AN:

Cheire – yeah exactly. Kinda hard to do either of those :D

Disgal – welcome back! Lovely to hear from you. Yeah that was a very emotional fight between them

Angie – Ahh thanks a lot! I really appreciate that! Yeah I love the scene where Palpatine reveals everything!

Guest 1 – That's true Padme is sensitive to others' feelings

Guest 2 – I don't find Jar Jar annoying. Anakin said that, not me :D I thought it's funny that he would find Jar Jar talking a lot at work annoying, kinda like how Obi-wan was annoyed by him in TPM. Jar Jar never bothered me. He serves his purpose to keep the younger audience entertained while the adults tune into the more serious scenes like politics.

Learning To Fly

Well, some say life will beat you down

Break your heart, steal your crown

So I've started out for God knows where

I guess I'll know when I get there

Anakin and Padme packed up the car in the early morning to travel to Tatooine. Anakin loved driving long distances. It was as good a distraction as music or titillating conversation. There was something about being immobile that made him vulnerable to images of death and lies and failure. So he sought activity.

Next to him, Padme caught sight of the last of the trees before they are replaced by the sand dunes that let her know they're close to town. The wind rivaled the fast car, chasing away the forest between the two places they had made a home. This very road led them back to the start, where she took her first steps into independence. The drive attenuated the noise of Coruscant and flung away all the doubt that swelled in her.

The dewy haze of the morning had evaporated. The early softness of sunlight resolved to brighten the sky and the air was fresher now they were further away from the city.

"You ever think about just taking off? Say one day, we leave the city behind, get some small place in the suburbs?" Anakin was successful at making these thoughts sound like hypothetical, spontaneous whims but truly it weighed heavy on his mind—the future, the crossroads, Palpatine's ultimatum...

Padme's soft chuckle accentuated her relaxed face. "You mean big backyard, white picket fence?"

"Yeah..." He shrugged, carefree, keeping up the allure.

"Sometimes..." She allowed herself to form a more honest reply. "Lately."

Anakin nodded accordingly. "I guess with work and bills, we can't really take a gamble."

She noticed his slip of honesty and dissatisfaction. "What if that wasn't the case?" She asked. "If there was nothing in the way, where would you see yourself?"

"I don't know. Maybe working on cars again. Or even open up my own shop... Who knows, I could start my own race track. Like those ex-racer guys in Coruscant. They're happy and. . .it's something you can do when you're old and all the new young racers will join. Start their careers. You get to be a part of the community for life. That's what it's about, right? Campbell said you're supposed to add meaning to your life. I always thought that meant do something big. Maybe it just means appreciate your life, and find fulfilllment." Feeling her eyes on him, he turned to look fully upon her. His eyes a glacial blue in the splendor of the sun. "What? That sound silly?"

"No. Not at all. You sound like you again." She said assuringly.

He was captured by her smiling at him, a reflection of their spirits. Her beauty was even more hypnotizing when possessed by happiness brought about by the freedom of the ride. A cure for restlessness and uncertainty. It gives a moment of repose... and it made him hopeful.

Well, I started out down a dirty road

Started out all alone

And the sun went down as I crossed the hill

And the town lit up, the world got still

Their first stop after settling back in their old apartment had to be Ben's Diner. Dorme and Ahsoka were waiting for them. Ahsoka's fingers tapped the immaculate white surface of the table impatiently, ecstatically. Dorme rose from the booth, swinging her olive-green nylon bag over her shoulder. "If they don't get here soon, I'll have to go back to work." But she relaxed when she saw Anakin and Padme's faces through the hefty glass doors.

The couple were embraced by a lightness that illuminated the love in the diner. Everything about the diner from the magnetic red booths and the posters on the wall with their retro color palette to the classic floor-mounted stools blocked haunting forebodings.

Ahsoka almost leaped unsteadily and excitedly over the seat to meet them, as if freed from clasping wires. They all greeted each other with hugs and festive smiles. And the customers gazed at them and all the commotion they brought about.

Joy showed through Ahsoka's deep tan features and her eyes immediately absorbed the vivid modeling of Padme's current best feature, which she and Dorme showered with gracious hands, congratulating Padme on how big she had gotten. Ahsoka even pressed her ear to Padme's belly to see if she would hear or feel the dawning of new life.

Anakin caressed the shape of Padme's arm attentively with a subtle pressure of his fingers, like a musician guarding his instrument, protective and proud.

