Author's Note: Hey all, hope you enjoy this next update! I'm sorry I don't have time for individual replies – real life is crazy at the moment. I hope to make up for it in the next chapter. Enjoy!

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APARTMENT OF DAKE AND KAHLA, NEXT MORNING

Sleepily, Siri peeled the outer layer from the fruit she was preparing to eat for her morning meal. She sent a puzzled look towards Obi-wan's closed door, shocked that he appeared still to be sleeping. She never managed to wake up before him, much to her aggravation. It was something she was going to have to tease him about mercilessly for the rest of the day.

Smiling to herself, she chewed thoughtfully and stretched her groaning muscles. Yesterday had been full of ups and downs - literally and figuratively. She could sense an argument was brewing and was glad when it finally erupted. Between the warnings she was getting from the Force and the tension between herself and Obi-wan, she just wanted to let off a little steam.

Still though, she was glad when Padme spoke up and put a quick end to it. The Senator may be small in stature, but she more than made up for it in courage and wisdom. She was a perfect balance to Anakin Skywalker, that much was clear. Without her, she had a sinking feeling that The Chosen One's path might not be as defined as it was now. She hoped it was a theory she never had an opportunity to prove.

Wiping her hands on a small towel, she carried the remains of her fruit to the kitchen and put it in the disposal. Artoo greeted her happily as he patrolled the suite, ensuring the security measures were working properly. Glancing up, she saw the time on the chronometer and realized they were going to be late for practice if they didn't hurry. She grabbed her iceblades and banged a fist on Obi-wan's door.

"Kenobi! Are you up? We're going to be late to practice and you know how Threepio gets when that happens!"

No answer. She tamped down the flare of worry that wanted to spiral through her stomach.

"You'd better be decent!" she called again, trying to keep her voice light. "Ready or not, here I come."

She palmed the main control and the door slid open quietly... revealing an empty room. In the middle of the neatly-made bed was a note, written in Obi-wan's flawless penmanship.

"My dear Kahla, I have already gone to the rink. Don't be late - you know how Threepio gets!" she read, crumpling up the note in her hand. Just then, the alarm chimed - she was late.

"Blast him!" she cried, racing out the door. Within seconds, she was hurrying down the stairs, her iceblades bouncing off the back of her cloak rather painfully. She skipped the last few stairs and landed on the main floor as gracefully as possible. Moving into a swift jog, she waved to Anakin and Padme as she passed their rink, heading for the one nestled behind it.

Sure enough, there was her partner, lazily skating figure eights around Threepio while they waited for her arrival. Tossing her cloak on the bench, she jammed her feet into the skates and rushed onto the ice, puposefully coming to a hard stop before the Jedi and blasting him with a shower of ice.

"Sorry I'm late. I thought I was waiting for someone," she said darkly.

Obi-wan looked up innocently as he brushed the ice chips from his legs. "Didn't you get my note?"

"Sure. But not until two minutes ago when I went looking for you."

"Oh, so you went into my bedroom?" he teased, grinning.

Shooting him a look, she didn't answer.

"Well, I'm sure it will make you feel better to know that I came here early for a good cause," Obi-wan promised. Then, with a flourish, he announced, "I've just given Threepio our music selection!"

"Oh no," she whined. "It's going to be that shrill, screaming stuff you like, isn't it?"

"No," he replied, frowning. "Besides, Holo-opera wouldn't go with this week's theme. It's much too dramatic."

"More like painful," she muttered.

Ignoring her statement, he gestured towards Threepio, who raised some sort of a hand-held remote. Punching in a code, the droid aimed it at the sound system and the lights began to blink on and off. Within seconds, a familiar beat filled the air.

Oh, for the love of-

"Remember this?" Obi-wan asked, delighted even as a flush began to spread across his cheeks.

"How could I forget?" Siri replied, her annoyance evaporating in an instant.

The bar was hot and Siri felt her jumpsuit begin to stick to her uncomfortably. Blasted undercover assignments. She could see that Obi-wan wasn't faring much better as he had just mopped his brow for the sixth time.

"I don't think he's coming," she whispered, her lips brushing his ear.

He didn't reply for a moment and they simply looked at each other, lost in thought. Finally, someone bumped into their table and the spell was broken.

"He's here," Obi-wan insisted. "He just hasn't presented me with my signal yet."

"Yes, but he also said he wouldn't come forward until he was sure we weren't Jedi," Siri pointed out. "Given that we're the only people in the entire bar who look decidedly uncomfortable, I'm pretty sure he's wondering about that."

"What else do you want me to do? Jedi don't dance," he sputtered, looking terrified.

"Well, perhaps tonight we shouldn't be Jedi," Siri said flatly. "You want to get this guy or not?"

At his nod, she stood up and pulled him into the teeming mass of bodies. Instantly, they were flattened against each other and Obi-wan circled his arms around her waist protectively. As they began to sway to the beat, Siri closed her eyes and sighed happily.

