Thank you again to everyone who has reviewed! You guys encourage me to keep going... Writing can be difficult and discouraging work! All the kind words are a tremendous encouragement and a great motivator. Thank you. :)

CHAPTER SEVEN

A new day dawned for Padme's half of Coruscant's planetwide city, and she awoke in time to watch the sunrise from her bed. Her house droid, a cheap but effective silver protocol droid called TC-05, seemed startled to find her awake so early, and slightly miffed when his mistress made her own breakfast and prepared for the day entirely without assistance. She buzzed around her apartment with energy to burn, and the droid wandered about as its programming struggled to make it useful and failed. Padme finally left a little earlier than her typical time, turning back at the door to address the droid. TC-05 stood at attention eagerly. At last, something to do...

"Will you make sure the kitchen is clean, Teecee? Thank you!" The doors hissed shut behind her.

Teecee's gears hummed as he lowered his head a fraction. He wondered what would become of him alone and unoccupied in the apartment... because his poor, absent-minded mistress had already cleaned up in the kitchen.

The absent-minded Padme made good time even in the throes of Coruscant's infamous traffic, and there was an unmistakeable lightness in her step as she entered the Alderaanian office suite early, toting her usual bag of supplies and armload of datapads as though they weighed nothing at all. "Good morning, Bail," she said brightly, crossing to her desk.

"Hello, Padme," he returned from his desk across the room, sparing a quick glance up from his pile of documents and datapads. He frowned at the pile absently and glanced again at his assistant. Cheerful, he noted silently. And... humming. She was almost... floating. A grin wide and wicked enough to grace a Sith Lord's face spread over Senator Organa's face. He knew it.

"Am I ever going to meet this mystery man of yours, Padme?" He suppressed a laugh as she froze at her desk, and studiously avoided his gaze. He had only just recently discovered that she had any feathers to ruffle, and he was delighted at the prospect. Padme Naberrie was a young woman who had suffered more than anyone else he had ever known, and he would not forgo any opportunity to make her smile... even if he had to make her fidget first. He smiled smugly at her discomfort.

"What in the galaxy are you talking about, Bail?" She resumed her work, concentrating a little too hard.

Bail Organa liked to believe that he was a man of morals, a man who saw the best in others and took them at their word. But he was no fool. He smiled and shrugged.

"Whenever you feel like bringing him around, please do not hesitate, Padme. I would love to meet him. I won't make a fuss over office etiquette, if that's what you are worried about..."

He trailed off and went back to work, enjoying her look of irritation in his peripheral vision. He hoped she would bring him around. Whoever was lifting the weight off her shoulders would get nothing but thanks from him.

Padme's irritation, like most of her emotions, was quickly swallowed up in a never-ending stream of bureaucratic paperwork. She forgot Bail's ridiculous - and misguided - teasing and relaxed into a rhythm of reading and typing. The time flew and she barely glanced at her desk chronometer. A comfortable silence came over the office as midday approached.

The door comm chimed shrilly in the stillness. Bail and Padme looked up from their work. A secretary opened the door, but Padme couldn't make out the voice of the visitor or even see them from her current location. She wondered with a sudden thrill that was a confusing mix of excitement and terror if it might be Lord Vader again. The secretary turned and approached her.

"There is a young gentleman from the art museum to see you, Padme. Palo Neruta?"

Padme felt a rush of relief that left an aftertaste that was suspiciously like disappointment. She shook it off and produced a smile. "Please show him in."

Palo entered with a smile, and immediately crossed to her desk, sitting in the chair she offered. He moved with he same elegant exuberance she remembered, and his face was still as tanned as it had been when they spent summers together back on Naboo. His brown eyes were warm as he looked around at the muted and minimal Alderaanian decor, so very different from the natural and free Nubian styles they had grown up with. His eyes reflected all that had changed and all that would never be again, but still he smiled at her. Padme couldn't help but smile back.

Until she saw Bail's idiotic grin across the room.

Oh no.

"Palo, it's about time for my lunch break - would you like to join me? Then we can talk without disturbing the Senator." She nodded toward Bail, who was the picture of smugness at his desk. She wondered if the words "I knew it" would burst forth on his forehead from the sheer power of his smirk. She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"Sure, Padme. I'm at your disposal."

It was an elegant feat to rush him out the door without rudeness, and Padme felt proud of herself for accomplishing it.

Palo and Padme spent a pleasant hour at a booth in the Senate commissary, reliving old memories and laughing. It felt so strange to be transported back in time with him, to days when Naboo wasn't a tragic word and a time when her memories weren't retroactively stained with grief. She thrived briefly inside the bubble the two of them created with their words and their memories, and for just a moment she felt free.

Her wrist chrono chimed and the bubble burst, the memories draining away from them and fading into the dull gray walls of the commissary. Time was up.