Once seated, Padme pried into their lives and everything she had missed. Anakin went to bring them drinks. Padme examined Dorme's eyes rimmed with coal black eyeliner. Her eyelids were a secretive bronze tint, subtle enough for work and subtle enough to deceive. She was up to something, she just didn't want to share it yet. The more Padme pressed, the more coy and covert Dorme's answers were. "I don't want to jinx it. I'll tell you when everything's finalized. Now, when are you due?" She changed the subject.

"Less than a month to go." Padme rubbed the hill of her belly, turning to Ahsoka. "What about you? You're graduating soon!"

"Still heading for the city as soon as I get my inheritance." Ahsoka said pleased, feeling unique. "Actually, I uh I came across this–" She pulled out a leaflet from her mustard yellow backpack. "It's a modeling agency. The contract's pretty decent. They pay well, put you up in a hotel. . .and there's many options: hand modeling, hair. . .swimsuit—"

Anakin placed a tray of drinks from the bar on the table. He didn't sit. He immediately said, "No," as he came and stood beside Padme with his hand on the back of the booth. He laughed almost mockingly, but Ahsoka did not share in his laughter. Her face flushed with offense as if already prepared to go to war with him over this.

"You haven't even heard me out."

"I don't need to. You're not doing it."

Shaking her head as she listened to exactly what she expected Anakin's reaction to be, she then tried urging him to reconsider. "It's perfectly decent!"

"Ahsoka." His voice rose slightly with forthrightness. "There will be no half-naked modeling in a bikini."

Ahsoka groaned; on the inside she was screaming loudly. But Anakin dismissed it, bending over to whisper to Padme that he'd go out back to find Obi-Wan. He walked away with cool eyes and nonchalance. That nonchalance irritated Ahsoka even more. She envied it and hated it. Hated how he obtained it. How he had to get his way and everyone had to submit.

Laden with exasperation, Ahsoka mumbled under her breath. "Good luck to Leia..."

"I'll talk to him." Padme squeezed her hand, highlighting her promise. "Don't worry, he'll probably get a kid just like him. It'll be his karma."

At the back of the diner, Obi-Wan grabbed boxes of supplies. He unloaded them from the truck and brought them down beside a rusty ladder. His worker's hands were concealed in their brilliance and dedication. They looked quite delicate for the type of work he was doing. It seemed rare that a man could have soft fingers that commit to such strenuous labour.

Anakin watched him a moment before joining him. He could already read the ironic expression, the firm design of his nose, his mouth. Old Ben was concentrating on every box he lifted off the truck. That truck still hanging in there... It was great to see Threepio again.

When Obi-Wan returned the gaze of his brother, he stood to his full height and a smile was slow to unfold yet inevitable. He breathed out deeply, expanding his chest wide after all the lugging around he did.

They weren't the hugging type. Sometimes it was their way of pretending nothing was ever wrong. Sometimes it was their way of protecting one another. They acted like no time had passed and much was said in Obi-Wan's gently serene eyes and Anakin's less arrogant ones. He had come back home humbled.

"Hello stranger."

Anakin grinned at him and seemed to bow his head in respect.

"Here, make yourself useful." Obi-Wan handed Anakin a box, putting him straight to work. "So, how's city life?"

"Good." Somewhere between box shuffling and shattered eye contact, a portal to real conversation emerged. "Actually. . .lately, I've been thinking that the job I'm at maybe isn't the one for me." Driven by a mood of exile, Anakin really wanted to share his heart's continually altered roadmap, blurt out the assignment his boss had given him. One that would he would regret doing and one that would chase him for the rest of his life he didn't do it.

"The one where you're making all that money?"

"Yeah, the money's good – it's. . .real good. But sometimes I wonder if I'll ever stop needing a safety net."

Obi-Wan, ever-prophetic and principled, did not ask many questions. He needed no adornments, no bribes, no gossip or courtship. He believed people ultimately knew what to do; they just didn't like hearing it. He picked up more diner supplies, his hands now coated with dust, and he still designed the cleanest form of mediation – adding mileage to the already lengthy quiet so Anakin would continue to speak, yield his feelings gradually and organically. Unfortunately, Anakin said no more words. It was as if he caught himself and quickly tucked his secret world back in its locker and reverted to a spotless mind.

Obi-Wan was not going to press Anakin. The more he did, the more Anakin would retreat. There was only person he should be having life-changing conversations with anyway, and mentioning her definitely stirred Anakin. "Have you talked to your wife?"

