AN:
Thank you guys for the reviews, I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter, even though you all sound worried haha! Don't worry too much XOXO
Come Out And Play
It's either black or white, that's right
We're making love or we're in a fight
Sometimes you make me so blue
But then it feels so good, I knew it would
You do the things that make me crazy
I wanna give it to you
Anakin checked his pockets for his keys and wallet. He often did this ritual, the pat down, two or three times. Paranoia grows wide in his head, just like how the wind balloons the voile curtains in his living room.
Padme, in her ivory slip dress, lounged on her beige couch, breathing in the breeze of what Anakin would call a prophet's morning. When wisemen can be heard if you listen closely to the birds – his mother would say. The universe finds a way. A way to help us, guide us, surround us. And validate us in this birds-eye view.
As a child he'd look outside his bedroom window come sunrise, thinking he'd be faster than whatever angel peered down from the skies. If one were to whisper, he'd follow their voice. And every voice has a vision.
Anakin said he'd be the first one to finally see one of these figures. And he did.
As his gaze circled back to Padme on the couch, he realized he had found one of the angels. And it was well within his rights to protect her. Any means necessary.
"Where are you going?"
She asked as she chased Anakin to the door. His hand on the doorknob ready to leave.
"To work, I told you."
Padme, who barely came up to his chin, followed the path up to his handsome face. "Can't you go a little later? Spend the morning with me." Her voice was close to whimpering, and her eyes plunged into him deeply.
"Come on, baby. Don't look at me like that." He implored, his whole body melting in her direction. "I gotta fix one of the cars."
He felt her two hands cling to his lightweight jacket. "Fix me first." She tried pulling him down to her, pressing her pelvis to his, needy, emotional...
"Wait a minute... " He held back from her. His eyes deviant. "You're almost four months along... This is about the time you're gonna start feeling a little. . .hot."
Her body displayed her delirium. It was like they had switched roles. He enjoyed her being the irrationally hot-blooded one for a change.
"How do you know that?" Multiple breaths came out all at once, almost blotting her words.
"It's in your book."
"You read my pregnancy book?"
"Of course. Well, parts of it. How else am I gonna know how to take care of you."
"Aw, that's sweet–" She lent him the most candid smile, but it was the briefest thing. Her blood was in constant circulation; she was growing helpless. This electricity penetrating through her slender body had her clutching onto him tighter. It was a crime to leave her unsated. Her tone grew more assertive, "Now take care of me."
Pleasantly surprised by her lecherous reaction, a smirk tugged at the sides of his mouth. He bent forward slightly, and out of that mouth came a sound meant to tease and neuroticize. "...Beg."
He remained remote, capable, tempting her with sapphire eyes. They illuminate her weakness, her irritation so blithely.
"Anakin—come on. Don't be an asshole now." She yanked him against her once more. He could feel her tense up with frustration. It was marvelous. Watching her fight and flounder at equal speed.
"Love you." He kissed her forehead and walked out the door before a cry could escape her open mouth.
He was already halfway down the stairs but bursting with brazenness. There was no bigger ego boost for him than to know that what awaits him at home is the most beautiful woman in the world begging him to have his way with her.
You take me high and low, you know
I'm never sure which way you're gonna go
You're such a mystery to me, oh
But baby, hot or cold, you got a hold of my imagination
I think you know what I mean
Anakin entered Ben's Diner. The hanging bells chimed as the door opened, ringing, bringing him back to earth... facing the music. The chimes alerted Obi-Wan of a new customer. Just by looking at him, Obi-Wan could tell Anakin's head was buzzing with his usual montage of theories.
Obi-Wan could count the times Anakin walked through these doors like a spring was attached to the soles of his shoes. He could count them on one hand because it wasn't often Anakin seemed unequivocally happy. Even when he walked in bold and blazing, the eyes never lie. He'd lost count of how many brooding steps Anakin actually took on the premises.
