A/N: I'm updating super quick because I'm going away for a bit and won't have an opportunity to write or update, and I don't want to keep you hanging! (I'm so considerate, aren't I?)

Behold, jealous!Padme. The main reason I'm writing this story is to convey Padme's deep feelings for Anakin, because the prequels were such a let down in that department. George, I'm sorry, but you didn't do a good job of convincing me that she loved him. Sure, she told him that, but she never really showed it. Not until the end of ROTS. That kind of 'tell-not-show' style of directing really irked me. (sorry, I'll stop ranting now).

Anyway, my point, is that I think Padme deserves to get jealous every once in a while. Deserves to lose her cool and go a little crazy. As you know, I like writing angst and intense scenes, and I actually really enjoyed writing this. I also love writing A/P dialogue, and I think it's cute that Anakin wants to do 'coupley things' with Padme.

I'm also trying to express how much the distance is affecting them... especially Padme.

Side note: Yes, I'm introducing some of the Jedi and Clones in this story. Meet Aayla Securra everyone.

Enjoy xx

"Why do you even want me to go this party, anyway?" Padme asked over the sound of running water while she washed her hair. Not that she was bothered – actually, she was a little annoyed because she hadn't packed anything to wear that was appropriate for a college party – but she didn't understand Anakin's motivation. Normally, when they visited each other, they spent all of their time together, making love, watching movies, ordering pizza, making love. It was a routine for them; a routine Padme enjoyed. All she wanted to do was spend time with him and him alone. Padme wanted Anakin all to herself. And now, at a party, he would be socialising with other people, his friends, and she would have to share. She didn't like that.

"I want you to meet my friends," he told her as he shaved at the sink. Padme had never understood why, he had such little facial hair as it was, but she couldn't complain. It left his skin smooth and she liked the feel of that underneath her fingers, her lips. "They're convinced you don't exist."

Laughing, Padme pulled back the shower curtain and stepped down, ruffling her hair with a towel. The sight before her made her pause, however, as she took in Anakin's delightfully naked skin with only a pair of loose fitting boxer shorts slung low around hips. His belly was pressed up against the sink, face narrowed in concentration as he dragged his razer along the sharp contours of his jaw, and even though his face was covered in shaving cream, she felt herself blush at the sight of him.

Without tearing his eyes away from the mirror, he grinned, "you're a perv."

She wet her lips subconsciously, squeezing out the bottom of her hair with the towel. "I don't really have a choice," she informed him, a mischievous lilt in her voice. Before she'd met him, she'd never dreamed she'd be so flirtatious and lusty and wanton. Anakin was addictive and she just couldn't help herself.

His eyes widened when he finally looked at her, face half-covered in cream, as he drank in the sight of her, naked before him and she saw the lust pooling in them, making her thighs tremble with anticipation. She knew what would happen next; he would growl, low in his throat, pin her against the wall so she couldn't move, and then he would devour her and she would be helpless against him, succumbing to his dominating mouth as he brought her pleasure yet again. It happened every time.

This time, however, something was different. His expression hardened somewhat, into firm defiance. "It's not going to work," he told her, smugly, cocking an eyebrow.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"You're trying to seduce me," he shook his head, laughing in astonishment. "So that I get distracted and we don't go."

She frowned, "no, no that's not what I – "

"Why don't you want to go, Padme?" he interrupted, crossing his arms. "If you don't want to meet my friends, you could just say so."

Sighing, she wrapped the towel around her body and reached for her hairbrush, amidst the mess of Anakin's bathroom. Honestly, he was so messy. Every time she came to visit, he would have clothes strewn all over his bed, which was never made, shoes lying around haphazardly which presented a safety risk, especially when she wanted to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. And his bathroom was just as bad. She felt entirely sorry for his roommate. "It's not that, Ani," she said. "It's just…" she looked up at him, "I haven't seen you in a month. And I know – I know we've both been busy, with mid-terms and everything, but I – I just want to spend time with you and…" she pouted, "I don't want to share you."

His face lit up at her words and he burst out laughing, making her frown at him. "Share me?" he shook his head at her.

"If all you want to do is make fun of me – " she began, but he swallowed her protests with his mouth, kissing her sweetly and she sighed against him.

Pulling back, he stroked her cheek. "You're adorable," he said, smiling down at her fondly. "And you don't ever have to worry about sharing me. I'm yours, remember?" He broke her resolve and she flashed him a sweet smile. "Besides," he continued brightly. "We need to get out more. We never do anything together anymore, we just stay in our rooms and…"

"And you don't enjoy that?" she teased, grinning slyly at him. This was what she loved about him; how carefree and easy and light he made her feel. It was like nothing else.

