Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or anything related to Star Wars. Nothing. Nada.

Chapter 8

Padmé goes from tearful to furious in the matter of time it takes her to pick out a new outfit.

Sabé, Saché, and Dormé scurry around as she rages on, helping her prepare for her meeting with the Chancellor.

"This is Dooku's doing," she tells them through gritted teeth. "He murdered Cordé and Versé. The Senate has no choice but to intervene. They can't keep turning a blind eye to him when he's obviously pulling the strings and goading us into making a rash decision about the Military Act; he knows what the consequences will be."

"Yes, m'lady," Dormé agrees, anxiously finishing Padmé's hair.

Padmé and Dormé leave shortly after, resolute in what she wants to get out of the meeting.

"I won't let them die for nothing."

None of her aides want to be the ones to point out that, historically speaking, this will do little to spur the Senate on. Two dead women in Coruscant is hardly going to spark ire. There's no reasoning with her though.

While she's off, Sabé and Saché are given the duty of arranging for Cordé's and Versé's bodies to be returned to Naboo.

"Chancellor Palpatine has offered the use of one of his personal ships to take them home," one of the guards tells them as they go to the mortuary to view their bodies, make sure they're in a state to be seen by their families.

"That's very kind of him," Saché murmurs, eyes fixed on Cordé's singed hair.

Sabé nods her agreement, unable to look at their still figures a moment longer.

The dead don't bother her, but the quietness, the cold and the stillness haunts her. She's used to movement and reading the motions, the dead are confusing. Terrible in the secrets they hold.

They walk back to the apartment after that, needing the air and the noise to force the image of their dead friends from their minds.

They're barely back in their room when they hear Padmé come storming in, a terrified Dormé trailing after her.

"His suggestion, no, his order was for me to have more security! He asked for Jedi to tighten our security detail!"

Saché makes a face, probably considering saying something, but holds her tongue. Still, her body language says plenty.

Now they want to help, after there's a body count. How generous of them.

If the moment weren't so dire Sabé would laugh.

"He suggested Kenobi and Skywalker."

Sabé's insides seem to drop out and her heart stops dead in her chest.

Of course, why not? It's not like there are hundreds, maybe thousands of other Jedi to choose from.

"He thought a pair of familiar faces would make it less obtrusive."

How thoughtful, Sabé thinks irritably.

Dormé smiles, obviously charmed by his consideration for their comfort. "It was very nice of him to think of that."

"Yes," Saché rolls her eyes. "So kind."

"Just because he suggested it doesn't mean he'll get them, does it?" Sabé wonders aloud, hoping Padmé will tell her the Chancellor's goodwill has been met with stone faced resistance.

"Masters Yoda and Windu were there," Padmé answers, tossing a pair of shoes into her closet. "They seemed to think it was real possibility."

"Who?" Saché asks before waving the question away as unimportant. "Did they hear your suspicions about Dooku?"

"Yes."

"And?"

Padmé's expression darkens. "They were unconvinced. Said their intelligence believed it to be disgruntled spice miners."

Saché arches an eyebrow. "Shocking."

"When will you be meeting with them," Sabé quickly asks, no longer following the conversation. She wants to be as far away as possible when the Jedi arrive.

"This afternoon. They'll comm before they arrive."

"Fantastic," Saché mutters.

#######

They spend the rest of the day escorting Padmé to meetings, diverting attention by having Padmé and Dormé go one way and Sabé, as the Senator, along with Saché go another way. There's no telling who might be watching and plotting against her.

They're hardly as convincing as they'd been a decade prior, but the ruse is still useful. As long as no one looks too closely, they're close enough in height and size that with the proper dressing to pass for one another.

They're forced to use the offices of the Alderaanian senator between meetings.

Padmé's is deemed unsafe until further notice.

While they're in meetings, her office is stripped and searched, put back together to ensure no hidden listening devices or explosives are missed.

A pair of Jedi are sent to conduct personnel 'debriefings' but Padmé refuses to let them near her personal staff.

"I trust these people with my life," she snaps. "And if you think I'm going to let you bully them or interrogate them, you're very, very wrong."

"We need to investigate all possibilities, madam Senat-"

"Then investigate, but leave my staff out of it."

Sabé almost points out that refusing to allow for the possibility that someone might have betrayed her is as foolish as the Jedi refusing to believe that one of their own has fallen so far, but keeps quiet.

