*

Chapter Ten - Unforeseen Emotions

Padmé entered the kitchen as Threepio and Obi-Wan were making lunch. She tapped her guardian's right shoulder from behind. He turned, didn't find her, then turned to his left just in time to see a slender hand pilfer three small kiri fruits from a bowl. Obi-Wan's eyes met Padmé's just as she popped one into her mouth and made a yummy noise.

"You can't wait another ten minutes?" the Jedi grouched. He already knew what the answer would be, and Obi-Wan turned his head away from her so she wouldn't see him smile.

Padmé swallowed the fruit. "If it was just me, well, that would be a different thing." Her empty hand meaningfully rubbed her huge belly.

Obi-Wan's eyes shaded into bright, amused blue. "You always say that."

"It just happens to be true," Padmé said airily. She assumed an overly-thoughtful face and added, "I need to start thinking of excuses to use after my younglings finally get here." She ate another kiri.

The Jedi laughed out loud. "Cheeky. That reminds me, have you decided on names for your younglings yet?" His friend was getting so big, Obi-Wan found he was wincing in sympathy every time he saw her.

"No. Tradition dictates that that subject not be discussed until the baby is born. I think it's because we shouldn't take it for granted that everything's going to work out fine." Padmé shook her head and sighed. "My father, mother, and husband have all died in the last year. Whether luck actually exists or not, I need all the help I can get." Obi-Wan reached around her shoulders and gave her a one-armed hug.

Not to be dissuaded from the most important subject, Padmé looked at the meal in progress. "I'm glad one of us is a good cook."

Obi-Wan smiled. "Qui-Gon was good at making a few things, but he did prefer it when I prepared the meals. Anakin wasn't much help around the kitchen at all."

A wicked smile crept across Padmé's face. "I wasn't talking about you," she sneered haughtily. The woman wrapped her arms around Threepio's shoulders and, standing on her tiptoes, lightly kissed his gold-plated cheek.

Obi-Wan was rendered speechless. The Jedi and the confused droid stood open-mouthed, watching their Lady half-dance, half-waddle out of the kitchen.

*

Padmé ran a hand over the book shelves in the parlor, then made an audible sound of disgust when she found dust on her fingertips. She started to pull books off of the shelf and stack them on the sofa. Hope I can finish before Obi-Wan gets back. I don't feel like resting today. Though it isn't resting so much as I'm being kept a prisoner in my own bedchamber, thanks to those three Jedi, she thought rebelliously. "Threepio," she called.

The tall droid entered. "Yes, Mistress Padmé?"

"Would you please find me a dusting cloth from the linen closet?" Threepio went to comply, and Padmé turned back to the bookcase. She chose a music disk and put it in the sound system. The speakers that were mounted in the corners of the parlor began to emit a series of old-fashioned love songs. Threepio returned with the cloth, and Padmé sang along to the music as she cleaned.

Obi-Wan came stomping in from outside, shaking the rain from his hair. Padmé ducked. "Yuck! Kenobi, that's what the entryway is for," she grouched.

"I took my boots off out there," Obi-Wan said by way of apology. He peered into the parlor and smiled. "Was that you I heard singing?" His tone of voice was teasing.

Padmé knew she couldn't carry a tune in a teacup, but she like to sing anyway, when she thought nobody else was listening. She tried to disguise her embarrassment by sneering, "And I suppose you could do better?"

The challenge in her voice pricked at Obi-Wan's pride. He padded over to the sound system, paused the music, then sang a verse of the first song from that disk. His voice was a rich, mellow tenor, and he sounded splendid as he sang the sprightly tune.

"I love you so, my darling, my lady,
All my life, my love will be true.
So lovely, so sweet, you're charming, my lady,
No one could be as marvelous as you."


Padmé's shoulders slumped. It was bad enough that he was good-looking and an intelligent, accomplished warrior. She felt like a shaak with a gland problem. "Well, then you're just perfect, aren't you, Master Kenobi?" she grumbled, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Obi-Wan looked confused. "M'Lady, I didn't say anything bad about your singing, and I'm not going to. And I am obviously not perfect, because if I was, you'd be more likely to follow my requests that you rest more."

"I can't live in a dirty house," Padmé protested. Obi-Wan looked at the pristine white walls and carpet, then exaggerated a confused look at her. "You don't understand, this place has to be clean."

"It is," he insisted. "The droids and I –" He broke off when Padmé held her hand up in a gesture of impatience.

She said, "No offense, but you just. Don't. Get it. Discussion over." She turned and bent down to pick up a book. Obi-Wan stood there for a moment, wondering what had just happened, then started to leave the chamber.

