Chapter 13: Padmé and the Padawan

"This," Quinlan Vos said, holding up the small projectile recovered from Senator Amidala's room, "is a Kamino Saberdart."

"Are you sure?" Mace asked, and Quinlan looked completely deadpan at the Master, his hand on his hip.

"Uh, yeah. I had to talk to a fat Besalisk in a seedy restaurant in the middle of a tourist trap. I don't just go to these places unless I know the info's good. The info is good."

Anakin chuckled at his Master's side, perhaps a bit too loudly, and Qui-Gon drove his elbow into his ribs. Anakin had never met the infamous Quinlan Vos, and the Kiffar Master was proving to be everything his Master had promised. Easy, laid back, and completely irreverent, Quinlan Vos had a rampant reputation as an incorrigible flirt, an unashamed womanizer, and a recreational alcoholic. His unique abilities made him essential to the Jedi Council, and he could always be relied on to complete dangerous undercover missions, though it was certain that he would leave explosions, unpaid bar tabs, and heartbroken women in his wake. There had been some discussion among the younger Knights of putting in their votes for Quinlan to sit on the High Council. It would never happen, but the fact that they were talking was a testament to his notoriety.

"Who uses this sort of weapon?" Mace asked, and the Kiffar shrugged.

"Assassins."

Mace groaned. "You aren't being helpful."

"Sure I am. You didn't know it was a Kamino Saberdart." Master Windu, growled, his teeth clenched, and Vos smiled brightly at the Council member's frustration, and Anakin watched the rogue Jedi closely. It was well known that Quinlan went out of his way to vex the Council; after all, he had been very close to Obi-Wan Kenobi before he died, and Qui-Gon had warned Anakin that he would feel a great deal of anger from the Kiffar. The Jedi Master had blamed the Council for his friend's death, and though the wound had healed, his resentment had not, and he took it out on them by being as frustrating as possible.

Qui-Gon smiled at the younger Master. "Did your research yield anything else?"

Quinlan grinned brightly at the taller man. "Yes, of course. It's filled with Malkite themfar, a lethal nerve toxin that works instantaneously, so it guarantees death. Missing a vital isn't a problem with this baby." He grinned, tossing it toward Mace Windu, and the Jedi leapt up out of his seat, the dart falling onto his chair, and the Master glared viciously at the grinning Kiffar. "Sorry, Master. Was filled. I thought you'd want to see it!"

"Are you quite finished?!"

"Nope!" He whipped out his holopad and with a swift flick across the screen, a map of the galaxy appearing before them. He closed one eye as if he were focusing on something very, very small, and he zoomed in on the western sector of the map. "Soooo...here we have where the Corellian Run enters the Outer Rim. And here," he pointed at a sector on the map, and it zoomed in again, "we have the Abrion Sector. And here!" He pointed to an empty space on the map. "This is Kamino."

The Council was silent for a while, each passing second making the suffering Mace Windu more and more frustrated. "There is nothing there," he growled, and Quinlan looked at the map, eyes wide with shock.

"What?! Oh no, where did it go! It was here just a moment ago!" He fished a flask out of his tunic, unscrewed the top and took a long drink from the container, smirking as the Council just shook their heads. "I swear, Masters, it must have disappeared!"

"Are you drunk, Quinlan?" Mace said tiredly, his strong fingers massaging his temples. "Again..."

"Not yet," he drawled, taking another swig from the flask, and he held it out to Qui-Gon. "Want some?"

The older Master took the container from the Kiffar's hand and drank from it as well, and Anakin began bouncing excitedly. "Master, can I have some too?!"

Qui-Gon handed the flask back to the Kiffar. "No, Anakin."

"But-"

"Hush now, the Masters are talking." Skywalker crossed his arms and pouted. He could always ask the Kiffar Master later.

"There is nothing there, Quinlan!" Mace snapped. He was ready to be rid of the rebellious Master

"I know. It's missing."

"A planet doesn't just disappear from the Archive."

"Uh, yeah they do." Mace gave up. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Reason would not prevail today. "Let's not forget the last time this happened." The room was fairly quiet before, but now, they could hear a pin drop. Qui-Gon tensed next to Anakin, and the young Skywalker stood closer to him.

