Thank you so much for the feedback! This is a re-post of Part 5; I did decide to add some context to the beginning. I didn't want to change the structure of the story, this is still just a story about two people and their feelings but I think the additions and edits do make it a more complete story. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think everyone ;)

-Please don't change, please don't break. The only thing that seems to work at all is you.

5.

The High Jedi General…

The panic in Anakin's voice when he'd said Padmé's name as she was being taken hostage had been Obi-Wan's first indication (that month) that, yes, Anakin's feelings were not what they should be and, yes, they were affecting him.

When Anakin made the decision to abort the planned attack, despite the Senator's impassioned plea that he continue with the mission, Obi-Wan took note and filed it away to contemplate later – maybe at a time when there wasn't an important Galactic Senator of the Republic in mortal danger. But it wasn't the decision that concerned him – it was the way Anakin had struggled with it.

Aboard General Grievous' war cruiser, Anakin had impetuously bounded off after the Senator, without hesitation, hell-bent on rescue, leaving Obi-Wan to risk life and limb to rescue his droid. And when Anakin had reached her, they had clung to each other, oblivious to the fact that Obi-Wan was watching. And when he saw the way they were gazing into each other's eyes, he decided maybe he should say something to Anakin after all.

But then the enemy ship was destroyed, Senator Amidala was taken out of harm's way, the droid was rescued and they were headed back to relative safety. Did the outcome justify the means? Did success make the details extraneous? Obi-Wan wasn't sure but he felt a headache coming on and his arm was beginning to ache. 'Must've been a stray blaster bolt,' he sighed to himself. 'I think I need a nap.'

The Ambassador/etc…

Surely, it was a strong testament to her fortitude that Aala had felt only slightly out of place and uncomfortable as she followed her young padawan escort through the vaulted hallways of the Jedi Temple. Stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets, Aala tenaciously resisted the urge to stare up in childish wonder at the shining atrium as they passed underneath. Sunlight filtered through the high transparisteel windows casting an ethereal glow on the glossy marble tile floors below.

She knew she was being silly, the Jedi Temple wasn't any more resplendent than the Senate Building. At least not on the surface. But itfelt different – vital. The Senate Building felt heavy and dim, weighed down by the arguing, the greed, the endless bureaucracy. The Temple was awash of brilliancy.

She was ushered into a room where Jedi Master Mace Windu sat alone, datapad in hand. She had met him a handful of times before. He was the only one that intimidated her, if she were to let herself be intimidated. That's what she told herself, anyway. "Master Windu," she greeted him.

"I spoke with Senator Organa this morning," he answered, bypassing formalities. "He said you've been working with Republic Intelligence. He recommended you as a liaison officer but he indicated there was something more to this arrangement."

Aala took a breath, wanting to be certain how she phrased Bail's plan. "Isard has made it clear he is entirely loyal to the Chancellor and with the Security Act back on the table, and likely to pass, we felt it might be prudent to... get ahead of the game." It was apparent Armand Isard, the Director of the Senate Bureau of Intelligence, was close to the Chancellor and that gave Aala no measure of comfort. The fact that Palpatine seemed to have so much influence, so much control, was a little frightening. "Chancellor Palpatine is on the brink of unprecedented power. At SBI, if... anything... were to happen, I might be in a position to find out and notify... someone... before it was too late."

"I see."

"The idea is, what we're proposing isn't anything illicit – not yet."

"Your plan?" He sat back in his chair, regarding her.

"Be discreet, pay attention, and take advantage of any opportunity that crosses my path. Hopefully, our concerns prove unnecessary, but even if that's true, I feel I can contribute a lot more to the effort at Intelligence than as an Ambassador to Alderann."

He nodded, but at the same time, almost imperceptibly, his eyes narrowed and she tried not to fidget as he studied her. He was silent for what felt like ages. Maybe he was using the Force to assess her worthiness.

Or maybe he was just admiring the fit of her new jacket. More likely the former.

"I see no harm in having someone we know we can trust at Intelligence and I know you're capable of making reports. I'll discuss it with the Council and we'll be in touch."

Dismissed, she nodded respectfully and turned to leave. The padawan waited dutifully just outside the door and she followed him wordlessly back to the main entrance. The hard part was over. At least that's what she liked to tell herself.

From the window of her small apartment in the center of the Senate District, Aala could see the bright lights of the staging area for the clone troops, ever bright as mid-day. More clones were arriving and being deployed every week. Maybe she had been naïve, but the war was escalating far faster than she had ever imagined it would; there was no end in sight.

Sighing, Aala moved to sit down on her couch and allowed herself to close her eyes for one moment. There was more work she needed to finish tonight but she decided she could put it off for a little while longer.

Just beginning to relax, the sound of her keypad from the hallway roused her. There was only one other person who knew her key code. The door slid open and she whipped her head around, startled but happy.

"Obi-Wan," she exclaimed. An unexpected wave of relief washed over her.

"Hello." He smiled warily.

Standing, she wasted no time in going to him and wrapping her arms around him tightly. He looked like he needed a hug.