Clap.

The Jedi spun around, concerned. Padmé straightened, wincing, then said, "Wow." Her hands were pressed on her belly, her book forgotten.

"What is it?" he asked. Obi-Wan's eyes were huge, he was terrified. Was there something wrong with the twins? It could be a disaster if she went into labor now, it was too soon.

"Come here," she murmured. Obi-Wan complied warily. Padmé took one of his hands and placed it on her stomach. Feeling flustered, he pulled away, but she retrieved it and held it to her body. Under his fingertips, he felt something moving. Kenobi's intake of breath was audible and her hand pressed harder against his fingers. Delighted, he looked at Padmé's face. Her eyes were closed, but her grin matched his.

He knelt in front of her. Placing his other hand on her stomach, Obi-Wan stretched out with his mind. A tiny hand or foot had retracted from his prodding, but was now reaching out again. He sensed an innocent curiosity. He echoed Padmé from a moment ago: "Wow."

The touch drove home the fact of her condition in a way that even his visions had not. It was marvelous, that this woman's body was able to cradle and give life to these two tiny human beings that resided a few centimeters under Obi-Wan's hand.

"It is amazing, isn't it?" Padmé murmured.

An odd, tickling tension spiraled up from his stomach and made his heart beat faster. Obi-Wan looked up.

Their gazes met, and Padmé recognized the color of his eyes; they had been bright blue like this when he'd joked with her and Lula after his return from Myrkr.

Obi-Wan removed his hands from her person and stood. Several thoughts came to him – wonder at Padmé's strength, awe that such an incredible thing was even possible, envy – Envy? He looked at her face, eyes radiant with happiness. She was so beautiful, so amazing...

Without another thought, Obi-Wan cupped Padmé's face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. She made a small sound of surprise, but she didn't back away. Instead, Padmé reached out to pull him closer, and she parted his lips with her own.

Obi-Wan's touch was a little clumsy – he seemed to be unaccustomed to using his mouth this way recently – but also tender and sincere. He let out a relaxed sigh, savoring her taste and touch.

Existence consisted of the gentle prickling of his mustache on her upper lip, his work-roughened fingers skimming the line of her jaw, and the way her back arched under his other hand as her chin tilted up in acquiescence. Existence was bliss.

She pressed harder and he responded, the kiss becoming more demanding. Obi-Wan's arms circled her very pregnant abdomen while Padmé's arms made their way around his neck.

Artoo rolled past the parlor doorway, then backed up and stayed there. He uttered a quiet, wondering Ooooo.

The sound startled both Obi-Wan and Padmé. Their eyes opened and met, and they jerked apart, faces flaming.

Kenobi found his voice first. "I'm sorry. I, er, I mean..." He paused, gathering his thoughts. I know I'm going to say this wrong. Obi-Wan's next words came out in a rush, as though he was about to say something unpleasant. "You're beautiful, and what you're doing," he gestured to her belly, "is miraculous. And attractive." Padmé looked at him in disdain; she obviously thought he was lying. "It really is fascinating, Padmé. It's that women can do this, and men can't, it's just remarkable."

But that wasn't all of it. How could he explain how jealous of Anakin he'd been a moment ago? How he wished that he was a part of something so wonderful? And it wasn't physical intimacy that he'd been thinking of as much as it was being in a family. Belonging with someone.

But thinking of his apprentice only made Obi-Wan wince with sorrow and self-reproach. Trying to smooth things over, he added, "I'm sorry that it's me who gets to go through this with you, instead of Anakin. Sorry for you, I mean."

Oh, Chaos, why did he have to say that? Memories of her husband made Padmé quiver, this time with shame. She looked at the floor. "I know." Fighting tears, she added, "Um, me, too." Did I say that because that's what I should have said, or because it's true? She touched her lips with her fingers, wanting to kiss Obi-Wan again, trying to remember how Anakin had kissed her. She felt a little dizzy.

Obi-Wan felt like a clod. He had taken a wonderful moment and ruined it. I knew I'd say it wrong. But when did I ruin it? When I mentioned Anakin, or before that? Padmé's confused emotions swirled around him, a whirlpool that would drown him.

Obi-Wan left the parlor and thumped the door frame with his fist, cursing himself under his breath. Kenobi, you are lower than shavit. Kissing her, when you know that intimacy is one of the things she misses the most about Anakin's death. A moment later, however, he returned. "M'Lady. Padmé. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry."

