and the impatient way he'd pressed the panel button made me think he'd had some thing of an idea, so I was a little shocked to see him smoothly coast in the direction of our makeshift base. Artoo, who'd been directed to stay with the luggage, beeped a hello at us upon our return. Anakin walked straight up to him, placing a hand on top of the dome in what I took to be a greeting. Then he seemed to hesitate. Turning over his shoulder to look at me, Ani questioned, "Mind if I recruit Artoo?"

A flash of motherly protectiveness went through me. "Recruit him into what?"

The first answer given to me was another wide, dangerous smile.

"I do not like this. I don't."

I was met with yet another exasperated sigh. "So you've said, milady. Five times."

Matching my mood, my arms were crossed over my chest in an air of censure. Even though it was hidden by my wide hem, my right toe fervently tapped along with my disapproval, making a resulting sound I happily knew my companions could hear. "This is reckless, Anakin."

A whistle— not from R2-D2, but the human kind. "Boy, if I had a coin for every time I've heard Obi-Wan say that."

"Are you almost done?"

"Almost."

We were standing by a wall on our original deck, only this time, I was the one using my own body as the shield barrier between Anakin and the eyes of the passersby. Artoo had an arm plugged into a low wall outlet, the kind that gave him uninhibited access to the mainframe of the Jendirian Valley. The ship's systems weren't designed for security on a level that could stop my beyond capable, top-of-the-line astro mech— it was an elementary exercise for him. That didn't mean I condoned it.

Anakin had spotted the appropriate outlet, and my job was to hide the over six foot tall, albeit currently crouching, young man and the rotund droid as they stole whatever information my Jedi guardian was after. Unlike Anakin's pose on the elevator, I stood facing away from him, nervously scanning the faces of beings as they walked by.

"We're going to be seen."

"We're going to be heard first if you don't stop that tapping."

My foot stilled.

"There!" Anakin's joyous exclamation had me spinning to see what all this espionage had been for. Right before Artoo retracted his arm from the wall, my eyes absorbed a blue holographic image that could only be deemed to be the schematics of a ship. Our ship.

"A map?"

Anakin was rising to his feet and brushing his thighs with his antsy hands. He only bestowed me with a quick, excited nod before he turned his attention back to the droid. "Artoo, open that elevator door in…" His voice trailed as he stood high on his toes, straining his neck to see as far down to our right as possible. "Seventy-five seconds. Then go back to the camp and watch over the suitcases. Make sure nobody steals any of the thousands of Padmé's shoes."

I scoffed with indignation, but my lips parted with a grin. "It's not just shoes in there, thank you."

Anakin lifted a shoulder playfully, a familiar lightness to him which I hadn't yet witnessed on our voyage. "Tell that to my arms."

I was about to make a comment about the obvious capabilities of his arm muscles when I thought better of it. Some sentences even the most well-polished senator couldn't convincingly say whilst trying to sound non-appreciative.

Anakin tilted his head and encouraged me to follow him in the direction of the previously unknown elevator. At a much slower speed than I expected him to move to, he led us towards it without actually making a direct line for it. He expertly weaved his way in between the foot traffic we came across, and I followed closely behind at his heels.

Despite our zig-zagged path, I was surprised to see how swiftly Anakin delivered us to the elevator. So closely was I trailing him that I almost ran into his back when he came to a sudden stop before the door. As I inspected it, I realized how even less ornate it was compared to the already uninspiring look of the regular lifts. A small sign posted next to the closed door with a minimalistic but clear illustration clicked my understanding into place.

"Anakin, this is a maintenance elevator."

"Yup."

"Why are we standing in front of a maintenance elevator?"

"What's the matter? Don't like surprises?"

"I imagine the crew doesn't like trespassers." I stepped closer to him and brought my voice down to an urgent whisper. "I have no senatorial strings I can pull here. I'm a refugee same as anyone else, remember?"

"Relax, Padmé," Anakin breathed, but he was looking to his left in the direction of where Artoo was instructed to still be with a frown on his face. "I'm here to get you out of trouble, not to get you into it."

"I have a bad feeling about this."

Anakin rolled his eyes at me. "Now you really sound like Obi-Wan." However, he stole what must've been his third look over his shoulder.