She could feel his breath on her neck, his soft hair on her cheek... The anticipation bolted through her body, the sensation electric. She never wanted this moment to end - for at last, they could just be Obi-wan and Siri. There was no guilt, no Code, no disapproving Masters looking on. Just the two of them.

Her voice husky, she pulled away and breathed, "Not bad."

"I suppose not," he replied, his eyes meeting hers hungrily. "Siri, I think we have a lot to discuss-"

"I know," she acknowledged, looking at the ground shyly.

Suddenly, he was wrenched away by a pair of beefy hands and she stumbled back, stifling a cry of surprise. A large man was pressing the voice amplifier into Obi-wan's hand and imploring him to lead the patrons in the last chorus of the pulsing song.

Realization dawned in Siri's eyes as she realized they had just met their contact. And Obi-wan was going to have to sing to verify his identity before he could obtain the necessary information. She was suddenly VERY glad she had offered to accompany her favorite Jedi...

"Oh, you were terrible," she chuckled, snapping back to the present. Her heart still pounded from the memory of their dance, of the promising conversation that never happened. No, Siri, don't go there. Not now.

"Was I that horrible?" he wondered, hurt. "I mean, everyone cheered."

"It was free wine night," Siri pointed out. "It didn't take much to impress the crowd."

"Have it your way," he sighed, his eyes twinkling. "Personally, I think I may have missed my calling."

As Siri laughed, Obi-wan took her hand in his own and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. In a quiet voice, he said, "I wanted to find a way to thank you for coming here with me and doing this ridiculous show - even if it means Anakin finding out his Master is a terrible singer."

"Kenobi, it's fine-" she began.

"I know, I know. You never back down from your duty, but this is above and beyond. You've always been so understanding."

Especially that night, when you needed me to be more understanding than I've ever been, she finished silently. Resolutely, she pushed those thoughts away. She would deal with them later, in the privacy of her own room. Where no one would see her reliving the day her heart shattered.

Finally, she replied, "What can I say - I'm a really great girl. It's about time you noticed what the rest of the Galaxy already knew!" As he shook his head in amusement, she changed the subject, "Are we ready?"

"Sure," he agreed. Turning to the golden droid, he continued, "I just hope Threepio can come up with something good enough to go along with our song."

"If it doesn't, we have to trade him in for TX-306," Siri added mischievously.

"That beastly droid?" Threepio cried. "Goodness gracious me!"

PRACTICE RINK B

Feeling the air whip through her hair, Padme kicked her feet out as she had been instructed, easily conquering the playful footwork. She sensed Anakin's approach and angled her body to the side, stretching her arms to reach for him. Their fingertips grazed each other, but the contact was not enough to gain a good hold. Flying past him, she flailed for a moment before she lost her balance and went sliding across the ice. TX-306 immediately began issuing error warnings, but out of habit, they tuned her out.

"Are you all right?" Anakin asked, hurrying towards her.

"Sure," she replied, standing up and immediately finding herself in her husband's warm embrace. Giving him a fierce squeeze, she leaned back and smiled broadly, letting him know she was telling the truth.

"Ready to try again?" he asked, brushing a stray curl from her cheek.

"Well, you know what they say: the thirteenth time's the charm."

"Current delay unacceptable, retry must commence immediately," TX-306 commanded, moving forward on her hoversled to ensure their attention.

"All right, all right," Anakin griped. "We're going."

Satisfied, the droid started towards the far end of the rink and Padme followed, mentally reviewing the first part of the routine. She got into position, prepared to start the quick skating segment at TX-306's signal.

It never came.

Anakin sighed in annoyance, "Blasted malfunctioning droid! Love, can you reset her system, please? There's a switch, right in the middle of her back."

Skating over, Padme reached around the tall droid, finally finding the button in question. Easily, she pulled it down and the droid jerked back to life, her eyes glowing brightly. However, instead of chiming to announce the start of the drill, a holovid began to play.

"Has he arrived?" Jarrick inquired, sitting comfortably in an overstuffed chair, a glass of wine in his hand.

"Yes, sir," a monotone voice replied. TX-306's, Padme realized.

"Wonderful," he mused. "I shall go to him."

"Not necessary, my friend. I have come to you first," a voice hissed. A hooded figure entered the picture, cleverly keeping his face hidden from the droid.

Jarrick immediately fell to his knees respectfully. "Master, it is good to see you again. I have been honing my skills in your absence, as you requested. I believe you will be most pleased."

"Good... Good," the figure commented gleefully. "Our time is drawing near. Soon, we will have unlimited power."

"And I will prove myself the true Chosen One." A look of utter evil flashed across Jarrick's face, just as the image blinked off.

Padme's eyes met Anakin's, his confusion mirroring hers. Just then, a wildly popular cantina song broke out, the deafening sound coming from Obi-wan and Siri's rink.

Shaking her head, she wondered, could this day get any stranger?