"Are you alright?" he whispered, and Qui-Gon nodded, though it was clear that he was not.

"Did we forget?" Quinlan said softly, his voice tinted with bitterness. "That's alright, I can remind you. Dromund Kaas."

"Yes, we remember-"

"No you don't. You told us the planet didn't exist. You said it was just a legend, but Obi-Wan and I found it. And we found the Sith there. Obi-Wan always said that someone deleted the planet from the Archive, and this whole ordeal reeks of the same thing."

Nobody said anything until Qui-Gon quietly cleared his throat. "You said he believed the Sith did it."

"The Sith did do it, Qui-Gon. Only a Jedi can delete things from the Archive, and we have a Jedi Master that is a Sith Lord. Dooku is the only one that could have done it, unless we have someone else running around here doing the Sith's dirty work, and I really don't want to think about that."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, his breath deep and even as he calmed his nerves, his Padawan gently touching his mind as he tried to comfort him. "You believe Dooku deleted things from the Archive before he left the Order so he could cover for his Sith Master."

"That isn't my idea, Master Jinn, it's Obi-Wan's. He also spoke to Nute Gunray before he fled Coruscant, and that slimy Neimoidian slug-rat had contact with the Sith. Dooku was covering up a trail. The Sith are involved with Kamino, and we need to be there."

"You're making a lot of assumptions, Quinlan..." Mace said softly, his voice defeated.

"Yeah, correct assumptions." The Kiffar glared at the Masters. "You made me doubt Obi-Wan when we returned. You made me think that maybe, just maybe, you knew better. Your story fit as well as his did, and then he died. Dooku murdered him. Obi-Wan was right the whole time. There's something on Kamino, Masters. The Force itself is showing us the way there. We need to go."

Anakin stepped closer to Qui-Gon. "Master, he should be on the Council," he whispered, and the older Jedi chuckled softly.

"That will never happen. Quinlan has very, very vocally discussed his plans for becoming...romantically entangled on all twelve seats of the Council."

"...w-what, with the same girl?"

"Don't count on it." Anakin blushed furiously, even more so when the Kiffar met his eyes and winked at him. Skywalker threw his hood over his head.

"You wanted me to find this assassin, and we're going to find him on Kamino." Quinlan crossed his arms, appraising the Masters. "So...I'm going."

"From Kamino, the Council will not keep you," Yoda said softly, chuckling when he saw the Kiffar's face fall. "To your lost planet, you must go. Discover what is hidden, you must."

"...you want me to go?"

"Passionate, you are, about your friend. Distracted, it has made you. The discovery of the assassin, your task has always been."

"...well damn it." The Kiffar sighed, running his finger over the gold band tattoo on his face. "I wish I knew that before I got in here, I wouldn't have asked to go." He bowed deeply. "I apologize, Master Yoda. I didn't mean to waste your time. I just wanted to waste everyone else's."

"You don't need to try to do that, Quinlan," Mace drawled, and the Kiffar grinned widely.

"Aw, Mace, I didn't know you cared!" He pointed to the comlink on his wrist and silently mouthed 'call me,' and Windu just groaned. He came to expect this from Quinlan, and he couldn't possibly care any less at this moment.

"Qui-Gon," the weary Master Windu said, and the older Jedi turned his dark blue eyes on him. "You will continue to protect the Senator until the assassin is dealt with."

"That was the plan."

"She is being sent to her home on Naboo. Coruscant seems like a dangerous place for her at the moment."

"With all due respect, Master, any place is a dangerous place for her."

"I know..." Mace sighed. He had enough of confrontational Jedi for the day. "But she has been convinced to return by Chancellor Palpatine. Not by me, so just...can you just make something easy for me today? Please?"

Qui-Gon bowed deeply. "As you wish. Anakin and I will prepare to depart. We will be ready to leave this afternoon."

"May the Force be with you...please, take Quinlan when you leave..."

Smirking, the stalwart Qui-Gon took the Kiffar by the arm and led him out of the Chamber. "You know," he drawled, watching the notorious tracker yawn, "going out of your way to anger the Council isn't the best idea. They are in charge of where you're sent."