"It's been more than seventy-five seconds," I countered, although I was only hazarding a loose guess on the time. "Artoo should've opened the door by now. I don't like this, Anakin. I'm going back. I didn't abandon Dormé and Captain Typho just to get caught sneaking into places we're not supposed—"

I was just turning on my heel to make good on my threat when the door to the maintenance elevator lifted open. Before I could move another inch in the opposite direction, Anakin took a firm hold of my hand and grinned.

"Follow me."

He didn't give me much choice as his secure grip pulled me along. Thrown by feeling my hand enveloped by his warm one— a hand so much more adult than the last time I'd held it ten years ago— I forgot all rhyme or reason to protest. I shuffled into the tiny chamber after him, swinging in behind as he extended a long arm to hit a gray button on the panel. He steadied us as we slinked into the back left corner of the box, covertly hiding from as many eyes as possible until the door closed again.

When it did, the already tight space immediately became even more tangibly compact and private. This lift was darker than the public elevators. Even as the hum of the mechanisms working to propel the box into motion moved into our ears, I could hear Anakin's jittery breath caress through my cowl. I moved away from him in order to reestablish equilibrium, but he resisted my moving too far by not letting go of my hand.

"Anakin," I breathed, a warning as much as a plea.

Heeding my tone, he released me.

I stood against the opposite wall from him, my hands supporting me behind my back. "How did you know the elevator cart would be available when you told Artoo to open the door in exactly seventy-five seconds?"

He threw me that already classic grin. "I didn't. I guess Artoo had the sense of mind to send it our way before he opened the door."

I fixed him with a vexed look, one probably not too unlike what I'd witnessed Raloma serve to her independent little boy. "Do you know where we're going?"

"Of course," his confidence was unflappable. "I memorized the map. I've got it all in here," he tapped the side of his forehead with his index finger.

"Do I get to know?"

"Mmm," he shook his head, and even the dim lighting couldn't hide the blaze of his youthful smile. "No way. If this plan fails, you won't have to suffer disappointment of knowing what you missed out on. If it works, well, the surprise will be all the sweeter."

Sweet is not how I would have described the current trekking Ani and I were making through the Jendirian Valley. We'd been navigating maintenance hallways since stepping off the elevator, each one more industrial than the last. He used his Jedi abilities to keep us away from living members of the crew, sensing when they were close and hiding us just in time. He'd smoothly step to the side like it was a dance to hide in one crevice or another, tugging me along with him by the arm. Throughout all this walking, Ani kept his palm unnaturally open and slightly extended in my direction for a little while, but when I continuously didn't take it, it eventually relaxed by his side.

Droids were harder for him to sense, but mercifully we only came across two or three. The one that— coincidentally enough, I'm sure— he didn't hide us from in time was a culinary droid carrying a pallet of food towards one of the seven cafeterias. It didn't seem to care when its golden eyes took the sight of us in. Its mechanical arms carried a load of some kind of fresh bread, and I had to be the one tugging Anakin away to resume our travel.

He'd stopped entertaining my questions with anything more than a smile, so I'd given up asking or contesting this escapade. Once Anakin Skywalker had his mind set on an idea, there was no talking him out of it— especially if he thought it was truly brilliant, which he clearly did. At any rate, I was signed on to this adventure for better or worse. We were long past the point where if I turned and ventured back on my own I'd be able to make my way to our floor successfully. I quickly figured the only thing worse than getting caught with Anakin by a member of the crew was getting caught without him.

Secretly, my superficial irritation at the rule breaking and the mystery masked my growing exhilaration at our activity. The anonymity of my disguise was already starting to have an effect before we'd even tried reaching the Observation Deck/room. It was an enlivening breath of fresh air. Whether as a queen or a well-known senator, feeling spectators' eyes on me was a way of life. As a more private person than one might suspect, I'd never truly gotten used to such examination, however benign it was. The level of obscurity brought on by the current disguise as a refugee was more than I'd ever even enjoyed dressed as a handmaiden.

The pleasure of escaping into this anonymity, paired with the unknown of wherever Anakin was taking us, was only added to by the adrenaline pumping risk of discovery. Even if I did know the way back, and felt I could cross it, I didn't want to go. I wanted to follow him. I'd confidently wager that he knew this, which is why even at my earliest protests, he only grinned back at me with a look that conveyed he saw through my thin facade.

