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Astri latched onto both sides of the open taxi door and hauled herself out. First her stomach disembarked, then the rest of her followed. She massaged her lower back with the knuckles of her right hand and reached back to snatch her tote bag off the seat with her left. The taxi zipped back into traffic before she could turn around to face the imposing main entrance of the Jedi Temple -- the only entrance non-residents were allowed to use.
Her awkward spread-legged gait would have marked her as a swoop rider, if not for her easily distinguished silhouette. As she lumbered across the plaza toward a gate flanked by two Jedi and two members of Coruscant Security, the baby pushed up against her ribs. Astri pushed back with her free hand. For the umpteenth time she reminded herself that in less than two weeks this little one would make his appearance and she would rediscover her feet as actual appendages and not swollen, aching lumps. The baby kicked her in the ribs, and Astri gasped. It couldn't happen soon enough.
A pained expression still etched her features as she halted before the security check. The Jedi seated at a computer terminal cast her a compassionate glance and asked her to state her name and business.
Here goes. "Astri Oddo. I have an appointment to see Healer Winna di Yuni." She patted her stomach while the Jedi squinted at the monitor.
"I'm sorry, Mistress Oddo. We have no such record."
Both C-Sec officers took a step forward.
"Please check again," Astri said. "I'm sure I have the right time."
A few seconds later, the Jedi shook his head and turned a mournful gaze to her. "Perhaps you have the wrong day."
The baby kicked again and Astri sagged against the desk, not even having to fake the pain, only having to let it show. "Could you please check with Healer di Yuni personally? I'm positive it was today."
The Jedi nodded quickly and opened a comlink channel. Astri could feel the assessing gaze of the other Jedi -- a Twilek -- and kept her gaze glued to the first fellow. A vaguely familiar voice that fairly bristled with energy burst forth from the speaker. "Winna di Yuni here."
"Winna, this is Knight Selanin at the main gate. We have ..."
"Astri Oddo," Astri supplied.
The Jedi nodded. "... Astri Oddo here who says she has an appointment with you, but we have no record of it."
A short pause and the voice loudly demanded, "What was the name again?"
"Astri Oddo," Knight Selanin repeated.
"Just a moment. Ah, yes. I've written it down, so she must be correct. An oversight on my part, I'm sure. Do you have someone there who could show her the way down?"
"I'll have Knight Branim escort her to turbolift E-12. Could you have a healer meet them there?"
"I have a moment. I'll meet Mistress Oddo myself."
"Very good." Knight Selanin signed off and gave Astri a kindly smile.
One of the officers stepped forward and waved a security wand in front of Astri and behind her, from head to toe. He nodded and motioned for her to pass through.
The elderly healer was waiting at the turbolift. Her eyes twinkled upon seeing Astri. She clasped both of Astri's hands and said, "My child. How good to see you again. Now let's go see how this pregnancy of yours is coming along." She dismissed the knight escorting Astri with an absent wave and ushered her onto the lift.
The ride down to the med-center was silent. When they stepped off the lift, Astri asked, "Is there a refresher nearby? This baby alternates between kicking my ribs and using my bladder as a punching bag. Right now it's doing the latter."
"This way." Winna di Yuni said with a smile. She led Astri through a waiting room and pointed down a short hallway.
When Astri returned, Winna was sitting down, waiting patiently. The soft lighting diminished her wrinkles, and Astri could see the lovely young woman Winna had once been. Her advanced age was countered by the peace radiating from her features, and she was still lovely. Winna patted the empty seat beside her and Astri eased herself into the chair, then sighed with the pleasure of being able to rest her feet.
"You are almost at full term. But I have the feeling your pregnancy is not the real reason you finagled your way into the Temple," Winna said.
"You don't mince words, do you?" Astri asked.
"When you reach my age, you no longer feel you have the time for such niceties." Winna paused and a shrewd look entered her green eyes. "I had to think quickly to recall your name. You're lucky I have almost perfect recall for such things. When I treated your father almost fourteen years ago, you and he were involved in a mission assigned to Qui-Gon Jinn. It was a small leap to realize you are here because of Obi-Wan Kenobi." She cocked one eyebrow and waited.
Astri felt at a loss for words, amazed by Winna's astute assessment and unsure where to begin. Finally she hefted her tote bag onto her lap, then held it out to Winna. The elderly healer took the bag and set it at her feet. Astri cleared her throat. "The bag contains Obi-Wan's things. His clothing, actually."
"I see," Winna said slowly. "And how did you come to have them in your possession?"
"Obi-Wan came to me for help earlier this afternoon. I gave him and Padmé -- I mean the senator -- a change of clothing."
Winna held up her hand for silence. "I don't think I'm the being that needs to hear this. But the one you should be telling is just down the hall." She grabbed the bag and stood up. "Come."