"True, but I've found that the more angry they are, the further away they send me. Longer missions make me a happy Jedi."

"How can you want to be away from the Temple for so long?" Anakin asked softly, and the Kiffar laughed loudly.

"Oh, Qui-Gon, where did you get him?! He's so delightfully delicious! You do have a type, don't you?"

"One could say that, yes."

"Master Quinlan!" The Kiffar turned his lazy gaze to young Anakin Skywalker, an easy smile sliding on his face. "Master Quinlan, when do you leave for Kamino?"

"I don't know...when I want to, I guess."

"C-can we spend time with you?"

"Anakin," Qui-Gon softly chided. "Quinlan needs to prepare for-"

"No I don't." He grinned, leaning in toward the suddenly blushing Padawan. "Your place or mine, Skywalker..."

"Mine," Qui-Gon said softly, sighing heavily as he diverted the two Jedi down the hall toward his rooms. "I can't take you anywhere, Quinlan."

"I'm making it a tradition to seduce your Padawans, Jinn! Don't get in the way of such a beautiful thing."

"You're trying to tell me that you seduced my Obi-Wan?"

Quinlan threw his hands in the air. "Woah, sorry, I didn't know he was yours."

"You know what I meant."

"...no, I didn't succeed with him, but it wasn't for lack of trying. He always was too good for me." Qui-Gon punched in the code to his room, the door sliding open with a soft hiss, and Quinlan walked in, flopping on the bed as if he owned the place. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and for a moment, Anakin had thought the Kiffar had fallen asleep. "He was always going on about some girl anyway."

"Satine," Qui-Gon said softly, lowering himself on to the bed next to Quinlan, his deep blue eyes far away.

"Mm, yeah, that's the one." The Kiffar propped himself up on his elbows and looked intently at Anakin, an interested, wicked smile slowly coming across his face. "Oh, Skywalker..."

"M-master Vos?"

"You been with a girl, Skywalker?" The Padawan's breath caught in his throat, and Anakin laughed nervously, high pitched and strained, and Quinlan grinned like an idiot as the teen squirmed. "Oh, you poor thing..."

"Anakin, will you get our things ready for the mission?" The Padawan jumped to his feet and quickly ran to the closet, grabbing two backpacks and starting to collect their things, but he kept his attention on the two Masters. Quinlan was said to have been the person closest to Kenobi before he died, and while Anakin did have an interest in his Master's former Padawan, he was more interested in Qui-Gon's road to healing.

"So Antar 4 was a mess," Quinlan drawled, and Qui-Gon flopped back onto the bed and groaned. "I was in the Outer Rim when it happened, and I heard about it way out there. People are pissed."

"I'm well aware, yes...things have not been good for the Order or the Republic. Knowing the right thing to do has been difficult, the Force has been turbulent and disturbed."

"Has it? It's been clear to me." Vos looked the older Master over, and Qui-Gon looked weary, his proud featured marked with grief and the strain of these difficult times. "...how have you been?"

"Well enough." Quinlan reached out and flicked the Master's ear, Qui-Gon hissing and glaring at the Kiffar, his features softening when he saw concern on the tattooed face. "...I was able to put it away for a while, but recently, there has been so much happening, and-"

"He's everywhere, I know. I feel it too. Master Yoda says that we become one with the Force when we die, and I heard you're studying how to manifest consciousness after death. Maybe the Force is allowing him to speak to us now."

"Obi-Wan never had the chance to learn what I am studying."

"I'm not saying he did. I'm saying that the Force is bringing him to us." Quinlan shrugged. "I've never been one to do things in the Jedi Way, you know that. Kenobi never died to me, I talk about him all the time. I talk to him all the time. The Masters say I'm not letting go, but I say they can shove their stodgy opinions up their asses."

Qui-Gon smiled sadly, and Anakin could feel his presence in the Force tremble. "He would know what to do. If he were alive to continue, we would have already ended the Sith."

"He was very close to finding the identity of the Sith Master. Maybe that's why Dooku killed him."