"I can't." Anakin hadn't even realized that he had stopped gathering supplies. He stood as though he were looking at some imaginary dot on the distant ground.

"Why not?" Obi-Wan stopped to take a sip of a water bottle.

Now Anakin rounded Threepio, hiding behind the remaining boxes as he became enveloped by rigors. "Because it won't help. She'll be all, do what you feel is right, I'll support you."

"You're right, you can't talk to her. She sounds terrible." A wry smile appeared on Obi-Wan's face, and Anakin shot back at him a look as though he was stuck in a desert of endless insomnia.

"It's just not that simple."

"Is there anything you want to tell me?" Ben swiped a hand along his jaw to the tip of his chin, contemplative as Anakin brought over the final box. Anakin had great expectations and never a plan. He just continued in vertiginous descents, searching for other words, other voices, other helpful hands until he got the advice he liked.

"No." Anakin ended eventually. "It's nothing."

Well, the good old days may not return

And the rocks might melt and the sea may burn

It was growing dark outside the diner. Anakin and Padme were crossing the street to their car. He had wrapped her warm in his jacket and her arms were looped around his waist, looking like two lovesick teenagers. When they reached the car, Artoo wasn't alone. A dark figure had come quicker than the night, getting sharper the closer they got. Anakin recognized the man immediately.

"Jabba!" Anakin paled, throat and gut gripped by the man's presence. He yanked Padme against him, keeping her close.

Jabba the Hutt invented a theatre of cruelty with his escapades. He was well-known for his caricature-ishly evil hobbies, and the moon brought out the insanity in his eyes.

"Anakin."

Just the tone of voice sent Anakin down a steep precipice of darkness. A darkness heightened like in a dream or a nightmare where he couldn't quite delineate the scene. It suggested that he had not escaped danger yet. Not fully. There were other dangers that awaited him. He kept trying on these different towns for size, but none of them fit. None of them were safe enough to make a new home. The abyss had gazed into him and past the much needed circle of light he believed Tatooine would provide.

Padme set her eyes on Jabba's strong neck and greased hair. He had high brows, wide shoulders, long legs, and a large belly barely contained within the umber brown mafia coat he donned.

He looked at each of them closely with sick and sloppy hubris, waiting for an introduction – which Anakin gave reluctantly and sullenly.

"This is my wife, Padme."

Padme could not hide her distrust of the tall man's disturbing glance. She also noticed how it made Anakin's blood flow cold within him. She could feel it penetrating her through his hand clamped on her back.

"Heard from Sebulba lately?" It was clear from Jabba's slow and hard delivery that he was testing Anakin's stoicism.

"No." Anakin did his best to sound disconnected, but Jabba exuded a radical confidence.

"Interesting..." He went on, his hand gliding over the roof of Artoo, like he was respecting or inspired by the car. "Last I heard you kids were about to take the Jaguar out for a test drive. Next thing I know, the car's damaged. And you both disappear... Now you're back yet. . .Sebulba isn't."

"Your point being?" Anakin let a little irritation drip out of his words.

"You crashed the car, and Sebulba's gone missing. Coincidence?"

Coincidence. The word should be illegal. It is only said to torment. No one ever uses the word when they indeed believe that two occurrences are simply synchronicities.

"Are you asking me if I know where Sebulba is?"

"Do you?"

"No." Anakin spoke with reserve and it was obvious to Jabba. He could still see that no matter how Anakin conducted himself, he fooled no one. He was still that cocky, scared kid pretending to have it all together.

"I don't think that's true. In fact, I think you're the only one who knows where he is."

A dark glint fled from Anakin's eyes, and Padme intervened, feeling herself being pulled by the tension. What conclusions was this repulsive criminal hoping to draw here?

"Alright that's enough! Anakin, you don't have to answer him." She faced Jabba, digusted. "And for the record, I was in the car with him that day. Not Sebulba. So whatever you're insinuating, you better stop."

"Padme." Anakin cautioned her in a hushed voice, clutching her as if it would deescalate the situation.

"You've already got an alibi. Coincidence?" Jabba adjusted the lapels of his jacket and walked away, leaving behind a shadow that stayed with them.

I'm learning to fly (over my troubles) but I ain't got wings

Coming down is the hardest thing

I'm learning to fly (over my worries) around the clouds

But what goes up

Must come down

Learning to Fly - Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers