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Chapter Twenty-Two
"Consequences Happen"
Their conversations had been altered, becoming far more personal; the awkwardness of holding each other was now non-existent. And even though a particular desirous subject loomed in the shadows of her mind, Padmé decided to take Obi-Wan's advice and 'live in the moment.'
She knew him well enough to realize in this, he wouldn't be rushed. Nor would he do anything to disrespect her in any way; which meant, she was going to have to be patient. So very, very patient.
Right now, their focus was not on the future or its possibilities, but apparently on their hands. Both were currently lifted into the air, pressed together, palm to palm as if they were a point of interest; a comparative study of textures, size, and fit. In her opinion, Padmé thought that Obi-Wan's hand felt quite comfortable against hers and was as attractive as the rest of him, and that she was in dire need of a manicure. Obi-Wan hadn't seemed to notice.
So far, she had been able to participate in the playful touches and caresses without allowing her fantasies to run rampant. That is, until his attention shifted, and he began to nuzzle her neck, discovering a spot along her collarbone which was quite sensitive, the touch of his beard there sending goosebumps shooting down her arm.
He did happen to notice that, of course, and soothed the reaction with a slow, gentle caress.
"Are you cold?" he asked with a much deeper voice than usual, sending another shiver down her left leg.
"No," Padmé truthfully replied. "Quite the opposite, in fact."
Her admission caused a grin to erupt on his face, although his caresses remained innocent, causing her to squirm. When he eased her inability to remain still with suckling kisses along her jaw and mouth, she nearly shouted out her surrender and gave in to her desires, her nails scraping along his bare back in a desperate plea.
The action caused him to raise his head. Padmé could see the unsated hunger in his eyes, but she could also hear evidence of a different type of hunger occurring a bit further down. His stomach was rumbling.
"It's past dinner time," she pointed out the obvious.
"I don't care," he replied, lowering his head to feast upon her throat.
Padmé wriggled once more beneath the talented onslaught of his lips and tongue. "You need to eat something to keep up your strength," she insisted, although she wanted nothing more than to lay with him like this until they were bones and dust.
Her concern for his well-being soon overcame the rather titillating sensations, however, and she withdrew from his embrace, causing him to fall face forward onto the bed with a disappointed groan.
"Come on. Let's not add to the suspense. We'll say we've both been sleeping. That's all."
"All right," Obi-Wan agreed reluctantly, rolling over, but taking a moment to sit on the side of the bed before joining her at the door.
"Are you doing okay?" she asked, concerned perhaps the virus was affecting him still.
"Perfectly fine," he assured her. "Just give me a moment. I can't go in there in this state, or the mystery is solved."
Full understanding brought a blush to Padmé's cheeks and a proud smile to her face. Obviously, she had the same effect as he did on her, although his self-control was far more advanced. If he planned on making her wait too much longer though, she was going to spontaneously combust!
Padmé was pleased to find both her sofas were empty. Apparently, the young couple had retreated to the privacy of Dormé's room, although there wasn't much noise coming from that direction.
Taking advantage of their own privacy, Padmé took Obi-Wan's arm and drew him into the kitchen, where she pressed him against the closed divider and kissed him senseless.
"What kind of food would you like to eat this evening?" she asked when she withdrew, pleased with herself when he leaned forward in pursuit of her lips.
"Food?" he murmured distractedly. "What's that?"
"A necessity, I'm afraid," Padmé told him as she opened the cooling unit in search of something edible. With Obi-Wan in the room, distractions were inevitable, and she lost her concentration completely with both his arms wrapped around her from behind.
"We could always order out again," he offered. "It would be quick and easy to clean up, which would allow us more time to be alone."
"You, Master Jedi," Padmé teased, trying her best to focus on the reason she came in here, "have a one-track mind."
"When it comes to you, my dear, I most certainly do." He punctuated his declaration with a kiss to the side of her face just before they heard voices drifting down the hall.
Damn!
They immediately separated, though just before Dormé burst through the door, Anakin in tow.
"Hey, you two!" she announced happily.
"Good evening, Master," the Padawan said with more formality.
"We were getting hungry and came in here to fix something, but it looks like you beat us to it! Who's cooking tonight?"
Padmé glanced at Obi-Wan, whose face had once again taken on the serene, unflappable countenance of a Jedi. She smiled anyway, now that she understood it was all for show; for the benefit of his student and his boisterous girlfriend.
"I will," Padmé volunteered, which caused a look of surprise on everyone's faces.
"You?" Obi-Wan questioned, revealing a disturbing level of doubt.
"Yes, me! I know my way around a kitchen. Maybe you can help." She wanted nothing more than to spend their evening preparing a meal together, and could picture it as a most enjoyable activity they could share, with a variety of seductive possibilities.
However, Dormé would have none of it.
"I'll stay and help. Master Kenobi should relax. And besides, Anakin needs to speak with him."
"I do?" the young man questioned, resulting in receiving an elbow to his ribcage, which he coughed off before taking the obvious hint. "Oh yeah, that's right. I do."