"No, I do," he insisted, seriously, "you know how much I like that. It's just – " he broke off and ran a hand through his hair, and the uncertainty that seeped from him worried her. He looked vulnerable all of a sudden, meek, naïve. This side of him was one she rarely saw. Yet she cherished it all the same. "We're a couple, Padme," he continued bravely. "We should do, y'know, coupley things." His hands came and rested on her shoulders, sliding up and down her arms gently as he gazed into her eyes, into her soul. "I want to take you out. I want to spoil you. I want to show you off."

Her heart surged with affection for him at his words. She had forgotten how sweet he truly was sometimes.

"I'm your boyfriend," he said. "And I want people to know that. This… what we do – " he paused and bit his lip, suddenly insecure and she encouraged him by taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. "I feel like your… like your lover, Padme. Not your boyfriend."

And just like that, she suddenly understood. Anakin had told her of his past, of how he had never been in a relationship before. It's always been physical – just physical. No emotions or. Just sex. He'd done this before, the sex with no expectations, no deeper feelings, but it was clear he wanted something more, much more, with her. He loved her.

"Oh, Ani," she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him sweetly. "I love you. You know I love you." She felt entirely undeserving of his affection for her. "I promise, I promise we'll go out more, alright?"

The insecurity was gone and the light returned to his eyes again. Under all of his self-assurance, he was so insecure. It endearing, but it always made Padme worried. Was she not showing him enough affection? Was she not proving her love to him? He proved it to her every day, even when they were apart. It was no grand gestures, but just simple words, asking about her day, inquiring about Harvard, telling her he missed her. What did she give him in return?

"Thank you," he smiled and their lips met once again in a kiss. When they broke away, both their cheeks were flushed and he grinned sheepishly at her, his eyes so full of adoration for her that she, once again, felt unworthy. Then, suddenly, he was laughing and his thumb came up to swipe across her chin and mouth. It pulled away, covered in shaving cream, and her eyes widened as she hurried checked herself over in the mirror. The bottom half of her face was smeared with it and she groaned, "Anakin," and she wiped it away with a tissue.

She left Anakin to his grooming and went back out to her bag, searching through her belongings for her favourite, black jeans. They were the only ones she had packed, and they would have to do, because she didn't have anything else other than her pyjamas and a sundress. It would be far too cold to wear a sundress. To her surprise, she realised she had brought her jacket with her and she released a sigh of relief. Luckily, she was the type of girl to be over-prepared.

Once dressed, she took out her makeup, just as Anakin was leaving the bathroom, and he stopped at the sight of her. "Wow."

His expression made her shake her head at him. "They're just jeans, Ani," she told him while he gazed at her as though she was in lingerie.

"No," he shook his head, "they're not jeans. They're…" he crossed the room in two strides, pulling her against him, his hands cupping her backside and she rolled her eyes at him. "Sinful," he growled into her ear, sliding his lips along it down to suck the lobe into his mouth.

"W-what was that about getting… distracted?" she managed to utter as he ravaged her in the most delicious way and her thoughts became clouded. He simply hummed against her throat until she eventually conjured the will to step out of his arms, making him pout at her like a child. "Go and get dressed, I won't be long."

She could feel his gaze following her, burning into her skin. "What are you doing?"

As she applied her foundation, she could hear him cursing as he tripped over his belongings, searching for a clean tshirt and she smiled fondly, laughter escaping her lips. "I'm making myself look pretty," she responded. "We're actually going out in public. I should make an effort."

"You always look pretty," he told her honestly and her entire body warmed.

"You're biased."

There was silence, the distinct sound of a zipper could be heard, and then he appeared behind her, fully dressed, reaching up for his cologne in the medicine cabinet. His elbow nudged her, causing her to smudge her eyeliner and she glowered at him. "Sorry," he muttered, hands up in surrender and she clicked her tongue, turning back towards the mirror. The intoxicating scent of his cologne suddenly filled the air and her demeanour softened. Stretching up on her toes, she kissed his cheek lightly and took his hand, pulling him out.

"Right, I'm ready. Let's go."

It was dark and the air was cool by the time they pulled up. It was , what Padme referred to, as barely contained chaos. As predicted, there were already wasted eighteen year olds making out in the bushes, but Padme averted her eyes. She felt old. This was definitely not her scene. But Anakin had been adamant. Sometimes, she forgot that he was only twenty. She didn't want to be the one to drag him down and miss out on his youth. That wasn't fair.

Besides, Padme had a point to prove. She wanted to show Anakin that she could be fun every once in a while. But, in order to have said fun, she needed a drink. Something strong. There was no way she could do this without alcohol.

