(spacer)
Chapter Fifteen
Slumber Party
Too many hands of sabacc had been played, their tea had gotten cold, and the conversation was beginning to lull. It was late, and Padmé knew it. She had been observing Obi-Wan for the past hour in an attempt to detect any sign of weariness. However, he seemed to still be alert and focused, probably since he'd basically slept the past three days straight!
Procrastination was not a habit Padmé practiced though, and she realized sooner or later, somebody was going to have to suggest they retire. Leave it up to Dormé.
The young assistant exaggeratedly stretched and yawned. "It's late and I'm tired. Anakin and I will sleep in my room. You two figure things out for yourselves. Come on, babe."
With a hopeful smirk, the young Jedi rose, bid his Master and the Senator a pleasant evening and followed Dormé down the short hallway which led to the assistant's own private suite.
Padmé nervously smiled at Obi-Wan and began stacking the sabacc cards.
"We need to talk," Obi-Wan announced suddenly
She knew what he was going to say, but she'd already made up her mind. This particular Jedi was about to experience Naberrie stubbornness firsthand.
"This is your home and regardless of the unfortunate circumstances, I must insist you sleep in your own bed. I'll take the sofa."
Padmé replaced the sabacc deck into its container and pushed it aside, sitting straight and meeting Obi-Wan's steady gaze. "I will not hear of it. You are ill, and I am the one responsible."
"You had very little…"
"That doesn't matter," she interrupted him. "You have been the one to suffer from Dormé's interference. You will sleep in my bed."
"I don't think.."
"You have only one option, Knight Kenobi," she boldly confirmed. "We can sit up half the night negotiating, or we can reach some sort of compromise."
A broad grin crinkled Obi-Wan's eyes. "Are you always this interminable?"
He had just called her stubborn, but she could tell he was teasing and her smile turned playful. "Why, yes. I am a politician, after all."
Obi-Wan leaned back in his chair and regarded her silently for a moment. Padmé wondered what he could possibly be thinking.
"I've known a few politicians in my day, and you are nothing like them."
She didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or not. However, with her hopes for the evening settling quietly in the background of her mind, she chose to be optimistic and push the subject. "In what way?"
His brows rose and the young woman congratulated herself. It wasn't very often she was given the opportunity to put Obi-Wan on the spot.
He didn't hesitate in a reply. "I find that most representatives are fairly autocratic and self-serving, not to mention dishonest. You have not only opened your home to me and my Padawan, but have taken care of me and made every effort to ensure my comfort."
"Like I would a lost puppy?" Padmé suggested. Due to his description, it was the first image which had risen in her mind.
"No," Obi-Wan chuckled. "Not like a puppy. Like a true friend. Someone I can rely on and confide in."
A friend. Was that what Obi-Wan thought of her? How could she ever explain to him she wished for more than just friendship? Should she? Or would the conversation merely damage their budding relationship?
A newborn blossom required tender care, a gentle touch and patience for it to reach its full potential beauty. Padmé decided to wait, disguising her disappointment with a smile.
"You know you can count on me," she replied to his statement before sidestepping the subject entirely. "Now back to the sleeping arrangements. If you haven't noticed already, the apartment furnishings are aesthetically pleasing, but seeing the Chancellor had a droid decorate it, I can guarantee the sofa is not comfortable enough for sleeping. My suite, however, is something I designed myself. I chose the most comfortable bed I could find in Galactic City. Knowing that, I must insist that we share it."
Once again, copper brows lifted high on his handsome face, but Padmé pushed forward in spite of his surprise. "We are both adults and are friends. Surely, we can sleep together in the same bed without any embarrassing interludes, can't we?"
"A fair argument," Obi-Wan agreed with a nod. "If you shall assist me, Senator, we shall head that way."
A battle had been won, but Padmé realized a complete victory was still uncertain.
She helped Obi-Wan to the room and then excused herself to prepare for the evening, as he did the same. Once in the refresher, which led to her considerable wardrobe, the young woman paused. In one hand she held a rather plain, modest sleep garment, which a high neck and long sleeves. In the other, was a slightly more presumptuous piece with a low neckline, short bell sleeves, and fairly tight bodice. She actually owned more risqué nightgowns, but chose this one since it was in the middle of the scale. To her, it still read 'sleep-over' not 'hookup', although it had possibilities.
