Padmé asks Anakin to marry her.

"We should get married."

Padmé's face is neutral, like it's stayed the entire time they spent together. Carefully neutral, not a hint of anything that could point to love.

They're just friends, she told herself. Over and over, like her life depended on it.

But now, since Shmi and Geonosis and Anakin's arm -

Padmé meets his gaze, surprised to find him frowning. It's horrible. He must feel horrible, laying there in one of the cots laid out for the injured. His eyes search her for a long while. So long, that Padmé assumes he won't respond.

"It's not the perfect time, but I don't want to go forward without…"

For Gods sake, drop the senator act!

Her neutral falls, worry turning her eyebrows upward. She reaches out to him, brushing her fingers against the side of his face. She doesn't mind the sweat that touches her, not when his frown begins to disappear into something softer.

So handsome.

"Anakin, we're heading into war. Galactic war. And I can't keep telling myself that I'm not in love with you."

She draws her hand away, her heart aching. "You'll be sent off to fight. I could lose you." She almost did on Geonosis and the thought of doing that again, she would break. "I want to be able to call you my…my husband."

This time, his eyes go wide. "…husband?" He asks, his voice rough from days of medical treatment. And crying. So much crying.

"When you're able, I'll request you return me to Naboo, as a final act of your original mission. There, we'll have a secret wedding. It can be on the same balcony where we kissed." She'll need a dress, and a religious head that's willing to keep this from the rest of the galaxy. Someone she can trust.

Maybe…maybe her father would be willing? Yes, she'll ask her father. And they'll keep this within her family, no further.

"Padmé." Anakin's voice brings her back. He's frowning again. "We've only been together for…what, a week?"

This, she laughs at. His frown deepens into a pout. Oh, how badly she wants to kiss him. "Ani, you've been thinking of me for years, right?" He flushes, his eyes averting. "I know it's rushed and if we had more time I would take it. But we don't and I don't want to regret not taking this step."

If they fall out of love, then so be it. But she feels their connection. This isn't just some quick thing, like she and Clovis were. This is something deep, something she knows won't fade any time soon.

But what if he's not ready?

"Don't feel pressured, though." She adds much too late. "If we get married, it'll be because we both want to. Not because I do. And…" Should she even say it?

Yes. She has to.

"If you feel differently than you did, then I'm alright with that too." She'll have to be. But what rotten luck. She already regrets lying to herself while they had the whole island to themselves. All the things they could've done with that privacy…

"Yes." The answer startled her with how firm it is. "I want to marry you, Padmé. Now."

"Are you su-"

"Yes!" He starts to sit up, his reddened stump shaking with the effort it takes. Padmé reaches out to help him and he takes it easily. When he's upright, he looks at the door, then pulls her into a kiss.

She sighs into it, moving closer. It's not perfect, none of them have been. Their first was far too short, taboo. Their second was clouded with the fear of death, both her herself and for him. And this one smells of old cleaning supplies and feels rough from his cracked lips, but it's him and she couldn't ask for more.

They pull away sharply, their breath mixing between them. He's so close that Padmé can see how his blue eyes mix with a slight hint of green.

"On Naboo." She whispers. "We'll get married. You'll be my husband and I'll be your wife."

His cheeks, which are already pink darken. "My wife." He gasps the words like a quiet prayer. "You'll be my wife."

It sounds so good, she almost can't wait. But she will. She'll get the dress and tell her family. It'll be perfect.

Then, it's on to war.