"Well, I've got to go, Palo," she said regretfully, feeling some of the usual heaviness settle over her. "I'm so glad that I ran into you... it was wonderful to talk about the old times." She felt the sorrow in her smile.

"Yes it was," he said, standing with her. "I miss the old days... I have so many wonderful memories. Especially with you." His gaze had suddenly turned direct and Padme shifted away from him.

"Yes," she said quietly. "Those were wonderful days."

He opened his mouth and she hurried to interrupt him. "It was lovely to see you, Palo. I really must get back now. Goodbye." She gave him a quick hug and hurried towards the door.

Palo was caught off guard, but recovered quickly, trotting to catch up with her frantic pace. "Goodbye, Padme. I would love to do this again... I'll call you." He walked her to the turbo lifts and waved as it whisked her away.

The day passed more slowly when Padme returned to the office. She occupied herself with the endless paperwork and scheduling, and with avoiding Bail's inquisitive glances and occasional attempts at conversation. He finally took the hint and let her be, although she felt surprisingly apathetic about the tiny victory. The day dragged on.

Several uneventful hours crawled by, and at last the sunlight was fading beyond the forest of transparisteel outside. Bail packed up and rushed off to his last meeting of the day, and the secretary followed soon after. Padme sat in the pressing silence as the daylight faded altogether, feeling as empty as the room around her. She thought of the art museum and the opera, and it was like looking through a window to an alternate reality full of color and life. She blinked away the images and wondered why she had never noticed just how gray the office looked at twilight.

It was time to decide whether to work late or return home. There was always an abundance of work to be done, and she had nothing at home but dark, empty rooms and an irate protocol droid. She almost smiled at the thought of poor flustered Teecee. She would work a little longer, she eventually decided. She would be productive... and if her productivity had the side effect of staving off the emptiness that was beginning to press against her chest, then so much the better.

The door comm jangled her thoughts. She blinked and wondered whether she ought to ignore it, since it was after hours. It chimed insistently.

Sighing to herself and wondering what galactic crisis could have erupted now, Padme left her desk and went to inspect the security feeds before opening the door. The security cameras had all been powered down when the secretary left. Sighing in annoyance this time, Padme made a mental note to speak to the secretary about that - it was against procedure to deactivate the security cameras when employees were still present in the offices. Besides that, it just wasn't safe. She palmed the door release, risking the unknown just this once-

-and found herself staring at black robes. Lord Vader smiled down at her. "Milady," he said in greeting and swept past her into the office. By the time she had turned around, he had already settled into the spare chair across from hers at the desk. Padme felt the beginnings of indignation and objection rising up inside her, but they reached her lips and rearranged themselves into a smile without her permission. She realized belatedly that she was glad to see him.

How odd.

The smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. "Lord Vader," she replied, assuming her own seat. Night had fallen outside and the office lights glowed warmly in comparison. Lord Vader looked as weary as she felt, dark circles under his clear blue eyes, and his hair looked unruly, as though he had pulled at it during the day. Perhaps he had... the Imperial Senate was a frustrating place.

"How are you today, Padme?" he began in a quiet voice, the tiredness on his face bleeding into his tone. She felt a prickle of concern for him which was quickly overwhelmed by confusion that she should feel any such thing.

"I am fine, My Lord. It was a busy day."

He winced a little (although she could not imagine why), and fell deep into thought. Padme scanned his weary face and the words, "Are you alright?" dragged themselves out of her. He met her eyes in surprise.

"Yes," he said finally, staring at her.

"It's just that you seem so tired," she explained carefully. "Are you sure that you're well?"

He stared, searching her eyes for a moment. She felt the air around her tingle with an almost electrical edge as it often did in his presence, and after a long moment he smiled. "You concern is genuine," he said finally. "You have no idea how rare that is." He relaxed back into his chair and shut his eyes.

"Actually, my Lord, I think I do."

"Perhaps so. Only I wish you would not call me that." His forehead furrowed over his weary face.

"Call you what, Lord Vader?"

"That," he replied sitting up suddenly and speaking with a grimace as though the words were being pulled from him by a straining bantha. "I have a name. Or have you already forgotten?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

Padme remembered their conversation from the day before and suddenly felt the gravity of the situation. No one knew that "Vader" was a title and not a name - no one. He was asking her to call him by his true name...

He was asking her to be his friend.

Her common sense was whispering to her that this was a bad idea, befriending such a powerful figure. An even fainter voice warned that she liked him too well for this to be quite safe... she realized that she was studying his tousled blond hair and looked away, the beginnings of a blush flushing up her neck. He was waiting for a response.

Padme swallowed and made a decision. She felt as she had when she and her sister dove off the highest rocks into the lake near their home - caught in that empty moment before gravity closed around her to drag her down. She fell.

"Very well... Anakin."

She was rewarded with a smile that outshone the stars.