Anakin was always exceptionally good at reading me. He innately suspected that I lived in a cold but familiar world of rules, propriety, and clean behavior. It was a realm the Jedi encouraged their wayward son to buy into ceaselessly. He knew, though. Even then, he knew I wanted to see more of his world, more of the spontaneous-and-fast, rather than the trusted-and-numb.

I barely noticed to stop in time when Anakin's feet suddenly halted in front of me. I peered around his shoulder at what was obstructing our path.

"Was this on the map?"

"Ah. Sure," Anakin replied, his head tilting as he took in the tangled mess of pipes ahead of us with a frown. "But it looked a lot less… intimidating than this."

At his tone, I came round to step in front of him fully, coming to a stop between him and the field of floor-to-ceiling, intricate piping. "Do you still remember Artoo's map of the ship?"

"Mostly."

"Are we lost?" He didn't answer, but he at least knew better than to give me yet another smile. "Are we lost? Did you get us lost in the bowels of the ship?"

"First of all, we're not lost. Not entirely. Second of all, we're not in the bowels. Where's your sense of direction? Third, what kind of husband would I be if I didn't provide you some excitement on your honeymoon?"

"Anakin."

"I have this under control." He stepped around me to move closer to the largest pipe near us.

I tried to remember the last time I'd seen a sentient creature. "We'll be skeletons before they find us."

"Relax, Padmé," he put his palm on the white shell of the tube and closed his eyes, "or at least, quiet for just a moment, please." He became very still, as if attentively listening to whatever message the pipe was sending him.

Ignoring his request, I frowned and confusedly asked, "Are you… Are you using the Force?" On a pipe?

He smiled, but he didn't open his eyes. After one or two more seconds, satisfied blue pools met mine again. "Nope. That's good old-fashioned tactics right there. Give me your hand."

"Why?"

"I promise, I'll give it back."

Not completely believing his words, I extended my hand out to him. Electricity of our own making jolted through me so viscerally at his touch that I almost hesitated to make contact with the metal pipe.

Whether he felt the current between us our no, Ani splayed my open hand against the wide duct. His palm pressed mine into the curved surface, warmly molding itself around my much smaller knuckles and fingers. I was thankful for the pressure— it hid the shaking I was urgently hoping to hide.

"Feel that?" Although we were still alone, Anakin spoke the words barely above the volume of a whisper. At first, all I could feel was his own heartbeat pulsating through his skin around the back of my hand. Despite his composed behavior, its rapid rhythm matched my own. Gradually, as I mentally made myself move past such sensation, I felt the hum in the steel beneath my palm.

"It's vibrating," I answered, my voice the same level of quiet as his. A vibrating pipe on an active spaceship was not revolutionary— I had no clear reason to feel any sense of awe. But, perhaps, although only Anakin knew the details of our undertaking, his anticipation at what this meant radiated through his being and into mine.

Anakin smiled at my words and tone. "We're getting close." He dropped his hand, and mine followed a beat after. "Follow me."

His command repeated from before, he turned with just as much excitement and heart as he began to progress forward. It was only when I noticed my hand was now hovering low in the empty air, ungrabbed, did realize I'd instinctively extended it out towards his with expectation. His back was to me, so he thankfully didn't see the motion, nor my quick recovery as I retrieved my hand back to my side.

"Mind your head," Anakin warned, as he ventured into the collage of piping like an explorer entering into a maze of jungle vines. There was indeed a path through the collection, but it was narrow, and it involved many tight lifts of the foot or ducking of the head to avert misfortune.

Given my height, it should've been easier for me to navigate the metal forest than it was for Anakin, but my dress and wide headpiece made for a graceless travel uniform. The dress itself, cone shaped as it was, bent enough to my efforts as I did my best to keep up with Anakin's nuanced legs. But the headpiece…

"You're going to draw the whole ship with all that noise, Padmé," Anakin joked as he looked back at me, half-serious. "My brain is rattling just listening to yours."

I was ducking and twisting as much as I could, trusting in Anakin's promise that "it" wasn't much further, but the clank and bang of my metal adornment sent ever more annoying shock waves in between my ears. It was like being caught in a drum. Finally, at his tease, I resorted to the simplest option— I took it off.