"Master?" Anakin asked softly, hands behind his back and head bowed respectfully. He hated to interrupt, but the pain in his Master was more than the Padawan could stand. "Everything's packed. We can leave whenever you're ready."

"What, so soon?" Quinlan asked, feigning hurt, his brown eyes mischievous. "And here I thought you wanted to spend time with me, Skywalker."

"Trust me, Master, I do, but our missions-"

"Your Senator isn't going anywhere, and neither is Kamino." He paused, eyes shifting. "At least, I hope it's not..."

"I don't want to keep the Senator waiting, that's all," the Padawan mumbled, and Quinlan grinned wickedly.

"Oh, Qui-Gon! He's adorable! Seriously, what's with you taking Padawans that go around getting attached to nobility?"

"Padmé's just a friend, and it's been ten years since I've seen her, I barely know her!" His voice was much higher pitched than intended, and Anakin flushed deeply as the Kiffar looked over him, a lazy grin on his face. The Master knew, of course, they always knew...

"But you want to know her, in more ways than one, I bet!"

"Not helpful, Quinlan," Qui-Gon admonished, and the Kiffar just laughed.

"My Master tried to discourage me too, Skywalker, as I'm sure Qui-Gon tried to discourage Obi-Wan. It doesn't work, you know."

"You needn't remind me, Quinlan Vos," Qui-Gon sighed, pinching his nose and slowly rising to his feet. "I was young once too. I rivaled you in terms of outright stupidity, but fortunately, I outgrew it."

Quinlan laughed loudly, standing as well and patting the elder man on the back. "I won't be outgrowing that anytime soon. With any luck, I can drink and whore myself into an early grave."

"Don't even joke about that..."

"Look, Skywalker," the Kiffar draped his arm over the teen's shoulders, and Anakin flushed, looking up into his smirking face. Anakin wasn't a short man, but everyone around him was absolutely towering. He wondered if the Sithkiller had been this physically imposing as well. "You like this girl?" Despite himself, Skywalker slowly nodded. "Fine, like her. Love her, if you're inclined to, just don't be stupid about it."

"A-a Jedi isn't supposed to-"

"I know, I know, no love, got it. That's what I do. But my good friend Obi-Wan loved his little Duchess until the day he died, and his emotions for her didn't poison him, they kept him noble and honest, and he could do it because he wasn't an idiot. Are you an idiot, Skywalker?"

"Force, I hope not."

Quinlan shrugged. "You only live once."

"...I just...don't even know her anymore..."

Quinlan smiled. "You trained him well, I think. At the very least, he's not totally stupid, but Force, you've made him as uptight and boring as Obi-Wan." He stretched his tanned arms up in the air. "You're anxious to get going, I know, and I have to get to my missing planet. I'll contact you if I find anything."

Qui-Gon looked at him curiously. "Aren't you supposed to contact the Council?"

Quinlan shrugged. "You're more fun to talk to." The Kiffar grinned, waiving as he left and winking at the Padawan, and Anakin felt the color rising in his cheeks.

"He's...different," Anakin said softly after the door had closed, and his Master nodded.

"He certainly is." Skywalker frowned, looking his Master over, sensing his unease.

"Master?"

"I wonder if Satine ever knew how he felt...I certainly didn't." He laughed bitterly, shaking his head, his long hair slipping over his shoulders. "I learn more and more about him after he's dead. These are things I should have known while he lived..."

"Maybe...it's better if she doesn't know," Anakin said softly, and his Master's dark blue eyes fell on him. "I mean, now that he's gone...if I loved someone and found out she died, I don't know what I'd do."

"Hopefully you'll be smarter than me on that count, Anakin. I nearly fell to the Dark Side for exactly that."

Anakin Skywalker smiled. "That certainly won't happen to me, Master."

Anakin sat in a chair, his ankle crossed over his knee, staring intently at his datapad while Padmé paced furiously back and forth between her closet and her bed, tossing things carelessly into her bag. Master Quinlan had been right. Master Qui-Gon had been right. Everyone was right but him. Anakin knew his feelings for Padmé were purely lust, childhood fantasy turned into daydream and tarnished by teenage hormones, and he would control himself, deal with the matter...privately, if necessary. He wouldn't expose his childhood friend to this lack of dignity.