She hadn't betrayed Padmé, nor had Saché, Dormé, or Typho, the only ones singled out for 'debriefing' from Padmé's personal staff. She's confident enough in her friends to doubt that interrogating them would turn up much.

Despite their insistence, Padmé puts an end to their attempts with a call to the Chancellor.

"Oh Padmé," Saché chuckles as she watches the two Jedi retreating down the hall. "You're my hero."

#######

Saché's amusement is short lived.

When they return to the apartment they're met with a distressing sight.

"Those are my underpants!" Saché snaps at young security officer carrying out a drawer.

She marches up to him and snatched the drawer away, growling at him for good measure.

"What's going on here?" Padmé shouts, grabbing a set of shimmer silk dresses from one of the men.

"It's part of the investigation. Just like your office, m'lady," one of the officers explains, trying and failing to look impressive in his too snug uniform.

"I was not told my entire living quarters were to be dismantled and rifled through like a rummage sale!"

"M'lady we must secure everywhere they might get to you at. Surely you understand this?" He adds, clearly not understanding who he is trying to win an argument against.

Padmé grinds her teeth, forcing a pleasant expression onto her face. "And just where am I and my attendants to stay? And what about all our things?"

He smiles, insincere to his core.

"Another apartment has been set up for you and the ladies and appropriate measures have been taken to ensure that all of your personal items will be quickly there."

Padmé looks ready to argue, but bites her tongue. More than half their things have already been moved, they might as well go to the new apartment.

With one last glare she turns on her heels and heads out the doors, tossing a 'Be sure that they are' over her shoulder as she goes.

Before entering the turbolift Saché snatches a bag of shoes from one of the officers, making sure to swat him in the face with her hair as she turns to march out after Padmé.

"Why did they wait until now to search the apartment? Shouldn't they have done that before we even got there? And we were just there this morning!" Dormé looks increasingly horrified at the implications of all the possible answers to each question she comes up with.

Saché replies with a derisive snort. "Because they're idiots. We should never have let the Coruscanti police have any hand in our security no matter what the Senate says."

Considering how the investigation has gone so far, piecemealed together between Naboo forces, Jedi, and the Coruscant police, Sabé can't say she doesn't agree. There are too many people involved, too many chances to cover something up.

Brushing the worry aside for the time, Sabé takes the shoes from Saché.

They're directed to the far side of the building, where they have a far better view of the city at least.

All their belongings are scattered around, labeled clumsily and being carted by droids to what they must feel are appropriate rooms.

Setting swiftly to work, they chase the droids down, taking their boxes out of Padmé's room and into what will now be their own, removing Dormé's, and passing along Cordé and Versé's to Typho.

It isn't until Saché has finished counting her holodrama collection, making sure they're all intact and unscathed, that Padmé hurries in, hair only half done.

"They're on their way."

No clarification is needed as to who they are.

Pushing Padmé back into her room, Sabé and Saché help Dormé put the final touches on the Senator's outfit before grabbing cloaks and rushing for the door, not even changing out of the uncomfortable shoes they had worn all day.

"See you later, Pads! Have fun! Miss us!" Saché calls out as she hurries after Sabé out the door, not sparing a moment for anyone to question them why they're leaving.

They'll explain later. Or, more accurately, they lie about why they're running off later.

"Ah, freedom! Where to, sissy?" Saché asks breathlessly, once they're on the turbolift.

Sabé shrugs, unconcerned with their destination as long as it's far from the Jedi.

"How about dinner?"

"That's fine," Sabé answers, not really listening as she looks out the window at the setting sun, squinting at the burning red orb as she exits the turbo.

Raising her hand to shield her eyes, she stumbles over her feet.

Saché manages to grab her by the forearm, stop her from hitting the floor, while another pair of hands catches her under the shoulders. Somehow she still manages to slam, face first, into her rescuer's stomach.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! It's these heels! Awful things," she apologizes, frantically trying to right herself. She freezes when she realizes just who she's fallen into.

"Sabé!" Obi-wan's eyes widen in surprise before he looks over her shoulder and sighing. "Saché."

"Kenobi," Saché grumbles, her teeth grinding.

Sabé straightens up, casts her eyes downward, not wanting to look him in the face. Her cheeks burn warmer than a sun. "Ob-Master Kenobi."

They stand there for several moments, the awkwardness growing thick, before Saché makes a frustrated noise.

