Author's notes: *pokes ff.n to make sure it doesn't break*  Well, hopefully this thing's stable ;) Again, I want to thank you guys for wading through all the ff.n problems to leave reviews!

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Part Nine (7/21/02)

I was up earlier than usual the next morning. Perhaps my sleeplessness was caused by the excitement of what this new day could bring. Perhaps it was because I had slept so late yesterday. My first thoughts regarded the former.

What would Maecenas do with Padmé? I think that question had haunted my dreams that night. I think it had crept into my wildest hopes and greatest nightmares.

The need to end this constant stress forced my body to wake. I gently stretched and watched Threepio begin his wake up program. I realized sheepishly that I had been ignoring him these past few days.

Sometimes Threepio was my only confidant. When I was younger, after leaving Tatooine and companions like Kitster behind, I had attempted to become friends with the new people that surrounded me. Maecenas wasn't an option, of course, and neither were the servant droids he kept about at all times.

That left those I raced with. None of them were human, but I tended to get along fine with other species. Since I was the only one forced into racing against my will, however, their tendency for harsh competition and my continuous winnings often put our relationships at the professional level at best and bitter, murderous rivals at worst.

So I was alone with Threepio.

"Good morning, Master Anakin," Threepio said pleasantly. "You didn't activate me when you came in last night." He sounded disappointed.

"Sorry, Threepio," I said, throwing on some clean clothes – or, rather, not dirty clothes. Maecenas, despite his wealth, wasn't one to spend it, especially on me. New garments and cleaning wasn't expensive by any means, but any way to save …

"Pretty late party last night; I was tired," I continued, looking over at the droid as I put my boots on. His prissy attitude never left him, no matter how much I upgraded his systems. A stable personality, even if it was annoying at times, was comforting.

"Did you have fun, Master?" Threepio asked.

I grunted, unsure of how to answer. The whole experience the prior evening had been unforgettable, life altering, and emotionally charged … but fun?

"I guess so," I admitted. "Something happened, Threepio." I stood straight in front of him, not quite ready to leave my bedroom.

"Oh?" I often wondered if Threepio actually cared about my ramblings, or if his etiquette programming acted on his behalf. I suppose it didn't really matter either way, but I think he wanted to know just as much as I wanted to tell.

"I met a girl," I began (oh, how often had I said that?). "Not just any bar girl, either. She's special."

Threepio looked at me, but was amazingly silent. Being his creator, though, I could nearly read his mind: Sometimes I just don't understand human behavior.

"She worked at the Governor's," I went on. "She was a slave there." At this point, Threepio tilted his head the other way. He was surprised - I had never talked specifically about other slaves, and the girls I had spoken of before were not unlike Blondie. "And she's ours now."

"Ours, Master Anakin?" Count on Threepio to see the flaws in my discussion.

"Well, Maecenas's," I admitted. "But she's here, in the loft, now."

My former guilt was still there, yet the excitement at the new situation had overwhelmed me this morning. Threepio also seemed pleased.

"Will I meet her, Master?"

"Yeah, hopefully," I nodded. "I better go see if she's all right first. You stay here."

I didn't give Threepio a chance to answer me, because I was heading out the door in mid-sentence.

I saw her door immediately - still closed, and, with any luck, she'd still be in there. I wanted to get to her before Maecenas did; her being here was my fault, and I had to do everything in my power to make sure she survived anything Maecenas could throw at her.

I knocked and felt my breath catch in my lungs as she opened the door. She was still beautiful - her radiance never complete faded - but she had large circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. The bruise was still there, too, and, fortunately, hadn't swelled in any way. She was still dressed in the cloak from the night before, probably to keep her body hidden from any male gazes.

"Hey, Padmé," I greeted, a small and respectful smile on my face. "Can I come in?"

She looked me over as if deciding how much of a threat I'd be now that the day had begun. Her face was tight in concentration and worry, which made me even more nervous.

She nodded, thankfully, and stepped back to let me through. The room was the same as I had left it, save for a few small creases in the still-made bed. Her small bag had been opened, and Padmé apparently was wearing something different under the cloak, as the metal bikini was thrown carelessly on a nearby chair. The dresser also contained a few items, perhaps personal mementos.

I was never one for pleasantries or lies, so I spoke on the topic at hand. "How did you sleep last night?" My voice showed my concern - she'd need all the strength she could get to face this household on a daily basis.

I turned to regard her. She moved away from the door and closed it. Maybe she knew to keep herself away from Maecenas's possible view.

"All right," she told me, her eyes boring into mine. "But new places make me uncomfortable."

I nodded, trying to think of something more to say. There was no weakness in her voice just then - it was like she was stating a universal fact rather than a personal flaw.

