AN:

Ivy – Thank you! About Scintel... I cannot confirm or deny anything :D

Set Me Free

There's a feeling that's come over me

Close my eyes

You're the only one that leaves me

Completely breathless

Pressed up against his front door, Anakin interlaced his hands behind Padme's back, who leaned her body against his. Her chin rested on his chest. It was fair to say they were a little drunk on the wine they had earlier, and drunk on each other.

"That Chewie can drink anyone under the table!" Padme demonstrated the flaky giggles of someone who was tipsy. She was a little wobbly on her feet. Thankfully Anakin held her tightly. "But he sure slurs a lot. I can't understand a word he says."

"Trust me, you don't wanna know." Anakin gazed down at her, piercing into her eyes. His voice is soothing, stirring her blood flow. It makes her feel entrapped in this heavenly feeling, a reminder that these marvels and moments exist. He tipped her chin up and planted a soft kiss on her lips. It starts off sweet, tender, and they moan into each other's mouths as they savor the taste of one another. Then the kiss quickly intensifies, amplified by a jungle-like riot rumbling within them. They give their whole bodies to the kiss. They are resolute, magnetic, and thirsty for more. Her delicacy and his violence have molded, cultivating an innocuous, glorious daze.

He reached for the doorknob and they stumbled into his apartment, locking lips. He kicked the door closed behind him and toed off his shoes.

She only sees brief images of his place as they are preoccupied with their whirlpool of an embrace. It was smaller than hers – a studio apartment. They passed the door to the bathroom, and she catches a glimpse of the kitchen counter and a tattered couch.

He walked her backwards to the bed behind the couch. He plastered his torso onto hers once she falls back onto the mattress. They are spoiled with kisses that hit the very centre of their being, touching the senses that are so immense, cosmic. Until they hear the click of a lamp switching on.

There's a gleam of light to the side of their faces. And with reluctance, and hesitance, they turn to face what awaits them.

Ashoka's head had popped up behind the couch. Her hand on the lamp switch.

"Ahsoka!" Anakin blurted with alarmed eyes and a face taut with slight annoyance. "What are you doing here?"

"You gave me a key! Said I could crash here whenever it got late!"

Padme kept her eyes downcast as she is buried under Anakin, and Ahsoka's eyes look back at them like she was just as irritated with the disruption of her sleep.

"Right..." The sound that came out of Anakin's mouth was a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. "You just uh – go back to sleep." He stretched his arms up, lifting himself off Padme. He looked at Padme with sharpened, angled features, a discreet expression, like a secret language, encouraging her to play along. "Padme and I will check something in her apartment. Across the hall." Anakin pulled Padme up, conveniently placing her in front of him to hide the tent in his jeans.

Padme offered Ahsoka a graceful short wave, illustrating her embarrassment before they walked off. "Hi."

Ahsoka raised a hand with the same subtleties that depicted this strangeness – awkward and unaccustomed.

"Oh my god!" Padme whispered once they were in the hall and Anakin had shut the door behind them. She hides her face in Anakin's chest, muffling her nervous laughter. And he rests his chin on top of her head, closing his eyes and sealing his lips to suppress his own laughter.

The scene replays in her head and she feels anchored by her own self-consciousness. She looks up at him, finally registering the present and impeding the occurrence in the apartment that stiffens her with shyness.

Anakin lets out a deep breath and the steady pace of his inhalations synchronizes with hers.

"Anyway... " He said with a quirkiness, flicking her long dark tresses. He reached into her soul with a burning kiss, manifesting her peace – or just to take her mind off it as he, with haste steps, drives her to her apartment.

Padme was woken up by Anakin's phone. She could hear him grumbling to Wald on the other end of the line. He hung up with a huff before turning to her.

He pulled her close to him, fitting their bodies together like two spoons. His fingers drew circles on her arm, making her hum in relaxation.

Then before she knew it, he was up, grabbing his jeans that were slung over her dressing chair. Her eyes settled on him. And with a look he gives her generous comfort, acknowledging that he too didn't want this to dull their morning.

"I gotta go." He said almost sympathetically. "One of the cars won't start."

Padme stretched her arms out, feeling her body awaken after the sumptuous sleep spent in his arms.

"Listen," He continued as he pulls his tee shirt down. "I should be back in a few hours but if Ahsoka wants to go home before then, would you mind driving her? She doesn't live far, it's just. . .quite a walk."

"Sure!" Padme sat up as he made his way back to her. He bent down and pressed his lips against hers ever so gently. And that surreal quality of his mounts in her head – his dense, darker side is effaced when he cares for her.

"Hi." Padme breathed out as soon as Ahsoka answered the door. She held out her hand with a nervous courage. "We haven't officially met. I'm Padme."

Ahsoka took the handshake. She is quiet, reserved but her lips form a shy, friendly smile. Padme came across ensorcelling to her yet familiar.

"Listen, Anakin might be gone for a while so if you want a ride home, I'll take you." Padme assured, hoping she was doing a good job at not confusing or overwhelming the girl, but instead diminishing the awkwardness of last night.

Ahsoka accepted her offer with a nod but it didn't exactly conjure up immediate plans. She didn't mean to overlook the gesture but it might have seemed that way when she returned to the couch, inert.

Padme remained at the door, and Ahsoka knew then that she must give an answer. "I don't really want to go home just yet." Although she was admitting a deep truth, her voice only impels her exhaustion.

Padme looked closely and saw the teenager's eyes were dimmed – coiled up in a latent bubble.