Reluctance pooled in her limbs, but Astri forced herself to follow the healer, albeit rather slowly. The familiar feeling of being in over her head swamped her. Why did she so often act without thinking things through? Winna opened a door and waited for Astri to pass through first. A sense of impending doom caused Astri to hesitate on the threshold. She took a deep breath and moved into the room.
The cluster of monitors, surrounding a single med-cot, drew Astri forward like a magnet. She halted by the bed rail and clutched it as she stared down at the tangle of tubes and monitor patches and respirator that almost rendered the being in the midst of it all unrecognizable. On the other side of the cot, a small female dressed in the light blue tunic of a healer, clutched the dark-skinned hand of her patient. She appeared to be deep in concentration.
"That's the Jedi Master hurt in the explosion," whispered Astri. "Master Windu. Will he live?"
"We are hopeful," Winna replied. "At first, only the constant Force connection of a healer kept him with us. There has been slight improvement. It isn't his bodily injuries, but rather his mind that isn't responding."
"Why did you bring me here?"
Winna touched Astri's shoulder and drew her attention away from the bed. "To speak with Master Yoda."
Astri's gaze fell on the diminutive Jedi Master who sat quietly in the corner. He peered at them with a vaguely detached curiosity. His shuttered eyes held a look that made him appear immeasurably old, and very sad. The urge to comfort him arose in Astri. She glanced at the Jedi fighting for his life on the med-cot and feared it was beyond her ability to do so.
Winna led Astri over to the master and sat her down beside him. Still Yoda said nothing. Astri wrung her hands and searched his face. She glanced at Winna, who only nodded. Astri closed her eyes for a second, then looked into Yoda's dull green eyes. "I have news of Obi-Wan."
The change was instantaneous. The winged ears perked up. The eyes widened and sparked with interest. Yoda said, "Trying to connect with him, I have been. Sense him, I cannot."
"Perhaps he's shielding himself for some reason, Master," Winna suggested.
Astri frowned. Shielding? What did that mean? She felt the intensity of the Jedi's gaze and set her curiosity aside. "I gave them clothing ..."
"Them?" Yoda interrupted.
"Obi-Wan had a young woman named Padmé with him. The news said she is a senator." Yoda nodded curtly. Astri rubbed her stomach absently as she continued, "I helped them both alter their appearances a bit. Hair dye. Change of clothes. Make-up. And I gave Obi-Wan some credits. Not a lot, just what I had on hand." She glanced at Winna, who smiled encouragingly, set her bag down at Yoda's feet and retreated to Master Windu's side. Astri said, "Obi-Wan's Jedi clothes are in the bag, but he still has his lightsaber. Did I ... Was I right to help them?"
"Mmmm. Wise, it was, that contact the Temple directly, Obi-Wan did not. Framing him, someone obviously is."
"Obi-Wan said that when he and, ah, Padmé, escaped the building, there were people dressed like Coruscant Security on the roof who shot at them."
Yoda pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. After a moment he said, "What they look like now, I need to know."
"Obi-Wan's hair is black and tied in a little ponytail. He's wearing dark green with a black belt. The ... the senator is dressed all in russet and her hair is, ah, close to the same color. Can you send Jedi to help them?"
"One, perhaps. Watching us closely, the security forces are. Know you, where they intend to go?"
Astri frowned. "Obi-Wan didn't say much. Only that he was heading back here. While I was doing his hair he mentioned traveling nearer the surface, but he didn't say how many levels down. I do know he plans on staying on foot for the time being." She paused. "I wish I could be of more help."
"Aided us much, you have. A good friend, you are. To Obi-Wan. To the Jedi."
"The Jedi saved my father once. And Obi-Wan saved me. How could I do nothing in return?"
Winna returned to stand beside Astri. "Mace is beginning to show marked improvement."
A quiet sigh escaped from Yoda. He gave Astri a small smile. "Tell Mace your news, I will. Help his recovery, it will."
"How can you possibly tell him ...? Oh. Can you do that through the Force?"
Yoda nodded. "Affect many things and touch many lives, a single act can. Thanks to you, also know where to look for the attackers, we now do. Owe you a debt, we do. Repay it, we will."
Astri pushed herself up out of the chair. "Just find Obi-Wan and get him home safely. That's all I ask." She looked to Winna, who merely smiled and led the way back to the turbolift.
The healer halted by the lift and held out a comlink. "This is programmed to connect directly with my personal link. If you need anything, or learn anything, just call. I'm sure no one is monitoring a mere healer's communications."
"Thank you." Impulsively, Astri gave Winna a quick hug. "And thank you for remembering me."
Astri stepped onto the turbolift and watched the rising indicator lights. She decided she had been watching too many b-grade holovids lately. Impending doom, my stars. She snorted. Utter foolishness.