He wasn't like Quinlan. Though he was driven by thoughts of Padmé and him discovering physical pleasures together, he knew that wasn't what he wanted. He didn't know what he wanted, but he did know he wanted more for the Senator, and expected more from himself. So he would take the advice of the two Masters. Like Quinlan said, he wouldn't be stupid. Like Qui-Gon said, he would understand that the years change people. He was up to his ears in a hormonal drive for sex, and that was tainting what he actually wanted. He wanted to get close to Padmé. He wanted to really get to know her. He wanted...friendship. And while he sought to control himself, he was going to study.

He ran his finger over the datapad, starting the choppy, cobbled together holovid again. It was the recording from Kabal, and everything was shaky, confused, much of the footage coming from the personal datapad recordings of the rioters and frightened news crews. He couldn't see much, but what was there was chilling. The rapidly spinning, deadly lightsabers of the cyborg known as Grievous cutting toward the Jedi, the Knights holding rank behind the Master, the singular Padawan being quickly cut down, the swift slice that clove one Jedi nearly in two, the Knight that had bled out on the ground from the gruesome hole left where his arm should have been. The death of the other knight was not shown on the recording, and the holovid cut right after that, the mob scattering as a black hooded figure dropped down to the ground, the cyborg advancing on the lone Jedi Master.

Anakin frowned at the screen, tuning out the sounds of Padmé's frustrated ranting to her handmaiden. The Negotiator. Anakin realized that this may have been the only case of the elusive Separatist agent appearing on a recording, or at least on a recording that the Jedi Council had access to. A great many Jedi believed that the Negotiator was Sith, but there was absolutely no evidence to support it beyond a general feeling of unease and the shocking change of heart of the governments that he visited. It was possible that they were wrong, that the Negotiator was simply exactly what his namesake implied, a skilled negotiator, but Anakin didn't think so. His cyborg was all the evidence he needed.

Grievous could wield up to four lightsabers at a time, and his proficiency with them was masterful. Skywalker couldn't see if it was programmed or trained, but he suspected that it was both, and the cyborg managed to seamlessly transition between six of the seven forms of lightsaber combat. Grievous needed a teacher; that level of mastery could simply not be achieved by a machine. It didn't leave many options to where Grievous got his training. Dooku could have certainly done it, but it was a very real possibility that the Negotiator could have provided training for the cyborg as well.

Padmé's restless pacing and her furious energy finally got to the quietly studying Jedi. Clearing his throat, he quietly asked, "Is Naboo really so bad? I remember it as extremely beautiful."

"It is that bad!" the Senator snapped, and Skywalker reeled back slightly at her ferocity, and Padmé exhaled sharply, grabbing her hair and swiftly braiding the thick, brown mane. "I should be here. The Senate is voting on the Military Creation Act, and I won't be here for it. I'm an important part of the alliance against the act! I need to be here!"

"Don't you have people to stand in for you?"

"Yes, but it's not the same! Presence is very important, and I carry a lot of weight in the Senate!"

Anakin smiled softly. "I didn't know you were so important here. You really care about all these...politics, huh?"

"You should too. The things that happen in the Senate effect us all, even the Jedi. Especially the Jedi. You serve the Republic, after all." Anakin's eyes were wide and attentive, and the Senator sighed. If the younger man understood, he didn't show any sign of it. "If this act passes, then the Republic will have a standing army. War will be a certainty."

"I thought war was already a certainty, shouldn't we have an army so the Separatists don't just come in and smash the Republic to pieces with their droids?"

"No, war can still be avoided! We're trying to talk things out. If we have an army-"

"The Separatists already have an army, I have been told."

"They do, and we can use that to our advantage." She took a deep breath and sat on the bed, her hands folded in her lap as she tried to calm herself. "...nobody wants war. We're actually keeping a lot of our allies because right now, the Republic looks much more peaceful than the Separatists. We are willing to talk. They are ready to fight. See?"

Anakin smiled. "I understand."

"Do you?"