Padmé couldn't disguise her disappointment, aiming it at Obi-Wan, who smiled reassuringly at her.; almost as if to say, 'we have tonight and then the rest of our lives.' Discouraged, but hopeful, Padmé acquiesced, and agreed to her assistant's suggestion.
Since the variety of ingredients were diminishing quickly, the best option for the menu this evening was stew. While Dormé prepped the base and browned the tenderloin, Padmé chopped the vegetables.
"Aren't you going to tell me anything?" her assistant prompted after what Padmé hoped would be ongoing silence.
"There isn't anything to say," she replied, nearly complete with her task.
"That's rather disappointing." Dormé uttered, adding the beef to the stew pot. "I was sure hoping the two of you had finally gotten together. I don't know what to say, but I'm starting to think if nothing has happened by now, maybe the two of you weren't meant to be. I'm sorry, Senator. I really thought you and Master Kenobi were going to hit it off. I guess I was wrong."
Padmé realized how much it took for Dormé to not only apologize for her actions, but to admit she'd been mistaken. Neither were common habits of hers.
Once she had added the vegetables to the pot, turned the heat to simmer, and placed the lid on, she turned to face her assistant. Indeed, what she saw evident in the young woman's face was remorse and regret. A rare sight, indeed; and one which made Padmé feel slightly guilty, nearly compelling her to tell her friend every detail of her afternoon with Obi-Wan, how they had cuddled, caressed, and confessed their love for one another.
But she'd made a promise not to tell, and she was going to keep it. Besides, even though Dormé was apparently sorry for what she'd done, that didn't mean she didn't need to suffer some consequences for her actions. Perhaps keeping her ignorant of their delightful progress would satisfy that requirement.
"Thank you for admitting that," Padmé told her. "I know how difficult that must've been," she added with a coy smile.
"Senator?"
It was Anakin whose head had popped into the room. "There's a comm for you. It's Chancellor Palpatine."
Padmé quickly washed her hands and dried them before answering the call.
"Good evening, Chancellor," she greeted the older gentleman. "I trust my secretary forwarded the amendments I signed earlier today?"
"Yes, yes," the man informed her in a friendly tone. "But that's senatorial business, and that's not why I've contacted you. First off, please be so kind as to reassure me that you are all in good health."
"We are," Padmé told him. "And Master Kenobi is doing quite well. He's actually feeling better every day."
"That's good, that's good," the Republic leader grinned weakly before widening the view of the holoprojector, which was starting to look more like a conference call. There was someone else in the Chancellor's office; someone who looked exactly like Master Mace Windu. "Master Kenobi's condition is why I'm contacting you, actually."
The appearance of the Jedi Master attracted the others in the room to the comm station.
"It pleases me to see you are well, Obi-Wan," Master Windu declared.
"Good evening, Mace. Is there a problem?"
The uniqueness of this communique had not escaped Padmé's notice, and she was beginning to have a bad feeling about it.
Instead of the Jedi Master answering Obi-Wan's question, the Chancellor reclaimed the floor. "There has been a serious complaint filed against your personal assistant, Senator Amidala," the Chancellor announced without further preamble. "It has apparently come to light that she purchased a dangerous substance illegal in the Core Worlds, with the intention of tampering with the health and life of a prominent member of the Jedi."
"You've got to be joking," Padmé heard her assistant mutter before she silently shushed her.
"This is quite serious," the Chancellor affirmed. "Plyridian fever has ravaged entire systems and often renders Force users such as Master Kenobi, powerless. I believe a precedent has been set, and the Jedi Council has decided to bring forth criminal charges against Dormé in light of an ongoing investigation headed by Master Windu. Some disturbing evidence has been uncovered, I'm afraid."
"This is a highly unusual maneuver by the Council, I have to admit," Obi-Wan pointed out.
"Agreed," Master Windu replied. "It took many hours of deliberation to come to an agreement on the best way to proceed, but it was decided unanimously that as an authoritative body, we cannot allow a citizen of the Galactic Republic to terrorize a member of the Jedi without repercussions."
Obi-Wan sat back and thoughtfully scrubbed his beard. "Indeed. In that case, I concur with the Council," he said after a moment, causing the aid standing directly behind him to gasp with disbelief.
"I'm pleased to hear that," the Chancellor spoke up, his eyes now narrowly focusing upon a now-retreating Dormé. "I'm quite disappointed in you, young woman. The Senator often spoke so highly of you. Senator Amidala, I will contact you at later time regarding the details of her arraignment."
Padmé didn't know what to say. "Thank you," she uttered at last.
Essentially, the communique had ended, but she had a horrible feeling the consequences for Dormé's actions had just begun.
A/N: A personal note to reader "Vel." I would LOVE to answer your questions and make comments to your reviews, but unless you Login, I can't! If you don't wish to Login to FFN, I understand, but perhaps you can email me instead? ticklesivory . fanfiction at gmail dot com Thanks!