AN:
Cheire – Yeah I agree with all of this. It might do them some good :D
Guest – Good point!
Angie – Thank you. Yeah, we'll have to wait and see..
Guest – Interesting observation! yeah all I can say is it'll be a journey :D
Folded Life
Clovis appeared at the door of Vallorum Law Firm. His meek manner belied his typical faculties of superiority. Drooped shoulders, an expression rimed with sensibility. Was he coming to her with his tail between his legs out of remorse for throwing a spanner in the works? Or was this another grand scheme, a lawyer's razzle-dazzle to lure out a confession?
She decided it didn't matter. It didn't matter when his words traveled over the noise in her head.
"I wanted to stop by to say goodbye. I'm leaving tomorrow morning."
A gentleness morphed her features, her once flattened lips now offered a slight curl, a reprieve. She was glad in a way – that he was leaving, that this was all over. She needed something to slew away the drama studded with pastels of past glamour. "Wish you a safe trip."
Clovis bent down his head out of respect, a mirage of failed attempts clanged in his head. It was written on his face that he had accepted his place of defeat. But he didn't have the quality of someone defeated. He was rather pleased as he laid a warm hand on her shoulder. It didn't feel like a loss to him. "If you ever change your mind, see you in Coruscant."
It was a boon to her to stare down at the floor, she found a steadiness at the soles of her feet.
Clovis' voice interrupted that steady peace with a "Bye Hermione." Those words sped to Hermione behind the reception desk like cryptic arrows.
The words did not come from a place of professionalism – they were friendly, too friendly, a rapport that had Hermione tallying up her connections. The interaction pulled at Padme's gaze, curious, face tightening with concentration.
"Hermione... "
Once Clovis had left, Padme started toward the desk. Hermione had her share of juvenile tendencies but never quite as outlandish as this. Something about this interaction was sneaky.
Vallorum had strict rules for his employees. He expected the best presentation. Sometimes it seemed presentation was more important to him than anything else. Dorme used to joke he'd rather a cake look good than taste good. Hermione was warned about taking long phone calls during working hours or not sticking to the designated cigarette breaks.
But wily Hermione had found a way to bend the rules. And while Padme has certainly learned of some of the benefits to rule-bending, she was suspiciously tuned into Hermione's behaviour as she tracked the seemingly not-so-coincidental commotion through the week.
"You want to explain to me how Anakin and Clovis were able to barge into my office, and even take things from my desk?"
Hermione had an air of solipsism behind her desk. She twisted her head around to stretch her neck. Why should she fill the role of security? Yes, they had been understaffed but what was she supposed to do? Hold grown men back?
But Padme was growing tired of the lack of teamwork. Hermione leaving her desk unattended, disappearing when she needed her most, the secretive phone calls.
While one thought chased another, an eerie sense, a boldness clicked, incorrigible patterns taking on another meaning. Padme almost cursed the image facing her right now, cursing herself for not dissecting the situation sooner.
"How did Anakin know Clovis was here?"
Hermione circled around the question and Padme's eyes narrowing in on her—waiting for a response.
"Did you call him?"
After a couple attempts to tip the tension off the slopes with relaxed body language, a wimpy voice came out. "He asked me to."
Mock disbelief and frankness was all Padme had to give. "He asked you to? So if he asked you to jump off a bridge, would you do it?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, balancing a pen between two fingers, the ends tapping the surface of her clipboard. "Look don't blame me for the problems you're having in your personal life."
"You shouldn't have meddled into my personal life!"
Behind them was the sound of Dorme entering the lobby. Dead silence and a clinical distaste had swallowed what was left of their conversation. Padme and Hermione acquiesced to Dorme's orders. It was time to go to their corners and hang all their dirty laundry elsewhere.
Padme rolled her chair under her desk. She sat in it like it was a place for mourning, mourning for basic decency, respect. This whole thing was a mess. One big botched mess.
Dorme had a way of saying a lot with just one look. A inviolable firmness would pop out of her eye sockets, directing people's attention. She shut the window, cutting off the howling of the atmosphere outside, the cascading cries of the busy high street. She bounced back over to Padme, swooping in with her special brand of wisdom – tough love. Dorme was the personification of tough love – and she took to people's less-than-enthusiastic responses to her tough love as applause. Perhaps to her, winning an argument was a recreation.
"Look I'm not going to tell you how to run your life. But what I am going to do is be honest with you. You're jeopardizing your job right now. And you're on thin ice as it is."
Padme looked up, like this was the first time she heard how dire the situation was. She didn't really have time to process much outside of her personal life. Truthfully, she hadn't allowed herself to think about what she would say to Vallorum when she saw him—out of dread or embarrassment.
Dorme answered Padme's blank stare. "Come on. Vallorum was pissed when you lost Miss Scintel as a client."
Padme held up her arms, on guard, defensive. "I didn't lose her, she left."
"Along with a large fee." Dorme wasn't one to hesitate when spitting out truths, and she had definitely made exceptions due to how close her and Padme had gotten over the course of the year, but part of friendship was ripping off bandaids, quick and painfully honest. "And I didn't want to tell you this but when he found out who you were married to, he wasn't exactly over the moon."
"Who I'm married to is none of his business."
Dorme sighed. She didn't have to say anymore. The sigh alone let Padme know where this was going. Who Padme chose to marry was an insight into her judgment. And Vallorum was going to question it.
Dorme learned two very distinct lessons when she became a lawyer. The first one was to treat cases like a sport, the second one was if you know you're going to present bad news, at least wrap it in tinsel. Even the worst Christmas presents still fool everyone under the tree.
"Look, I've managed to talk him down most of the time. But after that outburst yesterday... I just – I'm saying this as a friend. You need to be more careful."
"Padme!"
Padme was graced with the open arms of a now sixteen year old Ahsoka running down the promenade.
Padme was the baby in her own family, but she was so used to taking care of other people that the big sister role Ahsoka awarded her came quite naturally.
Padme caught a glimpse of the cafe on the street that Ahsoka had fled to greet her. She frowned as she noticed a handshake between two boys she didn't recognize from Ahsoka's friend group. The handshake took place under the round table, and a mini ziplock bag was exchanged.
Padme turned back to Ahsoka, searching the scene for a shimmering hint of a misunderstanding. "Who are you here with?"
"Some friends from school. They're in the grade above me."
Ahsoka seemed rather disengaged, skirting around Padme's concerns, maybe not deliberately but with a lack of interest. "Ahsoka, are you sure everything's okay?"
Ahsoka nodded, but Padme's grimace showed past the faint smile.
"Want me to drive you home?" It was a ten minute walk to Padme's apartment and her car.
"Nah. Anakin's coming to pick me up now."
The name sliced through a little too neatly in her heart. Like it had been towing behind her all day and finally caught up to hook onto her chest.
At least he was alright, she thought. He's not spiraling somewhere, drinking himself silly. He's living as normal, adhering to his responsibilities to Ahsoka etc.
But it wasn't that easy to maintain the civility of this inner monologue and withdraw from the clusters of personal anguish that clasped onto a battered heart when Anakin pulled up in his white truck.
The car horn honked twice and rippled over to her. He stepped out of the truck and leaned an arm on the roof, his calling for Ahsoka shouted over the roars of the lively street. A muscle bulged in his jaw when he locked eyes with Padme. His heart was battered too and he was wearing it out in the open; it was clear from the eyes that shrunk away with disassociation.
"I gotta go!" Ahsoka waved to her friends.
Padme watched her hop into the passenger seat. She and Anakin share one authentic, indulgent look before she turns away.
As Anakin was about to slide back into his truck, he spotted Padme going to talk to the boys Ahsoka had been sitting with.
"What's Padme doing?"
"I don't know." Ahsoka shrugged, prompting Anakin to go over there.
"What's going on?" Anakin's voice surprised Padme. A bittersweetness touched the back of her neck.
Not really looking each other in the eye, they tried to conceal their feelings behind mounted walls.
She tried to sound as normal as possible. "He has something in his pocket. I think it's drugs."
Anakin followed Padme's gaze to the boy she accused. He walked over, behind the boy's chair, and warned with an intimidating murmur. "Empty your pockets."
The boy ignored him, jiggling his foot under the table. This time Anakin was more assertive. "Empty your pockets!"
Anakin snatched the bag of pills the boy haplessly pulled out and handed it over to Padme.
Padme gave the boy a lecture, threatening to send the narcotics to his school, his parents. Anakin added in a quip about making him eat the whole bag if he dared to bring it near Ahsoka. Padme bit her lip to hold back a chuckle.
As the boys fled the scene, both Anakin and Padme kept their mouths from broadening to a smile – a smile that wanted to come out and be familiar again. They gazes met, a mutual enjoyment over their victory. But the warmth soon faded into a melancholic reminder.
Because history shows. It shows on your face, your clothes, through your energy – it is a costume you can't take off. One you cannot hide with layers. It would be nice to strip down, allow the figures from the past to take their place, say their virtues, edifying... But not everyone is ready to escape their own puppet strings.
They knew their thoughts were in tandem, a metaphor, a connectedness. But they were failing to replenish. They had all the delicious sparks in the world to bring life back into their days, dreams, dances of gratitude. They had the right ingredients to make a cookie of joy, freedom, rebirth. They just kept getting the measurements wrong. They needed the right amount of sugar, the right amount of salt. It was, as all things are, a sweet balancing act.
Anakin stared at Padme with rueful wonderment. Her hair was natural, not straightened for work. He preferred it this way. Her inspirational curls revealed her true self — rebellious, full, free. He assigned to her the colours yellow and blue. The colours of home, warmth, sunlight.
After a mouth twitch, and a greedy moment of pure pining that Shakespeare could turn into a sonnet, Anakin's voice broke the quiet desperation. "Need a ride?"
A nervousness flooded Padme's features. Deep eyes and unspoken whispers dig for the root of life, for a linear narrative, of love and other tragedies, beauties, complexities. But today did not grant her the strength to weave the broken web. "No thanks. You know I like the walk."
Her smile was polite but reserved. Anakin's smile was one of disintegration. He wanted to put his arms around her and make promises that she probably would have liked. But she didn't trust herself and he could tell. He gave her a nod of acceptance, receding into the jaws of an ordinary, stumbling, folded life. Maybe tomorrow he will be given carte blanche to turn it all around – maybe with time she will follow him, and they'll be back into their world of magnificence, surrealism, wild innocence.
In my heart I had hope
Built on dreams I'll never know
Answers to love left behind
Visions filled my head
I felt so trapped instead but
Trapped didn't seem so bad
Cause you were near
Here With Me - Plumb