I turned to sneak another view at the discarded bronze outfit. While contemplating my next words, I reached out to touch the faded mental with my thumb.

What horrors has she seen wearing this thing? I initially wondered, but then forced myself away from such thoughts. She was staring at me, her eyes painfully aware of my mysterious behavior. I didn't what to worry her further, so I openly told her what I was thinking.

"This metal is pure," I said lamely. "Maecenas doesn't usually check for stuff like this. You could probably pawn it somewhere and keep the credits for yourself."

"He doesn't have any other slaves, does he?" she asked as she returned to the bed and sat down. She tried to appear relaxed, but I knew she must still be somewhat weary. Pleased with the chance to talk with her like this, I carelessly swept the revealing costume aside and took control of the now free chair.

"No, just me… and you now too, I guess," I admitted. "He doesn't want most people to know he owns slaves."

"Why?"

"I race pods," I reminded her. "That's what he wants me for. Unfortunately for him, slavery is illegal on many of the planets that race pods and in the pro-circuit, which is where the biggest winnings are."

"But, if no one knows …" she finished for me. I nodded, preparing to continue my story.

"It isn't in my best interest to tell the racing committee because Maecenas still owns me," I added. We sat in silence for a moment as she absorbed what I had said.

"Where did you come from?" she finally asked. "Where are your parents, your family?"

The question was so straightforward that it shocked me. My head slumped a bit, and I leaned further back into the chair. To be honest, nobody had ever asked me that before. Many of those that I talked to were only interested in my racing career or themselves, like Blondie and the Duchess had been. Although I wanted to know more about her than to speak of my life, it was only fair to share.

"I grew up on Tatooine," I started, my voice hazy as the memories flowed back. Many weren't painful, but I still missed … "My mother, Shmi, was a slave, too. I never knew my father. My previous master made me race pods, and Maecenas saw me one day. He gambled for me and won."

Her eyebrows knotted in sadness for me, and I wondered, not for the first time, if the separation from her loved ones had been even more painful than my own.

"What happened to your mother?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper in fear of what the possible answer could be.

"She didn't even stay long," I said proudly, happy that one thing had gone right in the galaxy. "A moisture farmer fell in love with her right after I left and freed her. They married, and I have a step-brother named Owen."

Padmé seemed pleased by this turn of events. She lay down on the bed to hear my story further. Propping her head on her hand, she smiled at me.

"Does she love him, too?" she questioned. Her eyes seemed dreamy now, as if caught in a fairy tale.

"Yes," I sighed. "They're wonderful people, the Lars family. Every racing season on Tatooine, they make Maecenas an offer to buy my freedom. Each year, it's higher, but he never accepts."

She smiled sadly at that last statement - possibly warmed by the love shown there and chilled by the cruelty of Maecenas at the same time.

"Do you ever get to spend time with your mother?"

"Sometimes, right before or after the racing season, Maecenas will let me visit them," I answered. "He must think it keeps me out of trouble." I shrugged, sinking deeper into my armchair.

"And does it?" she asked, a soft smirk appearing on her face.

"Well," I said, thinking; my brow knitted together. "Owen's a pretty boring guy." I stopped to allow a string of giggles to befall her. I marveled out heavenly her laugher sounded to my ears - so much different than the shrieks that came out of other girls.

"It sounds like you have a great family, Anakin," she admitted, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," I smiled to myself. I had never considered Owen and Cliegg part of my 'family' before, but the more I thought about Padmé's statement, the more I liked the idea. She was right, of course - I had often had daydreams about living on the farm with all of them, settled and at peace with my daily work. That, most likely, would never happen.

I pulled myself out of my pondering to meet eyes with Padmé. She had since returned to a sitting position on the bed - her face solemn, her eyes distant.

"What about you?" I said, my courage finally coming through. "What about your family?"

I immediately regretted asking this, because her face noticeably paled and her eyes became moist. Her story was obviously not as happy as mine was.

"I'm sorry," I whispered quickly, reaching up from the chair to offer comfort if she should need it. "I didn't mean to …"

"It's all right," she interrupted, pushing me away before I even had a chance to get near her. She got up from the bed as if to start pacing. I stood, unsure of what to do next.

"My family … my p-" she started, only to be cut off by the loud opening of the door.

Maecenas appeared in the frame, slightly hung over and looking as peeved as always. He was dressed in his daily business attire and was probably going to go to a meeting later.

"Morning," he hissed, undoubtedly not meaning it. He turned to Padmé, who had since stopped moving. I felt the all too common lump enter my throat as Padmé self-consciously wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders.

"Now," Maecenas continued, "what are we going to do with you?"