He took a deep breath and she felt his shoulders slump as he returned her embrace.

Leaning back, her eyes swept over his tired form; he looked completely worn. "I didn't even know you were on Coruscant," she murmured. Her hand grazed his arm as she loosened her hold on him and he winced.

"You're hurt," she said, concern in her voice.

"It's nothing, just a scratch."

Her brow furrowed.

"Really, it's fine."

"Alright." She conceded reluctantly. "Are you hungry? I could throw something together."

"No, just something to drink is fine." He sat down at her small square table.

"Wine? Tea?" she asked.

"Wine." Removing his cloak, he draped it over the chair, while she poured him a glass and topped off her own.

She sat down next to him at the table. "I thought - " she started, " - I heard Padmé was with you."

"She was. She was caught in a trap and captured but managed to escape - Anakin helped her."

Aala sighed heavily and rubbed her hand over her face. "She never fails to find herself entangled in the most dangerous situations. I swear..."

A sympathetic smile crossed his face. "I sometimes feel Anakin is the same way. When was the last time you saw her?" he asked her cautiously.

Aala shook her head, shrugging, "About two weeks ago, I think."

Obi-Wan frowned, deep in thought. "Does she ever - talk - about Anakin?"

Aala took a alow sip of her wine and stared down at the table. "No."

"Not at all?" he pressed her.

Aala let out a resigned sigh. "Obi-Wan, I can't tell you anything you don't already know. She might've mentioned him a time or two, but she doesn't talk about him, not to me."

It irritated her, and she was even slightly ashamed, that her sister didn't tell her what was going on in her life, but part of her was relieved she didn't have to choose between betraying Padmé and lying to Obi-Wan because if she knew anything about Padmé, it was that she didn't do anything halfway.

He was quiet for a few minutes and she watched him carefully.

"I want him to be happy. I do. But sometimes I worry his feelings have already taken him too far."

She caught her lower lip between her teeth, and chewed on it thoughtfully. It was obvious how much this was bothering him, and she didn't blame him, it bothered her too, but she didn't have any answers. Her and her sister were so different in so many ways. "I don't know. But she is an expert at finding trouble." She smiled sadly. "And Anakin, well..."

"Mmm." He agreed. "Speaking of finding trouble... I saw you at the Temple today."

"Yes." She hesitated. "I'm working with Republic Intelligence now."

"Intelligence?" he repeated, mildly surprised. "Do you have experience with that?"

Aala gave him a look. "Always the tone of surprise," she quipped. "I took some Intelligence courses at University. Intel analysis in the private sector can be quite lucrative, you know." She smiled at him. "But, I decided to use my powers for good, instead."

He sipped his wine, still clearly bemused. "When was this decided?"

"It was Bail's suggestion. And I'm, um, liaising... with the Council." She looked at him and she knew he had caught her implication. That put her right in the center of a situation that was rapidly becoming more and more heated every day. It wasn't of the obvious, violent variety, but it was trouble all the same.

"You look exhausted," she commented, eager to change the subject.

"I am. I haven't had a break in weeks."

"Go to bed." Aala inclined her head toward the bedroom. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

He nodded his agreement and stood up, affectionately squeezing her shoulder as he passed.

Sitting quietly by herself for a moment, she finished her wine, then took both glasses to the kitchen. She flipped the lights off and just as she turned toward the bedroom she caught sight of her datapad sitting on the table by the couch. She looked toward the dark bedroom then back at the datapad again. "Ohh," she sighed to herself, "fifteen minutes."

Two hours later she was just finishing the report she had been working on. Switching it off, she stood stretching. She hadn't heard a sound from Obi-Wan, he must've fallen straight to sleep. Silently, she turned off the lamp and crept into the bedroom. Obi-Wan was sound asleep and snoring softly, she smiled at the way his face was relaxed.

She shed her clothing and pulled on a thin, sleeveless sleep shirt and climbed into bed. He turned toward her as she settled next to him, his hand coming to rest over her hip. She cuddled closer, his warmth soothing and, content, she fell asleep almost instantly.

It was sometime later, but still dark, when Aala awoke again. Lying on her stomach next to Obi-Wan, she could feel his fingertips drawing imaginary lines on her back. Turning her head, she looked up at him with sleepy eyes to see if he was awake. He met her gaze in the darkness and swept his hand across her back, letting it rest just under the hem of her shirt. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"It's alright." She turned and scooted closer to him, yawning. "What time is it?"

"I don't know," he said softly.

"Mmm..." She sighed and closed her eyes, but she could feel there was something he wanted to say, so she met his gaze again.

His face was contemplative. "I wish you weren't putting yourself right in the middle of all of this. It's too dangerous."

"Good thing you weren't there when the Council decided to go along with it, then," she deadpanned.

He sighed disapprovingly.

Propping herself up, she half leaned against the headboard and her pillow to face him. "Everything that's happened, everyone we've lost, it's too much and it's about to get worse. I can't sit here and do nothing. You can't expect me to. If there's anything I can do to help end this war even a day sooner, it's worth it." She looked at him seriously. "You shouldn't worry about me."