The Padawan nodded. "It's like the difference between the Sith and the Jedi."

The Senator slowly smiled, inching toward the edge of the bed to be closer to the teen. "I know the Jedi. I don't know the Sith."

Anakin grinned widely. Never did he think that he could have told Padmé something that she didn't already know, the woman was shockingly intelligent. "The Sith are the ancient enemies of the Jedi. We're dedicated to peace and harmony and study of the Force, but they are...different. They use and embrace the Dark Side of the Force. We're taught the Force is our companion and ally, and the Sith see it as a tool, or a weapon to be used. They seek war and crave violence."

Padmé was grinning now. "That is exactly what we're dealing with now! We're trying to keep the Republic together. The Separatists are trying to tear it apart. You see how we cannot have an army?"

Anakin nodded. "I understand, yes. I think it's...very noble of you. To try and keep the peace, I mean. I can see how leaving would frustrate you."

"I just...don't want to be hiding while others do important work. It feels like cowardice."

"Master Qui-Gon always says that sometimes, it takes great strength to do nothing."

"You would advise I do nothing?"

"Well, no, but..." Anakin took a deep breath, averting his eyes from her angry ones. "To me, it seems like the easy path is the one the Separatists took. They raised an army. It would be easy for the Republic to raise one to match it. It's much harder to sit without one, isn't it?"

"W-well..."

"It's easy to strike a man that struck you first. It's hard to stay your hand." Anakin shrugged. "I struggle with that too, but Master Qui-Gon always says it, and he's very wise."

Padmé stared at the Jedi, her big brown eyes seeming to burn a hole right through him, and Anakin had to look away again, though he could feel her intensity through the Force. "...I don't like it, but you're right." She laughed, a sweet, melodic thing that seemed to float through the air, and Anakin felt himself grow warm. "You really have grown up, Anakin. When did you get so wise?"

The Padawan blushed deeply, felt his heart race. "I-it's not me, it's my Master..."

"Do you like it?" she asked sweetly. "Your Jedi training, I mean."

"Each and every second." The response was immediate, instinctual, and honest, a big grin on his face as he saw a chance to talk about his training. "Master Qui-Gon is powerful. He's getting older, yes, but time has only made him stronger. And he's so wise! He'd be on the Council if he wasn't so...him." Anakin's face brightened, his chest puffing with pride. "But I wouldn't change him for anything. We're a good fit."

She smiled softly, but Anakin sensed something...off about it. "It's so good to hear that you're so happy. You seem so close."

"He's like the father I never had." He reached over and took her hand, a reflexive action of his when he felt of sadness and grief. He took Qui-Gon's hand often, the physical contact comforting to the older Jedi, and it allowed the Padawan to directly use the Force to sooth his Master. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes, of course..." She looked away this time, wiggling slightly as she felt the teen's eyes on her. "...do you remember Obi-Wan?"

Anakin held his breath and nodded. "I don't remember him, but we talk about him a lot. He's responsible for a lot of what the Jedi know about the current Sith. And Qui-Gon is..." Anakin shook his head, his grip on her hand tightening. "He took his death very badly. They weren't on good terms when he died, so..." Padmé bit her lip, her emotive eyes getting wetter, and Anakin faltered. She smiled sadly and shook her head.

"I'm sorry. That's just so awful. I knew things between them were tense, but I didn't know they were bad." The Senator sniffled and put her other hand over his, the teen slightly flushing as she did so. "Really, I'm so happy you and Qui-Gon get along so well. It was difficult seeing Obi-Wan struggle against him."

"...I didn't know you knew him well." At this, the Senator flushed deeply and averted his eyes, and the Jedi could feel the grief intensify, and underneath it, Anakin could sense want and longing. "You and I spent a lot of time together ten years ago, so..."

She laughed softly. "We did, didn't we? But you were so...young. Nine and fourteen is such a big difference."

"...nineteen and twenty four isn't so far."

"No, it isn't. But at the time, you were just a child. And Obi-Wan was..." She sighed wistfully. "He was one of my Jedi protectors. And he was soft spoken and noble and so handsome." Anakin thought he would be jealous, but he just felt kinship with Padmé, and he laughed, the girl flushing deeply, a pout on her face as she let go of his hand. "It's not funny, Anakin!"