"I was under the impression Anakin was part of this deal, you abandon him?" She asks, her tone surprisingly civil.

He nods. "He's paying the fare."

"Good," Saché tells him, forcing a smile. "Very lovely to see you. Love your hair, excellent choice. We must be on our way though. Good luck with the Senator. You'll need it."

She starts to pull Sabé past him, but he side steps them, blocks their path.

"You're in a hurry?"

"How very astute of you, whatever gave it away?" Saché asks, her smile growing terse.

His eyebrows rise. "How is it that you are one of best intelligence agents Naboo has, yet apparently cannot keep your temper around Jedi?"

"Because," Saché begins "I know what I'm getting with criminals. Can't be annoyed with that. Besides, what are you going to do to me? Not help me when I need it?" She snorts. "Already got that covered don't you?"

His eyebrows pull together and his mouth turns in a deep frown. He's more frustrated than he'd like them to believe, but he's hiding it well.

"I'm here to help. Or did you forget that?"

She huff, unimpressed. "We'll see."

"We really must be going," Sabé suddenly says, grabbing Saché by the arm and tugging her.

She needs to get away from him. Her face is on fire and her insides are rolling. If she isn't fast she'll loose her breakfast all over his shoes.

Mercifully, they start to get away, but Obi-wan isn't done with them it seems. He cuts off their escape route again.

"Are the two of you no longer part of the security detail?"

He directs the question at Sabé, but she ignores it, and Saché happily answers.

"There are more than enough security officers there. Between Typho's people, the local agents, and now you they hardly need us. Especially not for a simple briefing."

He looks doubtful, and Sabé gets the impression he's about to pick apart the lie.

Before she can think it through, fear and the need to distract him overwhelm her, she blurts out, "We have dates."

Obi-wan's expression flashes surprise before quickly schooling back into polite interest. "Oh?"

"Yes," Saché agrees, shoving him out of the way, "and we're about to be late. Now if you don't mind."

She's in such a hurry she nearly collides with Anakin.

"Hello sweetness," she greets him with a bright smile. "Good luck boys!"

Without a backward glance, the girls dash out the doors and into the dimming Coruscanti sun.

"A date?" Saché laughs. "Really? That's a hoot, Sabs! I haven't been on a date since…I don't even know when the last time I went on a real date was."

Sabé grimaces. She's doesn't remember the last time she had a date either. Her contact with most men has been limited to the ones she's met while working.

"Me either," she admits. "All the ones we meet are just so-so…"

"Creepy?" Saché offers. "Greasy? Old? Perverted? Incompatible?"

She pauses for a minute, nose wrinkled up.

"That really explains your attraction to Kenobi, doesn't it? He's probably really is the only decent man we've run into in the last twenty years."

"Yeah, well," Sabé grunts, running a hand through her hair. "Attraction or not, I can't even look at him."

Saché stops walking, winces. "That's my fault. I made things uncomfortable for you, both of you."

"It's alright Saché...maybe that's what I needed: A good dose of embarrassment to snap me into reality. I'll get over the awkwardness…eventually."

Nodding, Saché links her arm with Sabé's and tugs her along.

"Come on, date, we have a buffet to get to."

#######

After visiting a very seedy restaurant in the Orange District, the sisters treat themselves to a trip to a shoe shop. They quickly discard the painful heels for less glamorous flats that they wear as they visit an ice cream parlor.

"Suppose they're gone?" Saché asks, licking melting blumfruit flavored sherbet from her hand.

"Hopefully," Sabé mutters, hailing the taxi.

They're wrong, of course.

"Oh!" Sabé helps as she tumbles through the front entry and finds Obi-Wan inspecting the trinkets tossed in a box by a bookshelf.

"Why are you still here?" Saché asks, crossing her arms, fighting off the urge to say something rude.

"We're here to help protect the Senator," he answers, speaking slowly, as if she's somewhat slow to understand.

Not missing the slight, Saché cuts Sabé a look.

Bed?

Silently agreeing, Sabé continues to keep her eyes anywhere but on the Jedi.

"'Night," she mumbles as Saché inclines her head, then they turn to leave.

Before they make their escape though, Obi-wan stops them with a question.

"How were your dates?"

Freezing midstep, Sabé glances at Saché.

Her sister smiles, just enough for Sabé to see

She's got a way to shake him, but she's not sure Sabé will like it.

Exhausted, Sabé simply shrugs. She can't possibly embarrass her more than she had that night.