"I know."

But studying his face, she could see the concern he felt. It was evident, etched in the lines that crossed his handsome features and it brought to the surface some of her own feelings, the ones she liked to vehemently ignore. And for the first time, she felt the full weight of this war on her shoulders. Maybe it was because she was now in the thick of it. Maybe it was because lives could depend on her, what she did. What it must feel like to be a General - responsible for so much.

I hate this, she thought to herself. The stakes were so high and now the chance of him not coming back seemed very, very real and at the forefront of her mind.

Groaning, she pressed her face into the covers and curled up against his side. "There should be a law against talking about war in bed."

"And who would enforce that?" he asked.

She grinned. It was just so much fun to tease him, he made it so easy. "The Jedi would have to, of course. 'The Guardians of Peace in the Galaxy, and all."

"I don't think it was meant to be interpreted and put to use in that way," he answered dryly.

"Ah, well." She pulled back a little, trying to make out his features in the dark and ran her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes, enjoying her light touch. "You have more grey hair."

"How can you tell in the dark?" He asked grumpily. "Does it feel different?"

"I noticed earlier. Too much stress."

He moved closer, resting his head against her shoulder as she continued to stroke her fingertips across his scalp.

"I know a great way to reduce stress," she offered suggestively but he was already pressing slow, lingering kisses to her throat and collarbone.

"Hmmm..." he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

"I'm serious, you know. It lowers your blood pressure, it's good for your heart, it can even reduce pain." She stretched letting him have access to touch and kiss more of her and pressed her hand against his chest.

"Yes, doctor," he murmured in between kisses. "Plain old-fashioned exercise is good for you, too."

"It's not - ah... the same..." His hand found it's way under her shirt, skimming over sensitive, tingling skin and illustrating her point quite effectively. "Really. This should be openly encouraged."

"You'll have to speak to the Council about that."

"I thought I was."

"I'm only one. You would have to convince the others."

"Master Kenobi," she pulled back to look at him. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"No."

"Aw, you're no fun." She smiled to herself.

"Less talking, more stress reducing." He brushed the palm of his hand over her, just there, taking her breath away and he finally kissed her lips, further limiting her oxygen supply. Talking anymore now, was out of the question.

Shifting closer, he cradled her head in his hands, his thumbs brushing across her cheekbones and he kissed her again, softly. His beard scratched and tickled at her skin a little and she pulled back after a few moments lifting her chin so he could continue his kisses along her jaw and down the column of her neck.

He pulled her half under him, and she looped her arms around his body running her hands up his bare arms, skating around the injury on his left bicep, to his shoulders and down the muscular planes of his back.

Her body tingled as his mouth moved lower and his hand glided up her side, pushing her shirt higher and, together, they pulled it over her head. His fingers returned to her body and teasingly traced the shape of her breast as his mouth moved closer to the tip. She hummed a soft sound of approval, turning her body toward him and his lips closed over her, making her breath catch in her throat. Tangling her leg with his, she held tightly to his strong frame as his hands continued to roam.

Each of her muscles tensed pleasurably as his fingertips moved deftly across her body, tying her into lovely little knots only so, later, he could undo them one by one until she came apart in his arms. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply and clinging to him as he loved her, the tension slowly building until she was desperate for more.

With her prompting, they divested each other of the rest of their clothing, and she ardently pulled him further into her. He moaned quietly as he stretched his body out over hers. Running his fingertips across the smooth skin of her thigh, he encouraged her to wrap her leg around his waist and she complied rocking her hips up into him and sighing softly.

Their bodies joined, molded together, and grasping her hip, he guided her into a slow, easy rhythm. Her eyes locked with his, and for a second the intensity in his blue-grey depths overwhelmed her. She wanted to ask what he was thinking, what he was feeling, but she couldn't catch her breath. Instead, their lips met in a soft kiss and then he turned his head, pressing his mouth to the curve of her shoulder as he continued.

Moving against him, her hands drifted down his back and she tried to slow the pace, wanting to make it last longer, afraid of losing control, falling too fast, too far.

Obi-Wan slid his arm underneath her and he urged her closer. With a swift intake of breath, she gripped his arms as every sensation intensified. He pressed his lips to her ear and she could feel his energy flowing through her. "Let go," he encouraged with a deep groan and the gruff sound of his voice spurred her on. There was nothing she could deny him. He followed her readily and consuming waves of release washed over them.

Quiescent, they held onto each other for a long time afterward, peacefully content. She felt happy and languid, drifting in and out, finally completely relaxed. At some point he pulled the covers around them and when she had the energy, she turned to her side pressing her back to his warm, solid body and guiding his arm to wrap securely around her. Lazily, his fingers brushed across her ribs and her stomach, tracing circles on her skin.

Aala gratefully relished every minute of tranquility. The Force only knew when, or if, she would have the chance to see him again. Inevitably, there were more of the atrocities of war to come for them both.

Lyrics by Matchbox 20 - Real World