Author's Note: Just wanted to make sure everyone knew this is an AU.

Disclaimer: The Star Wars Universe was created and is owned by George Lucas, this is just my imagination at work, based on the universe he has created. If this story is similar to another, it's pure coincidence.

Note: Thoughts are in italics.

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The afternoon was wasted, Padmé felt, on muddling around her new home and doing nothing of importance. Based on the events earlier, she had no idea what kind of mood to expect from Anakin when he would be back home. She almost had to wonder which husband would be coming home: Anakin or Vader?

Having no idea when he would be home, she began to prepare a special mixed drink native to Naboo for her husband. Embira would be around shortly to prepare dinner for the couple. She pulled out a glass pitcher from the cupboard, turning the faucet on. Ice cold water poured over her fingers as she put the pitcher under the water to slowly fill it.

The sounds of distant footsteps came closer and closer down the hallway towards the entrance into their home. The thought that it was Anakin coming home for the night quickly left her mind; she had not expected him this early. Then again, she did not expect him at any particular time. She truly had no idea when he would arrive.

Setting the pitcher down on the counter, she made her way closer to the door. Beeps came as a result of someone punching in the pass code to enter the residency, meaning it was him.

"I wasn't sure when you would be home, I just began dinner--," she greeted him as she came around the corner, before being cut off.

"I'm in the middle of something," Vader directed, pushing right past her and into his office.

"Oh, okay," she muttered, quietly making her way back to the fairly small kitchen. Memories of the kitchen back at her home of Naboo flooded her mind. It was big and open, the sunlight gently coming through the sheer-covered windows. An island sat in the middle, her mother always chopping something up for dinner, lunch, breakfast, a snack; even a few meals that Jobal made up as an excuse to cook.

Looking at the dark, enclosed kitchen that she was now standing in brought tears to her eyes. Padmé knew there was a possibility that she may never see her family again - at least, if it was up to Vader it was possible.

As she began to juice a Nabooian fruit for the drink she was preparing, Vader came out from his office. He walked directly to the bedroom, as she could hear rustling in the closet.

He's home for the night.

He walked in the kitchen, not smiling or frowning - but also not expressionless. He looked like Anakin. Padmé smiled as she turned and looked at him.

"I hope you feel like a dragonet casserole tonight," she told him as she placed the pitcher in the cooler to chill it.

"I didn't know you cooked," he commented. Though Jobal was such a wonderful cook, that gene had not been passed on to Padmé. Rather, Sola was the chef of the two.

"I don't," she grinned, pointing to the menu Embira had made for the week.

"Oh, oh, right."

Anakin was across from her, leaning on the kitchen counter. He did not say anything, though something was definitely on his mind.

"What is it?" Padmé asked as she embraced him, resting her head on his chest.

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I said it was nothing!" Vader shoved her away from him, his anger coming to the fore. Padmé was terrified.

If something that little makes him that angry...

Her thoughts lead to horrifying imagery, as she took a seat at the table. Her back was facing him; she did not even want to look at him now. This is not a time to be weak, she told herself.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, taking a seat next to her.

"No," Padmé began, but she was interrupted before she could continue.

"Padmé, I'm not lying," Anakin insisted, rubbing her arm with his hand.

"Anakin, saying you are sorry does not make it all better - lying or not," she told him, standing up.

"Well it's going to have to make it better, I have work to do. I don't have time to feel sorry for you."

"I'm not asking for your sympathy, Anakin! I don't believe you are even capable of such a thing!"

He stormed out of the room, going in his office and slamming the door. Padmé collapsed into the chair, sighing somberly and holding back the tears.

- - - -

The conversation at dinner was stale, not a comment coming from either person. Fidgeting in her chair, Padmé felt uncomfortable. Yet, she did not want to speak to him. Wanting to be the bigger person, however, she knew she had to.

"So, did everything go alright today?" she inquired, working to break the common ice between them. Vader nodded.

"Everything was fine. If you insist we talk, I don't want to talk about work."

"Well, what else are we going to do? I'll take any suggestions. I seem to have to do everything," Padmé replied, her voice fading.

"I have a suggestion, Padmé. Get used to this," he answered, gesturing around. "This is your life now. I'm sick of fighting you on everything."

She did not answer him, for fear he was right. She did fight him on everything, though her feelings did not matter to him. She knew there was no way out. At least, no permanent way out. This was her life now.

"You're right," she mumbled, leaning back in her chair and looking down at her lap.

"What?" Vader replied, though he heard her. He was just shocked.

"You're right, Anakin. This is my life now," Padmé repeated gloomily.

"You make it out to sound miserable."

"Maybe it is."

"It wouldn't be. All you have to do is accept that this is it, Padmé. You're with me; I'm with you. Nothing else should matter," he told her as Embira took their plates away.

She had heard it so many times before. It was so simple. This is what she wanted all along; though not exactly how she envisioned it. This was her only chance to be with him. The love of her life. Suddenly, being an Imperial didn't hurt so much. As long as she was with him.

Nothing else mattered.