Anakin kept his hand around her waist as they walked inside – was it a frat house? Or just someone he knew? – pulling her into his side, protective. There were so many people that it made it difficult to walk without having to sidestep or bump shoulders with drunk strangers. Every time they did, Anakin gripped her waist tighter, and she smiled. They passed a group of girls, scantily dressed and drinking from red, plastic cups, and they eyed Anakin hungrily as he passed. Padme scowled. No one was allowed look at Anakin like that. Mine. Daring and alarmingly possessive, she slipped a hand into his back pocket. The action surprised him, and he glanced down at her with a questioning glance and she merely kissed his lips quickly, letting everyone know exactly who he belonged to. He's mine.

"Do you want a drink?" he asked her when they had navigated into a less crowded part of the house.

She nodded. "Something strong," she told him, and while he looked surprised at her sudden request, he nodded his head and kissed her cheek.

"I'll be back."

While he was gone, she decided to go and find the bathroom. It was easy to find; there was a large line of girls leading to the front door, looking bored, some looking green, and she shook her head. She remembered those days, just turned eighteen, and throwing up after three drinks. Of course, that had been quite some time ago, and again, Padme felt a pang of distress as she realised how old she actually was. Anakin never made her feel old. In fact, it was like he didn't even know it. But, being here, amongst all these people so much younger than her, she realised with a start that she was old. Would that be a problem later? Would Anakin grow tired of her and want someone younger? Closer to his age. Fun? The thought troubled her more than she cared to admit as she waited in line.

It took almost ten minutes before she went to find Anakin, cursing herself that she didn't tell him where she was going. Even though he was very tall, she was short and that made it difficult to find anyone. Then, she heard the sound of his laughter, and followed it. The sight before her made her scowl.

Anakin, standing with an unknown girl, laughing. And not just any laughter. Hysterical laughter.

Her blood boiled with jealousy. Padme didn't think of herself as a violent person - maybe it was just because the girl standing with Anakin was beautiful and exotic and voluptuous, or because she had her arm around him while they laughed - but either way, Padme felt a sudden urge to punch the girl in the face for even thinking about touching her Anakin.

These sudden feelings overwhelmed her, and she knew she was being ridiculous – Anakin would never think of leaving her – but memories of seeing Clovis in the exact same position flooded her vision and clouded her thoughts. With fierce determination, she strode right up to him, and the girl paused mid-laughter, staring at her, while Anakin beamed at her presence, his arm finding its way back around her waist.

"I thought you'd gotten lost," he said, pressing a kiss to her temple, but she didn't return it, or even acknowledge him. She kept staring at the girl. She was so sexy, large brown eyes, smooth olive skin, luscious dark hair that spilled over her shoulders and down her back. And her curves, Padme noticed, glowering. It wasn't fair for someone to look so perfect. That green-eyed monster surfaced and overwhelmed her and suddenly, she was no longer in control of her emotions.

"You didn't seem too worried about me," she snapped a response, and Anakin stiffened beside her, raising his eyebrows.

"So," the girl laughed, breaking the ice and smiling down at her. "This must be that famous Harvard girlfriend of yours, Skywalker," she said, voice low and husky with a slightly foreign accent to it, which only heightening her appeal, much to Padme's annoyance.

Anakin grinned at her, "This is Aayla Securra," he told Padme. "She's in my class. This is Padme." The way he said her name, so full of pride and love, softened her fierce demeanour a little, but she still continued to scrutinise Aayla with narrowed eyes.

Aayla beamed at her, showing perfect, white teeth, and held out her hand. "It's so nice to finally meet you," she said. "Anakin never stops talking about you."

Padme glanced at the perfectly manicured hand outstretched in front of her, but didn't take it. She knew she was being rude, but she didn't care. That hand had rested on Anakin's arm. Only Padme was allowed to do that. "Funny," she remarked with an uncharacteristic snarl. "He's never mentioned you."

Aayla seemed taken aback by her short response, and the air grew uncomfortable between them. "Uh, I think I see Kit over there. I'll… I'll catch you later, Skywalker," she said, awkwardly, before disappearing into the crowd. Good, Padme thought bitterly, though a part of her was extremely concerned by her sudden aggression towards Aayla. Where was all of this coming from?

Anakin gripped her forearm and dragged her out outside, away from the crowd and behind the shed. Once they were alone, he released her arm and frowned at her. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked, incredulous and angry, though he kept his voice low so that no one would hear.

Padme turned her head away from him, crossing her arms and pouting. "Nothing," she snapped. "I don't want to talk about it, Anakin." She couldn't quiet explain what had happened. All of a sudden she had snapped and this new, aggressive side of her had been released. She went to walk away but he blocked her with his body, his face determined.

"No. We are going to talk about it. Whether you want to or not."