Anakin slid onto the bar stool with hunched shoulders. Obi-Wan lifted up the coffee pot to offer him some, but Anakin declined with a gentle wave. "I can't stay long, I gotta get to work."
Anakin had come here for one reason and one reason only. He wanted a sign. A sign that would expand with happiness, make him trust his intuition—or have it bend to his will. He knew what he was going to do, and the truth was whether Obi-Wan agreed or not, he was going to soar through the discomfort. So why did he still want his approval? He had made his bed of brashness... And now he wished he was lying in it. . .with Padme.
"What's going on?" Obi-Wan swiped a hand in front of his face as Anakin seemed to go adrift.
Anakin huffed, and his voice broke through all that warred within his mind. "Sebulba's offered me a deal... It's a lot of money – to get everything we need from baby cribs to high chairs."
"Is it legal?" Obi-Wan's gaze narrowed under bushy eyebrows. He always did cut right to the chase.
"Technically—"
"—It's illegal." Obi-Wan concluded to himself.
"No... " Anakin groaned, slumping forward and extending his arms over the counter, resting his forearms on the cool surface. "But it might as well be as far as Padme's concerned."
Obi-Wan knew exactly what was troubling Anakin, even when Anakin didn't say it outright. Wrinkles deepened around his soft eyes and fair smile. "Well, I wish I could help you out again, but–"
"–No, no." Anakin zapped any chance of a charity case. "You've done enough."
"Hey—no matter what, you've always got a free dinner here."
"I know. Thanks." Anakin managed a head bob, even though his stomach clenched at the thought of his debacle. He then cursed at the clock on the wall and flew to the door.
Anakin slowed his pace as he reached the entrance. He opened the door and stared at the push sign. This was it. Push through the fear. Put gratitude out there into the universe, and take stock of your life. He turned back to his big brother. "Ben?"
"Yeah?" Obi-Wan glanced up.
"I really appreciate everything you've done for me. You pretty much had to raise a bratty teen on your own. And. . .if I'm half the father you've had to be, I'll consider myself lucky."
There was no power struggle to get the words out, they came freely... He didn't want applause for his vulnerability. He had no expectation. All there was, was acceptance. Acceptance of the years between them, the blood, sweat, and tears. The squabbles at sunrise, the jokes at sunset. They made it through, but not without a hitch. And he accepted the experience for what it was and what it's worth.
Acceptance of a revealing hand, where the dominant card wins. Obi-Wan said it all the time: Anakin just needed to get out of his own way.
Obi-Wan beamed at him, forthright and positive. "You'll be great, Anakin. I'm proud of you."
Anakin arrived at the rather deserted park. It was a quiet day. The weather had coughed up too many clouds so no one wanted to come out and play. It looked like it would rain. It rarely rained in Tatooine so you'd think people would jump at the chance to revel in it. But Anakin knew all too well what prevented the people's dance in the drizzle. The sand. The entire town turns into mud, literally. And the mud never leaves. It sticks to your shoes and car tires and follows you home.
He found Aayla by a food truck about to open up shop. He asked her if she had seen Sebulba, and she pointed to three cars parked beside the race track. Sebulba was getting into a Plymouth Barracuda – the car Anakin was here to repair. Sebulba loved collecting discontinued vehicles.
Anakin caught up with him and opened the driver's door of the classic American muscle. The atmosphere filled with the smell of washed out and worn leather. Its iconic freshness was gone. It was time to update to Faux leather. Get with the times—and get rid of Sebulba's cologne that stained the cloth while we're at it.
Sebulba's eyes shot up, almost as high as his comb-over. Perhaps he should have given his thick hair another touch-up with the hairspray, it was starting to split in two different directions. He looked like Kenickie from Grease.
"I'll do it." Anakin blurted out. Then groaned inward. He felt like an addict. Just one more hit... Then I'll grow up.
"What?"
"The rematch." Anakin swept a hand under the curls at the nape of his neck. Agitated, he scratched down, elbow in the air, trying to reach between his shoulder blades, with his eyes glued to the floor.