With a final huff, I removed the sundial Dormé had placed like a crown from my head. Instantly, my neck cheered in relief at the loss of weight, not that the item weighed more than one of the shoes Ani was so scared of. I pulled the top of my cowl down from my forehead and back, letting my chestnut hair breathe in delicious respite in the ship's recycled air. It was braided from the neck down and remained settled in a dipped pool of fabric created where my cowl tucked into my dress at the back, but the coils around my actual head and ears reveled in their freedom. I wiped a slight sheen of sweat from my brow.

At the sound of my stopped walk and happy sigh, Anakin turned around to investigate. His eyes looked over my hair, my smile, and the new levity to my demeanor. "That's the spirit," he jested, though his eyes had more than a little streak of that intense reverence.

"Oh!" I suddenly realized, reflexively putting a hand to the hair just behind my ear, as if grabbing at a phantom hat. "I never put Dormé's veil back on after we left the apartment."

"You're right. Don't worry," Anakin nodded, still watching me intently. "We'll reattach when we get back to the luggage. Later is still better than never."

There was no point in fretting about it now, and I seemed to have avoided recognition on the ship so far. I held my headpiece in my hand as we continued forward. It still clanked on the pipes as it swung with my grip, but at least the sound didn't reverberate between my ears like before.

Anakin's promise that we were close became actuality when we left the pipe jungle behind and emerged to find ourselves in a moderately-sized room. On the opposite side was a door with large words printed in a language I didn't understand just above it. If I had to guess, I'd say they reiterated a familiar theme I'd seen on many a sign since the start of our saga beyond the maintenance elevator— 'AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY'.

On the wall to our left was a very conveniently located door. I eyed Anakin.

"Yeah," he muttered, finally bashful. "That might've been the way I intended us to come before I got us—" My eyebrow arched at his pause, but his went higher as he smiled and finished, "Mis-directed."

I gestured at him with a subtle lift of my headpiece. The humming vibration only hinted at in the pipes was now obvious to the ear from where we stood. "Am I going to need this on the other side of that door?" I pointed in the direction of the archway with the warning sign above it. If the door he just referenced was the alternative way, this door must be the intended final destination.

Anakin shook his head, mirth in his eyes. "I'll protect you from any flyaway combs and hairbrushes, milady." I laughed. Then I tried not to notice how openly he watched me tuck a hair behind my ear.

Anakin Skywalker was a man who usually only had either the greatest or the worst luck in the world, and few instances of the in between. The former graced us with its presence as we found the door we wanted to open magnanimously unlocked.

As the door flew open above us, my breath caught, and I saw a sight unlike any I'd seen before.

On the other side of the doorway was what looked like a final extension of the engineering wing of the ship, which I'd realized we'd found ourselves in by the era of the pipes. While there were different controls on a small desk in the center of the room, the attention of the space was given to a gigantically wide and tall window parallel to the door. On an equal plane with them, we were in the middle between two of the Jendirian Valley's three engines. However, the transparent wall opposite us gave a clear view not just of the blue tails of the thrusters, but of the streaks of hyperspace trailing behind us as we hurtled through the stars.

"Anakin," I breathed. "How…?"

He stepped back as I voyaged into the room first. Automatic lights brightened the space at my entrance, but Anakin's swift fingers found the inner panel on the wall and disabled them entirely. The only light now came through the floor-to-ceiling window, bathing us in the afterglow from outside. I placed my headpiece on the desk and walked forward.

I'd seen the effects of hyperspace travel before, but never like this. I'd looked out from the front of cockpits and from the side of ships, but rarely had I seen the view from the tail end of a ship, and never with two massive engines book-ending my view on either side. I'd come up with this whole plan to return to a cherish memory shared with Ani, but now I found myself the bewildered one as he administrated an entirely new one.

Well, perhaps I wasn't the only bewildered viewer. As much as I gathered that he'd hoped for something like this, I could tell by the enthralled expression on Anakin's face that his expectations had far been exceeded. His mouth was parted as he took in the rapidly flowing visuals, the halos dancing across his face like blue lightening.

"How did you know this would be here?"