She turned to face him, her cheeks wet. "I know," Padmé repeated. "It could be worse, though." Seeing the question on his face, she continued, "It would be worse if you weren't here, either." Padmé screwed up her face against a fresh wave of sorrow and turned her back on him, embarrassed.

Obi-Wan came up behind her and reached around her shoulders. She began to weep again, but she reached up and gripped his arms. "We both miss him. Don't ever be ashamed of honest emotion, Padmé," he murmured.

She turned around and cried into his tunic. Padmé kept her chin tucked down, but he had no intention of kissing her again anyway. Not when Anakin's spirit seemed to be standing behind his wife, glaring at Obi-Wan in reproach.

After a minute, she murmured, "Thank the Force Yoda sent you." Even though her words were sincere, and they stayed in the embrace for several minutes, the same thought was echoing over and over in their minds:

What do we do now?

*

Once Obi-Wan said good night that evening, he sat on his bed and hung his head. He was heartily ashamed of his actions today and the motives behind them. Even though it was not his intention, he had taken advantage of Padmé in a vulnerable moment. Worse, the Jedi Knight was rapidly becoming aware that he'd been separated from the Jedi for too long. Embracing his humanity was one thing, but developing affection for someone was another entirely.

Or perhaps it was that he realized that his errors with Anakin had stemmed from his detachment from the younger man, his stricter adherence to the Code once he had been knighted. Obi-Wan had never loved Anakin to the extent he had loved his own knight-master. It was safer, especially after Qui-Gon's death.

Was he letting the pendulum swing too far, in an effort to make it up to Anakin? This certainly was a bizarre way of doing so.

There is no passion, only peace. But the memory of Padmé's mouth under his was a powerful one, and an experience whose recurrence was appealing.

With regret, Obi-Wan searched the Force for guidance, looking for a way to be the friend that Padmé needed, and only her friend, while continuing to be a Jedi.

*

After Padmé retired to her bedchamber, she sat on her window seat and looked out at the night sky. She was afraid to go to sleep. Her dreams had become so intense since the beginning of her pregnancy. Losing Anakin barely five months ago was still horrible to contemplate, but today's events had made her realize that she was dependent on Obi-Wan for help and support.

And friendship. Obi-Wan Kenobi was very dear to her.

She hadn't been lying when she'd said she was grateful that he was here, but Padmé wanted her husband to lay his hands on her belly and feel his children moving. She wanted Anakin to be the one to rub her shoulders when she felt tense, the one to take her mind off the practice contractions that ached so much, and the one who would protect her from the attentions of the Emperor and his pet Sith.

*

Author's Notes: I'm so glad you're all enjoying this! Hooray!

Elu-Leen - Ch 7 - I've wondered how Obi could not consider Leia someone to count on, as well. *Shaking my head* Her strengths lie along a different path from Luke's, and even as a ghost, Obi-Wan was not all-knowing, I guess. I think Padmé was so shocked at seeing him in civvies that she didn't think to decide how he looked in them, even though his smile raised her temperature a few notches. Hee hee hee! Thanks for the compliments!

Elu-Leen - Ch 8 - No, Obi being a noble is just an idea I used for this story. Another (severely AU) tale I'm creating has Mara of Jinn as a Countess (who spent her youth in adventures calling herself Mara Jade), and if her great-uncle, Qui-Gon Jinn, hadn't been sent to the Jedi, her grandfather wouldn't have inherited the title (and therefore she wouldn't be Countess). George hasn't even said what planet Obi is from, much less anything about his heritage. He could be the illegitimate son of a peasant. Or the hereditary ruler of a planet, for all we know. About Obi wiping his hands on her sleeve, my honey has done silly things like that so many times...

I don't think Obi was as pious as a teenage padawan as he is as a thirtysomething knight-master. *Grinning*

Elu-Leen - Ch 9 - Thank you! It's taken about as long as a full-term pregnancy for me to get this story off the ground, and I'm glad you're enjoying it.

Solo7MBP - Much gratitude for reviewing. This is the first fic I've written since high school, over a decade ago, so I appreciate the compliment about my writing.

HGLuv - Yeah, I meant "Tired." It'd be nice if MS's grammar check went far enough to catch flubs like that. Well, as Obi said, "If droids could think, there'd be none of us left, would there?" I'm as hooked on reviews as you are on the story, so thank you very much!

Princess Kinky - Thank you, too, for the writing style compliment; wow! I worry about that. Jealousy, I'm sure, contributed to Ani's descent into the Dark Side, though I'm not sure of what facet of Obi he was jealous. Countin' the months until May of 2005, when Ep 3 comes out.