She glowered at him. "You don't own me, Anakin. You can't tell me what I can and cannot do." The words were coming out full of venom, almost as if she couldn't control herself. She didn't want to be angry at him, but she was. Some part of her was angry at him, very angry, yet she didn't know why. Why was she acting like this?

"What's gotten into you?" he demanded. "Is it that time of the month or something?"

That was it. She snapped her head up, fuming, nostrils flaring. How dare he suggest something like that? Her hands clenched into fists, bottom lip trembled, as she growled, "what did you just say to me?"

Immediately, he knew he had done something wrong, and his eyes pleaded with her, hands reaching out, "fuck, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that – "

" – how dare you, Anakin," she spat, shaking with rage. When had she lost control of her emotions like this? Why was this happening?

"Padme," he reached out and gripped her shoulders, staring into her eyes, so serious and sincere but she was beyond care. "I shouldn't have said that. It was rude. I'm sorry. But…" he broke off and rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly. "You're acting… you're acting crazy, right now."

"Crazy?" She had given up trying to keep quiet. Her control had been lost moments ago and now she was releasing everything, her anger, her jealousy, her insecurities. It all came exploding out of her and she couldn't stop it, like a volcano that had been dormant for far too long. "Thanks, Anakin. Thanks for once again proving you're a misogynistic asshole."

His eyes widened and he held his hands up in surrendered, clearly taken aback by her sudden aggression. "Woah! Where is this coming from?" he asked, pleading, alarmed, clearly upset. "What did I do, Padme? Tell me. What did I do to – to make you this upset?"

She could sense his distress and she felt bad for him, because she was being very unreasonable, but she couldn't stop now. "You really don't know?" she hissed. He stared at her, dumbfounded, clearly trying to figure out why she was so angry. He was biting his bottom lip, but Padme didn't stop there. "How come you've never told me about her before?" she demanded.

Anakin frowned in confusion, running a hand through his hair. "You've never wanted to know anything about my friends," he replied.

"That's not true," she hissed, but he locked his jaw. She could tell he was trying to restrain himself, control his anger, but he was just as unstable as she was and his resolve was failing him.

"Yes it is. We've been together five months, Padme. Five months. And this is the first time you've agreed to meet any of my friends." He sighed and rubbed his temples, but Padme stood her ground, crossing her arms, lips pursed, eyes narrowed. "I thought you'd like Aayla," he muttered. "She's nice, I thought you'd get on with her."

"Yeah," Padme drawled sarcastically. "I can see how nice you think she is."

"What are you talking about?" his eyes were swimming with confusion but that only made Padme angrier. Like he didn't know?

She rolled her eyes. "Like you haven't noticed." When he simply blinked at her, expression blank, she continued, "how attractive she is."

Understanding flashed across his face and he rubbed the back of his neck again, heaving a deep sigh. "Aayla? Well, yeah, I suppose. What does that have to do with anything?"

Padme groaned. "Don't play dumb with me, Anakin. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

They stared at each other, both set in a fierce resolve for several minutes, until Anakin sighed, head in his hands. "I can't believe this. You're jealous. That's what this is all about, isn't it? You're jealous." He was incredulous, and a laugh stumbled out of him, a wild, bewildered sort of laugh and then suddenly, he seized her, his mouth crushing against hers fiercely, aggressively and she returned it, kissing him violently, biting his lips, making them red and raw and she felt the taste of his blood on her tongue, but she didn't care, because all of her frustration and anger and jealousy poured out of her into him. She needed this. When they pulled away, they both heaved with deep breaths and Anakin shook his head at her.

"I thought I was meant to be the jealous one," he laughed.

She pouted at him. "I'm not allowed to be jealous?" she demanded.

He grinned. "No. I'm the one who's supposed to be emotionally unstable. You're meant to have your head screwed on."

She stared deep into his eyes. "I do. Mostly. Just – not when I'm with you. You make me feel…" He kissed her again, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and she forgot what she was going to say, the point she was trying to make. It was all too overwhelming and she began to cry. "I-I'm sorry," she spluttered against him. "God, I'm so, so, sorry, Ani. I don't know what – I just… lost control and I – I couldn't – I'll go apologise to her... I promise. I'll never do this - again - "

He stroked her cheek gently, looking a little bemused. "You have absolutely nothing to be jealous of." She laughed thickly, shaking her head at how ridiculous she had been. She was so embarrassed that she couldn't even look at him. She felt sick. But Anakin just held her to his chest, stroking her hair. "How I could I possibly want anyone but you?"

Padme stifled a sob against his shirt, muttering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I love you, I love you" over and over again until, eventually, she had calmed down. Anakin pressed his lips lightly against her forehead and smiled. "Are you alright, now?" She nodded, giving him a watery smile. "Good." He took her hand and they went back inside. "I think we both need a drink after that."