His gaze dropped from the stretched stars as he met my eyes. A soft smile graced his features, as if he were suddenly shy right at the time when he should be enjoying his victory lap.

"I didn't know for sure until I saw Artoo's map. Engineers of a certain breed…" his eyes glazed over as they looked out the magnificent window again. "Anyone can read the status of an engine's performance by reading output numbers and looking at real-time 4D models on the bridge. But there's something about seeing the hue of the exhaust with the naked eye…" He walked closer to the glass. "It can either tell you everything's fine, be the warning call before the storm, or tell you how to fix what's wrong. Botajef Shipyards appreciate such raw, first-hand visual inspection. I knew their craftsman usually build at least one room on board— for the crew— so that a Master Engineer can get an in-person visual read of the engines, even mid-flight."

I was impressed by his knowledge and swept up in the way he shared it. His voice was respectful, impassioned, like he was reading to me from a deeply personal religious text. Was there ever man who loved flying as much as Anakin Skywalker? Walking up to join him, I followed his student's eye out the window. "But, as close as we are, all we can see from here is the residual glow from the engines, no?"

Anakin kept his focus on the faint balloon of blue exhaust on his left. "We're looking at it with human eyes." For the first time, his tone became remorseful, and I almost regretted asking my question. "Humans can only see so many shades of color. Almost all Master Engineers belong to species that can see in hundreds of millions of shades. Billions. They can tell if something's wrong with a hyperdrive's output just by looking at what's in front of us. They'll see the changes long before even the most sensitive computer will pick it up." His eyes squinted, as if trying to see past the human limitations of his sight and read the hue of the cobalt light beyond, just like the Master Engineers he spoke of with such ethereal esteem.

I raised both of my palms and pressed them upon the glass. My body had warmed during our hike here, compounded by the thickness of my dress and the confining wrap of my cowl. The frigidness of the glass immediately worked as a refreshing cooler. Despite this relief, and knowing the science of space temperature, I whispered, "I don't know why, I always expect it to be warm."

We stood there for several moments in comfortable silence, Anakin's eyes trying to be more than human while I tapered my excess body heat by letting the glass pane steal it from me. Space hurtled around us, but we were tranquil islanders on our own little world. I cannot explain why the thought popped into my head, I simply suddenly announced, as if he'd asked, "I met the woman with purple hair."

In my peripheral vision, I saw him turn to me. He looked at me for a long moment, but I kept my eyes on the streaks silently roaring past between the open gaps in my splayed fingers. "Why is she so interested in us?"

A small, ironic part of me internally smiled. Who wouldn't be interested in the pair who are awkward avoiders with each other one moment and gazing heatedly at each other in grandstanding the next?

Outwardly, I merely replied with the sad truth. "You remind her of her fiance. She lost him when they were fleeing their home world, Vantrilla."

"Oh," Anakin responded, picking up on the extent of my meaning. I didn't know if he'd heard about what had happened to the planet, but the extent of the woman's tragedy had nevertheless become evident. He paused, and then asked, an awkward cadence to his tone, "Did you leave anyone behind? When we left for Naboo?"

His question surprised me. "You know I did. Dormé, Captain Typho, Jar Jar—"

"No, I meant…" He shook his head, like he was retreating from something. "Nevermind." There was a long pause. "She must have loved him very much."

For the first time in a few minutes, I looked up at him. "You said you could feel her pain?"

He nodded solemnly. "Yes, but not like it's my own. It doesn't quite work like that, especially with strangers. It's very second-hand. I don't absorb it. I don't feel it." His head tilted from side to side as he worked through his words, his hands coming to a clasp behind his back. I liked watching his Padawan braid sway just off his shoulder as his disorganized thoughts shifted his very brain back and forth. "But I can feel it like it's my own when I'm close to the person. Emotionally close."

"Like Obi-Wan?"

He nodded.

I hesitated for a moment, and then queried, "Do you wish you were out there with him? Investigating?"

Anakin looked at me for a moment before stretching his vision back out over the galaxy we were speeding away from. Somewhere out there was Coruscant. Was Obi-Wan still on it? Did his promising lead with the dart follow through? Was he already off-world, tracking down more leads, potentially putting himself in danger, but this time without his sidekick apprentice there to help?