When she returned to the bedroom, she discovered Obi-Wan sitting on the bed, his face pale, his breathing hitched. Padmé rushed to him.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes," he huffed. "Just not back to my old self, I guess."
"I'm sorry, I should've realized. I should've been here to help you. I was gone too long."
"Don't worry," he replied, grinning as the young lady fussed over him, assisting him to lie down and then began arranging the coverlet about his form. "I really thought I would be able to dress myself."
"You need to take it easy. You're still ill." Padmé admonished him lightly, adding a pillow behind his head for comfort.
"Then, I suppose a round of more aggressive negotiations is out of the question?"
The statement caught Padmé completely off guard, but rekindled the hope burning within the recesses of her mind. She was close enough to Obi-Wan to simply lean forward and kiss him, but she could tell he was as shocked by his boldness as she was. Instead, the young woman craned upward and placed a chaste peck upon his forehead.
"The time for negotiations has passed, I'm afraid," she teased, returning to her side of the wide mattress. "It's time for action. You need to rest."
"Yes, Mi'Lady," she heard him utter as she switched off the glowlight and settled beneath the covers herself.
Years ago, when she still lived at home, Padmé recalled having to sleep in the same bedroom as her sister, Sola. There were many nights her father would bang on their door and tell them to go to sleep, after hours of giggling, playful banter, and whispered girlish conversation.
She imagined her night with Obi-Wan would be just like that. However, the longer she lay there, staring up at the glimmer of passing traffic lights decorating her ceiling, she began to wonder if Obi-Wan had fallen asleep. His breathing had slowed and he hadn't said a word. She should sleep as well, but discovered she couldn't.
And then realized she wouldn't when the sound of Dormé's voice drifted beneath her door.
"Not that way! Ow! That hurts! Like this! There, that's it, babe. Oh, Anakin! Oh yes, yes, yes, yes….!"
Padmé stared wide-eyed and mortified at the ceiling. Gods, she hoped Obi-Wan was asleep and wasn't listening to what was going on!
"Padmé, are you awake?"
His voice broke the relative silence of her room and colored her face a deep crimson. For a moment, she considered pretending not to hear him, to feign ignorance and will herself into unconsciousness, but decided she couldn't. She'd never been a very good liar and actually detested deceit.
"Yes," she admitted ruefully.
"It sounds as if someone's having a good time."
His words immediately lightened the mood, causing Padmé to smile into the darkness. "Those two definitely know how to do that."
There was a pause, accompanied by the sounds of feminine moaning and more husky groans coming from down the hall.
"You know, I wasn't sure how Anakin was going to handle a relationship with someone as rambunctious as your assistant seems to be, but I think she may do him some good."
Was this that friendly confiding he had spoken of? If so, Padmé appreciated it. She had often wondered what Obi-Wan thought of Anakin's relationship with Dormé. It was a relief to hear it directly from him, although it made her wonder. His statement still rang of indecision, which was easily understandable. She harbored her own doubts.
"I don't know," Padmé admitted genuinely. "On her own, Dormé is a tempest. With Anakin, she's a downright exasperation."
The chorus of lovemaking crescendoed yet again, to the point where all Padmé wanted to do was to pull the covers over her head and hide.
"They're still young," Obi-Wan pointed out. "They have a lot of energy."
"They argue too much." Padmé added.
"That's not always a bad thing," Obi-Wan countered. "In some cases, it's the only way a couple can communicate."
There was a rather dramatic exclamation which had floated down from the other bedroom, which Padmé hoped would bring the end to the noise. After a few minutes, when silence once again reigned in her home, she sighed with relief.
What Obi-Wan had said was now at the forefront of her thoughts. Padmé didn't want to be disagreeable, but he had left her no choice.
"That may be what love means to some people," she spoke assuredly. "But not for me. Being in love means doing your best to make the other person happy, to bring out their best, not point out their worst. There may be moments of opposition and misunderstanding, but those can always be resolved in a peaceful, mature manner, without causing pain to either individual. Everything should be handled with faith and respect."
She honestly believed that, but worriedly clenched her fists anyway, unsure of what Obi-Wan's reaction was going to be.
When his hand reached far across the bed in search of her own, Padmé's entire body relaxed and she gladly allowed his fingers to slip between her own.
"I agree," he said softly into the night.
And that's all he said before she began to drift away with sleep. But it was enough.