"They bored us," she begins, innocently enough. Then she grins. "A girl can only put up with that stuffy self-important attitude for so long before she contemplates strangling a man. And I'm not talking about the fun kind. Good night, Beardie."

Sabé feels her cheeks burn. She doesn't look at him, just rushes out after Saché.

She was clearly wrong. Her sister can always embarrass her more.

#######

"Anakin's quite grown up isn't he?" Padmé mentions, trying to sound casual as they prepare for bed. "I hardly recognized him."

It's a miserable attempt. Even if her body language weren't keyed up, shouting her attraction, Sabé is pretty sure she'd know.

"Hmm?" Saché doesn't even look up from her reading. "Oh yeah, handsome thing isn't he?"

Padmé's eyebrows rise in shock.

"Are you feeling well? I don't think I've ever heard you so dismissive of an attractive male."

Inappropriate comments and salacious innuendo are Saché's life force. Her not jumping on the topic is a troubling sign.

Saché swipes her finger on her data pad. "I'm not being dismissive. I can't get worked up over him though. I mean, I still see a little kid."

Sabé laughs. "He's not much younger than us."

Looking up, Saché shrugs. "I knew him as a child and I think I'll always see him as a little boy."

Padmé shakes her head. "So do you see Sabé and I as children?"

"Of course," Saché admits, eyes dropping back to her datapad.

"This explains so much," Sabé mutters.

Her sister is delusional, that's what it explains.

Saché looks up again, fixing Padmé in an amused look. "Dormé said you told Anakin the same thing Padmé. Poor thing."

Padmé huffs. "Poor thing? Why 'poor thing'?"

Saché grins, expression maddeningly superior. "Because he's smitten with you, has been for ages. You're all he asked about when we ran into him last. Don't pretend you didn't know. And now it's painfully clear you like him too."

"What, might I ask, makes you so sure I like him?" Padmé crosses her arms, trying to appear indifferent to Anakin and Saché's assessment of her feelings, but failing spectacularly.

Saché simply holds up a finger, then points it at herself. "Lorrdian."

Not waiting for a response, she goes back to her reading.

Making a frustrated noise, Padmé gets up and hurries out, muttering something that sounds like 'completely wrong' under her breath.

Sabé grins, looks at Saché.

She isn't wrong.

#######

It's late when Sabé wakes shivering.

The air around her shudders and she sits up, uncertain what's wrong.

Just when she's decided it was nothing more than a lingering nightmare, a Saché shoots bolt upright, eyes wide.

"What the…"

Someone screams down the hall.

Jumping from their beds, the girls race down the hall to the source of the commotion: Padmé's room.

Anakin runs past them without notice as they slid to a stop in front of Padmé's room.

Pushing past the half dozen security guards watching with dumbfounded expressions hanging on their faces, Sabé registers the broken window and then Dormé setting on the bed with Padmé, both seemingly fine but frightened.

Typho is grim as he looks at the sisters. "It was another assassination attempt."

"Really? I'd never have guessed," Saché mutters, rolling her eyes as she goes to the window to examine it closer.

Sabé settles on the bed next to Padmé. "What happened?"

"A droid. It put those," she waves her hand in disgust at a singed looking thing on the ground, dead and limp now, "in my room. Anakin killed it."

Saché jerks her thumb at the broken window, jagged edge jutting up threateningly. "Not very subtle was is?"

Padmé grimaces. "Obi-wan did that."

When she notices the confused looks on her friends' faces she clarifies. "He jumped out the window to catch the droid."

Sabé bounds off the bed, reaching the window seconds after Saché. They both lean out, squinting down and expecting to see bits of Obi-wan hanging from the antennas and awnings scattered along the side of the building.

There isn't so much as a thread dangling from the glass though.

Saché's nose wrinkles, trying not to look disappointed. "I don't see him."

"It flew off with him," Dormé explains, pointing out into the messy Coruscant skyline.

Sabé turns and stares out the window, half expecting to see a Jedi bouncing off the hood of a speeder. Flew off with him?

"Anakin went to follow it," Padmé continues on, going to her wardrobe and grabbing a cloak.

"Maybe they'll find something out about whoever is making these attempts," Typho mutters to himself, leaning down and examining the creature, taking out a datapad and scanning it.

"If it doesn't kill him first," Sabé grumbles, still watching out the window.

It's going to be a long night.