The Padawan let out a weighted sigh. "Being separated from him is not as much of a break as I expected it to be." His eyes continued to scan the streaming stars, as if he could spot a secret message from his master in their bent constellations. "I worry about him." A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. "As much as he claims I'm the one who gets us into trouble, I learned a lot of that from him. But I'm always there to help him get out of it, together." His expression tensed, and the unsaid words floated in the air like pinpricks. He would not be there to help Obi-Wan if he got himself into trouble this time.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," I comforted. After a shiver went through me, I peeled my hands back from the glass. I'd left them on for too long— they were icy cold now.

I started to rub them together in a vain attempt to heat them. Suddenly they were enclosed by two much larger, much warmer hands. As I knew I would, I looked up to find Anakin standing very close to me, his white tunic chest less than a forearm's reach from my own.

"Anakin," I began to warn, that same plea mixing into my cautious pitch.

"Shhh," he soothed, gently. Like I was a woman he could dotingly placate, not a senator who ought to discipline him for his audacity. He rolled my fingers between his. Slowly, intimately. "I can't let you get sick, now can I?"

Despite my best efforts, I leaked a smile. My heartbeat was quickening again at his touch, and I'd need my hands back before he detected the soon-to-be racing pulse. "I think the basics of my immune system are beyond your reach of protection."

In contrast to my light tone, my mouth was going dry, and my body temperature was on the rise again. We were alone— Gods only knew how far away from another living being on the ship— in a dark, hyperspace-lit room, fresh off a vigilante hunt, in a setting that could easily be described as romantic. I was losing my grip on self-discipline with every rhythmic caress of his fingers. Warning bells were going off inside my head with growing panic.

But, try as I might to muster the want, I could not make myself pull my hands out of his.

"So small," Anakin whispered, cupping my palms in his own. I wanted to bury myself in the warm sea of his hold.

Instead, I cleared my throat. The sound seemed obtrusive in the otherwise hushed room— the humming of the engines was perceptible, but barely above the sound of a breath behind the concentrated glass. I myself don't know if I was being more humorous or insubordinate as I stated, "Those hands may be small, but they've done a lot of work."

His gaze rose from the warming tumbling he was doing with my digits and with my heart, and his eyes met mine. A nervous smile tugged his lips up before it disappeared. Why did it disappear?

"I know. That's why the Republic needs you alive. You can do more with these beautiful hands than I could ever do with a swing of my lightsaber. I can help stop a conflict, but you can prevent one from happening before it even starts." Blue eyes trailed a path across my face, leaving a trail of scorching heat in their wake. "You have to be careful with your power, Padmé. You have more than you know."

"You speak as if you're very dedicated to the government."

"I'd give my life for it."

It didn't feel a bit like we were talking about his dedication to a governmental system. Anakin was staring at me in that way he had in my Coruscant bedroom, only now the open heat of his gaze mingled with even more unmasked expectation. He'd taken a step closer, and now my still too-willing hands were being nestled against his chest. Gods forgive me, he licked his bottom lip, and I watched him do it. The intensity of the moment reached a fever pitch, and I felt a vibration within me that had nothing to do with the ship. I yanked my hands from his grasp and took a step back, refusing to meet his eye.

"I'd like to go back to our camp now. I want to check on Artoo."

Artoo was perfectly capable of handling himself. But I needed to get out of that room.

Anakin watched me step away from him, each retreating inch formulating like a deeper dagger behind his eyes. I watched him warily. Dawning awareness reminded me I needed him to get back, and I suddenly became fearful that my guide might not let me leave.

He seemed to weigh that very power for just a moment. Then Anakin nodded, the shy gentleman once again. I let out a shaky breath as he led us from the room, barely remembering to pick up my headpiece on the way out. I pulled my cowl up above my hair and placed the crown back on my head like it was battle armor.

I'd begun this whole affair by wanting to reestablish a friendly rapport. I'd yearned to bridge an emotional connection to the memory I shared with the boy. Now, as we avoided the pipes completely this time, I was walking back through the maintenance corridors with the man who'd created an entirely new memory with me. It was an exchange as full of the handholding as the former recollection as it was devoid of its childhood innocence.

I had not steered us safely further away from the precipice. I'd drawn us closer to its edge.