The Imperial Palace was dark. The sun had finally disappeared behind the skyscrapers that composed the jagged horizon, and the ensuing darkness was broken by thousands of lights. Nearby speeder traffic cast a fluctuating glow, and the lights from thousands of apartments, government complexes, businesses, and restaurants kept up a steady, if more distant stream of light.

The shadows were long and dark in the Imperial Throne Room. Every member of the Imperial Court had long since disappeared for the day, taking with them all hints of life. Only the shadows remained.

Emperor Palpatine was seated on his throne, at first seeming to be but another shadow in the darkened room. Only eyes which were quite used to darkness would have been able to detect the ebony robes all but concealing the Emperor's ghostly pale face and piercing yellow eyes. There was no one to see, however, and Palpatine stared out the enormous transparisteel windows behind his throne, a cold smile on his face.

This was his favorite part of every day. The moment when all the underlings disappeared, and all that was left was success. The plans were completed, the decisions had been made, and all that remained until the next morning was the exquisite feeling of success and the heady sensation of power. His eyes, icy and hollow, roamed over the tiny fraction of his Empire that was within his sight. It was glorious. In moments like this, Palpatine often liked to allow his mind to slip into the future on the currents of the Force to test the waters and determine which way the course of events would flow. He had grown very good at foresight. It was a particular gift of his, and one which he had spent a lifetime perfecting.

Tonight, however, he was not certain that he would indulge. At least not until he had made a very important decision. His eyes slid closed and his hairless brows contracted.

He had to decide the fate of Lord Darth Vader.

After learning mere hours before of his apprentice's dalliance with a girl who worked in Senator Organa's office, Palpatine had rapidly progressed from disbelieving to enraged. But, master that he was, he delayed taking any action until he could have time to think. He had always considered his greatest weapon, asset, and gift to be his mind.

He reviewed the facts calmly and logically, forcing his anger to smolder quietly at the back of his mind. Lord Vader had been visiting and talking with a young woman, one Padme Naberrie of Naboo, on a daily basis for some little time. And he had not once mentioned it to his master. The secret nature of the situation left room for only two conclusions: either Lord Vader had somehow involved this girl in his plan to overthrow his master (plans which Palpatine had known about for some time), or Vader had formed some sort of unfortunate emotional attachment. The girl, he had been informed, was quite beautiful and Vader, despite his enormous power and unlimited potential, was still a very young man. It was entirely possible that he thought he loved this girl.

Palpatine's eyes snapped open and he made a vague sound of disgust. He had been wondering if this day would come. He suspected that his powerful apprentice might one day be caught in a situation like this. The boy had, unfortunately, not begun Sith training early enough to preclude any and all emotional attachments. When Palpatine had first laid eyes on the boy, he had felt overpowering fear, but underneath all of that, he had detected a hideously strong bond of love between the child and the mother he had left behind. He had tried everything to break the boy of this flaw, but to no avail. Love, he had discovered, was resilient beyond belief. Even when the mother had died, the love remained. It was buried beneath all the anger and hopelessness and despair caused by her death, but it would not die itself. And so Palpatine lived with the uneasy suspicion that one day, Vader's heart would again emerge. He had learned that a heart that had known love was much more likely to love again than one that had been mercifully deprived since birth.

Palpatine knew that the day had finally arrived. His apprentice loved this girl in all likelihood, and they were rapidly approaching a crossroads. They had been approaching the crisis point which occurred between every Sith and his apprentice, but now Palpatine sensed that the stakes were higher than ever before. For if Palpatine made a move to eradicate this distraction, he felt with certainty that he would not survive for long. Anakin had been very sensitive about family and friends, and Vader had retained the flaw. If he killed the girl, as he was inclined to do, he would risk an immediate coup against him. And Vader was powerful. Palpatine was not entirely certain which one of them would emerge the victor in a confrontation. He hated uncertainty.

He pondered in silence a few minutes more, studying the dilemma like a jeweler might study a gemstone. If he examined each facet, a flaw would soon present itself.

And then, with the sudden intensity of a flame unexpectedly lit in a dark room, he saw the solution.

He would not do away with the distraction, and he would not cut out the weakness. He would exploit it.

If Vader really did love this girl, he would go to any lengths to keep her safe. He would even avoid seizing power if he thought it would save her life. Palpatine's thin lips suddenly lifted into a small smile. He had often pondered on the troubling thought of his apprentice's growing power and his complete lack of weaknesses. Now, Vader had kindly presented him with an exploitable weakness. All he had to do was threaten her life if Vader stepped out of line.

Palpatine resolved to allow this distraction. And he resolved to have a spy near the girl at all times that could deal with her if the need were to arise.

He returned his attention to the glimmering cityscape, the smile still firmly in place as a feeling of calm settled over him.

He had always considered his greatest gift to be his mind.