"No, no, it isn't!" He ran his hands over his face, trying to stifle his giggles. "I just thought...you and I were doing the same thing."

"...you thought Obi-Wan was handsome?"

"What? No! No, I...I-I thought you were beautiful. The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen!"

Padmé smiled, something devious in her eyes, and Anakin felt the heat rise. "And now?"

The Jedi laughed nervously. "That goes without saying, doesn't it?"

She grinned. "I suppose it does." The Senator sighed, a faint smile on her lips. "I...suppose Obi-Wan was one of my first loves. Not the first, I was in the Legislative Youth Program when I was twelve, and I met a boy named Palo."

"You were twelve?" Anakin snickered, and Padmé looked at him pointedly.

"You were nine."

Anakin flushed deeply and averted his eyes. "Point taken, Senator Amidala."

"Obviously, it was just a childhood love, but it was the first. Then there was Obi-Wan."

"More of a crush?" Anakin couldn't decide if he wanted that or not. This was...confusing for him.

"Perhaps at first...a very severe one, at the very least. Even after the battle on Naboo, I thought about him often. I know he's a legend to you Jedi, but to me, he was...sweet. He taught me a little about the Jedi and the Force, and I always hoped he'd come back to teach me more."

"...I-I could teach you a little bit..."

She smiled brightly, and Anakin felt his heart skip a beat. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

"So...that was it?"

Padmé's face tightened with pain, and she slipped inside her own mind. "No...I saw him once again, two years after. I was a bit older and he...well, he wasn't the same man. He was...bold. Charismatic. Still sweet, still Obi-Wan, but there was something wilder about him, and..." She flushed deeply. "I shouldn't be telling you about this..."

"No, you absolutely should. I really, really want to hear this." Padmé looked at him curiously, her thin eyebrow high as she regarded the Jedi, and Anakin felt himself flush slightly. "I've been helping Master Qui-Gon recover from his loss, and I've found myself really interested in him. Please." It wasn't a lie, not completely. He did want to know as much as he could about the Sithkiller. After all, one day, he'd be a Sithkiller himself. He needed someone to aspire to, and if he could grab the affections of Senator Amidala in the process, well...that was a burden he'd be willing to bear.

Anakin shook his head. Friendship, Anakin! Friendship!

"It was a crush when I was young," she began slowly. "But when we saw each other again, I was sixteen. I was old enough to want something...different. You understand?"

"Oh, I absolutely do."

"I don't know if it was love, or just want and need, but when he died...it sure did feel like love." Anakin took her hand again, and she did not pull away. She was sad, yes, nostalgic even for her lost Jedi Knight, but the wound had healed. She had scars on her heart, but she had moved on.

They hardly moved when Qui-Gon came in, haggard and tired and clearly frustrated. "Come on, we're leaving."

Anakin smirked, standing from his seat and helping Padmé up. "You seem unbalanced, Master."

"I just heard it from the Temple Knights. They are upset that they were called to guard Padmé while we were with the Council. They claim they are not babysitters, which is obviously ridiculous, since they protect younglings."

Anakin stifled a laugh, snickering behind the hand covering his mouth. "Master Drallig has been pampering them, as you've always said."

"I swear to the Force, that is the truth of it." He ran his fingers through his long hair, closing his eyes and calming himself. "Are you ready, Senator? We'll be taking a public starship to Naboo to keep a low profile." She nodded.

"I was informed." She grabbed her bag from the bed, and Qui-Gon swiftly took it from her, bowing and indicating toward the door, and the Senator swept out of the room, the Master following close behind, and Anakin smiled.

He and Padmé were similar, more so than he believed. It seemed to him that he, the Senator, and the Sithkiller were all on the same line, doing the same things. Obi-Wan had loved his Duchess, a woman his Code kept him from. Padmé had loved Obi-Wan, who looked to another noblewoman, and Anakin...

Well, he didn't love Padmé, but he wanted her, even though she had looked to another Jedi before, and young Skywalker couldn't help but hope that one day, she may look back at him.