He was tired of himself. He felt like a Russian doll, getting smaller and smaller, losing layer after layer. A continuous battle of silences. There were less and less solutions, and more secrecy, more evasions. He told himself it was part and parcel of life. There's no art without pain. No ride without a wave. No good feeling without the ability to feel bad. If it doesn't hurt, it doesn't grow.
Somewhere there is another him. That doesn't conform. That can separate the anxieties from the man. No goal, no track record, no need to get it right. If it's meant for you, it'll come.
Anakin sometimes baffles his own self-esteem. This constant itch to conspire, to manipulate, to possess, all in the name of validation.
"Perfect." Sebulba sniggered. But something spilled out of his laughter. Something that told Anakin this would be the beginning of the end. The Hutts were becoming more involved than they'd ever been. Their "employees" showed up regularly now. Checking in really meant cashing a check. Original deals were altered again and again. This time, Sebulba seemed more in bed with them than ever. They knew to jangle shiny things his way. Miraj used to say, the more you get, the more you want. And she shamelessly jumped into the pool of gluttony.
This was not the park of dreams, of resistance, of rebellion if they continued the way they were going. It was on the verge of being seized by a handful of blaring chants and raucous, self-interested soldiers – an army of stuffed pockets.
It could not be the park he adored if it succumbed fully to the Hutt's control.
As Nietzsche said, He who fights monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.
"So long as you stick to the deal." Anakin warned. It didn't take long for him to put it all together. The Hutts wanted to buy a bigger share. "And when it's over, you leave me out of anything Hutt-related."
Sebulba fiddled with the steering wheel, unconvincingly. "Consider it done."
When Anakin got home, Padme was lying on the bed with her book, What to Expect When You're Expecting. She was reading, dreaming, counting down the months until she would see her babies.
He remained in the doorway, arms folded and leaning against the doorframe. He took in the sight of her magnetizing face and spirit until she caught him staring.
"I'm all yours." He joined her on the plush mattress. He talked slow, purring out each syllable. "And I want to give you. . .everything you want."
From the foot of the bed, he inched forward to embrace her, but she placed her foot to his chest, quick as a cat, keeping him at a leg's length. Two people can play the game, tug the rope of unattainableness. She was confident and cheeky and clear as she enunciated, "Beg."
Well played. He was dazed and dazzled and gawking at her challenge. "Oh I'm begging." He grinned. His long fingers curled around her foot and brought it to his mouth. His lips brushed along the back of her toes. She felt his tongue, caressing and wet, as he nipped and sucked on her big toe.
Her pert mouth and muscles softened, relaxed under his touch, giving him leeway to lurch forward again. He traveled up her body, kissing her smooth, serene, thighs, sending tingles rushing to her core. He knew the way to open her mind, her legs, her heart. He planted smooches over her belly before resting his chin on her silky nightgown that stands between him and the hill of her flawless flesh.
She looked down at his eyes the colour of the sea twinkling under long lashes.
"You know what I read last night?" He said, grasping the book from her hands and placing it beside them on the mattress. "Right now, the babies are about–" He gestured with his fingers a distance of about 4 inches. "this big... The size of an avocado. Pretty cool, huh?"
Pulling her in with that untarnished smile, she felt his warmth cascading across her heart. She could tell he was getting braver, allowing himself to rejoice in his elation at their growing family. Stop and smell the roses, bask in the brightness. He was strong, confident, and soulful. So soulful in voice, looks, touch. For a man who showed the world a carefree exterior, it was nice to see him finally feel that way on the inside.
"Yeah. Pretty cool." She voiced tenderly. Her gaze soaked him up while she raked a hand through his hair. This late, lazy afternoon was now adorned with a sense of blissful abandon. Worry not for the future – keep your mind on where you are now.
You make me feel so emotional
I can't let go, I'm so emotional
I'm sinking fast into an ocean full of you, oh
I'm so emotional
So Emotional - Christina Aguilera