"Okay." Padme considered, unwitting, inquisitional. Maybe she could extricate her from the mood and tone she hides in here. Here I go again, Padme thought, wanting to nurse little birds back to health. Instinctively, sincerely, wanting to grant them relief.

"Well I have an appointment to get my nails done." She threw out there. "You want to join me?"

Ahsoka is almost struck by the wholesome suggestion, and Padme can see the brief moment when the girl was ready to capitulate to a positive hunch.

"Thanks – but I don't have any money."

Padme sighs with a deep enrichment. "Well I do."

"Look whenever you want to go, just let me know." Padme insisted to Ahsoka while they sat side by side at the salon. "I'm sure you don't want to spend all day tied to some girl Anakin brought home."

"You say that like there's plenty." Ahsoka spoke with lucidity, equilibrium, wisdom as she noticed the confusion, surveillance, and unexpected delight written on Padme's face. "...Anakin is very private – it's not like we sit and talk about his relationships. But he's not that kind of guy. He needs to have a connection with someone. And I guess the connections he's made have never been strong enough to bring them home. And when I would ask what happened to them, he'd always say the same thing. That she wasn't the one." She chuckled with a hint of mockery.

In a way Padme was moved. It was bringing about ideas, motifs that are idyllic and romantic at the core. The idea that there are people out there who believe in the "all" or "nothing". Who give themselves over to someone, who belong to their other. She was starting to see why too. Passionate love is enriched by wholeness, closeness, devotion.

Anakin seeks real connection and is revolted by falseness. Padme has been wary of real connection. So many people debauch connection, fake connection, and dip their toes only on the surface of emotion out of self-preservation, afraid of being limpid – or maybe they just have a hankering to debauch, use, and take for their own personal gain. It must get quite lonely for those who don't offer much. Now she pitied them rather than took issue with them. Because she knows what they're missing out on.

That was another thing she appreciated about Anakin. It was all on his sleeve. He doesn't withhold what he truly thinks or feels. He is dedicated to honesty, doesn't seem to care much for mystery – ironically, it makes him mysterious. But it was a stark contrast to what she was used to. As a lawyer, you are constantly trying to gauge what the truth is, who is lying to you, what actions are genuine or deceitful. With Anakin, he is upfront. He tells you what he wants and what he doesn't want.

"He seems to really believe in that." Ahsoka mused.

"You don't?" Padme asked.

Ahsoka took a minute before she answered, looking down at her now polished nails. "It sounds nice but it just doesn't seem attainable. But I'm not like Anakin. As he says, he never wastes time being realistic."

They exchange a smile and Padme revises her own life, her own patterns, and her renewed dreams fresh out the oven, flourishing.

"Sometimes I think I'm a false realist. For my job, I have to be fairly realistic but. . .I don't think you can survive this life if you don't dare to dream a little."

Ahsoka immediately found herself liking the flow of Padme's thoughts out loud. How they were uttered with the agility of a light breeze. If Padme didn't open up often, you sure couldn't tell. She had made an effort with Ahsoka. And it became apparent, that the more you're willing to give, the stronger you'll become.

"When my parents died, I had the choice to live with my aunts or stay in boarding school." Ahsoka revealed. "I didn't want to live in a place that makes you feel homeless when you're home. So I decided to wait it out in boarding school. Then when I turn eighteen, I'll get my inheritance, and I hope I'll get out of here. That's my dream... I just. . .hope it's realistic enough."

The more Padme entered into this world, the town where struggle is part of the menu, where everyone atones the belief that to live, they must either suffer or deny and drown suffering altogether, the more she realized she had moved to the right place if she wanted to truly make a difference. "In my experience, those who don't dream, those who see the world for what it is, rarely move. But if you see the world as what you want it to be, you can aim mindfully at that, and it'll move you."

Padme found Ahsoka looking back at her, smiling in amazement, seeing herself in the words. That's what she needed. That's what every kid needs. It's what's missing in this town: hope. To be told you can... You can be set free.

"You still here?" Anakin tutted jokingly, like a big brother would, when he found Ahsoka at home. He closed the door behind him and flung himself back onto the couch beside her. He exhaled, letting all his exertions from work drip off him.

"Spent the day with Padme." Ahsoka said with her legs crossed up on the seat.

"Had fun?" Anakin rested his arm on the back of the couch, in a manner that throws the long day out into the wind.

Ahsoka nodded. "I see why you like her... She reminds me of Shmi."

"Come on. Don't say that." Anakin groaned with a scrunching of the face, and a disapproving hand wave, wanting to detract attention from such declarations. "Don't compare my girlfriend to my mother."

"Not like that – just. . .her energy, you know." Ahsoka pondered with reverence. "She's. . .kind. You don't find that softness around here much."

Both their eyes were aimed at the floor with robust contemplation. That was what was missing in his life. That soft strength. Everyone here thinks that to act cold makes you tough. But Padme had a feminine strength. She doesn't compromise her warmth, compassion, or patience for her strength; she knows strength cannot thrive without the rest.

"Yeah." Anakin agreed eventually and placed a hand on Ahsoka's shoulder, giving her a loving squeeze.

"So, girlfriend, huh?" Ahsoka teased, and Anakin playfully ruffled her hair, ruining her neat twin braids, knowing that she will demand with the utmost insistence to never touch her hair.

You make me restless

You're in my heart

The only light that shines there in the dark

And there's nothing that I wouldn't do for you

You set me free

Michelle Branch - You Set Me Free