It had been dark for some time in the middle reaches of the canyons of Coruscant, though the strip of sky high above was only now fading to black as twilight leeched away. Almost regretful that she had insisted on coming, Padmé needed no encouragement at all to stay close to Obi-Wan's side. She wished he hadn't withdrawn his touch as they negotiated this murky underworld -- it had been oddly comforting. After listening to Anakin for so many months, she never thought anything about Obi-Wan, other than his ruthless efficiency, could console her.
At times Padmé had felt sure eyes were watching them. Different times she'd thought she heard footsteps matching theirs. Once, a swoop had swung in close to the walkway and seemed to glide beside them for a few meters before swinging up and away, toward the higher traffic lanes.
The traffic at this level consisted almost exclusively of merchant transports and the odd swoop or personal speeder. Obi-Wan had pointed out how many warehouses existed down here. Warehouses and factories and taverns. Plenty of taverns. Padmé studied the one they were nearing at the moment.
The exterior was streaked with grime, so thick the two windows barely allowed any light to escape. Several dark growths seemed attached to the walls near the doorway. When one shifted, Padmé realized they were beings, most likely bi-pedal, but concealed so completely by voluminous cloaks that it was impossible to tell for sure.
Obi-Wan's hand slipped into Padmé's grasp and squeezed. The sudden touch startled her, but she managed to keep it hidden. He headed for the tavern's entrance. Trepidation rose in her chest like two mynocks flapping and searching to escape confinement. What was he thinking? How could he even consider entering one of those criminal havens? She shuddered. Obi-Wan must have felt that, because he tightened his grip, sending her a silent warning. Padmé glanced up at the non-stop traffic that streaked between the buildings like a million falling stars. So far from all that light and movement, menace crowded around them with the thickening darkness. Maybe any kind of shelter was better than none. Rather than let her unease show, Padmé lowered her gaze.
The Jedi strode boldly between the entrance guardians, Padmé trailing in his wake. One of the cloaks uttered a muffled curse; another cloak answered with a rude comment about 'slumming'.
Inside, a wall of heat, thick with the odor of unwashed bodies, slammed into the pair. Pillars inset with yellow lighting dotted the large room, giving off a warm dingy light. Raucous laughter and loud exchanges bounced off the walls. Off to one side, a dome of silence hung over two sabaac tables. The players were hidden by rings of onlookers.
Obi-Wan and Padmé wended their way between crowded tables and serving droids toward a bar lining the back wall. Obi-Wan leaned against the bar and pulled Padmé against him, wrapping his arm snugly around her waist. She opened her mouth to protest, when it struck her he was silently telling any interested onlookers that she was off limits. Heat started to creep up her neck. She did not appreciate being treated like a possession. When she tried to squirm away, Obi-Wan just held her tighter. The feel of his powerful body, so different from Anakin's youthful form, was quickly imprinting itself in her memory. It was a contrast both fascinating and infuriating. Padmé gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut for a second.
When she opened her eyes, the barkeep stood before them, bestowing a jaded, knowing look upon the both of them. The heat spread to Padmé's cheeks.
Obi-Wan said, "Our transportation has broken down. Some distance away, I'm afraid, and we haven't come across a turbolift. Do you have any rooms to let?"
The barkeep rubbed his grizzled chin and eyed them up and down. "600 credits."
"That's skylane robbery," Obi-Wan commented.
"Hit the streets, stranger. Then you'll know what skylane robbery is."
Obi-Wan paused. "You have a point."
He retrieved a credit chip from a pocket hidden by his black sash and handed it over. The barkeep scanned it and handed it back. He jerked his head toward a shadowed staircase to his right and told them the room number, then slid an access disk across the counter. Obi-Wan picked it up and inclined his head in thanks. He pushed away from the bar and clasped Padmé's hand, not releasing it until they stepped into the room.
Padmé surveyed the simple room. To the right was a small double bed. A single repulsor chair was tucked into the far corner beside a heavily-curtained window, just across from a built-in holovid projector. On the left, a narrow door led to a cramped refresher. A musty smell permeated the room, and several water stains marked the ceiling.
Biting back a comment about the stellar accommodations, Padmé turned to see Obi-Wan crouched down, fiddling with the door control panel. The casing dangled by a single fastener, revealing a tangle of wires.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Anakin showed me how to circumvent a door's locking mechanism."
"And that would be so ....?"
"So no one can unlock the door from the hallway."
Padmé's tone was filled with false innocence. "What? You don't trust our neighbors?"
Obi-Wan shot her a scathing look. "Should I?"
Padmé sat on the edge of the bed. "You're behaving in a most un-Jedi-like manner this evening."
Stopping what he was doing, Obi-Wan pivoted. Still in a crouch, right knee on the floor, he rested his left forearm across his thigh and peered at Padmé. Even though she was higher than he, she got the distinct feeling he was looking down his nose at her. His voice was clipped. "Explain."
Suddenly uncomfortable, Padmé said, "I was kidding, Obi-Wan. You know -- trying to lighten the mood."
"You referred to something in particular. I'd like to know what."
Irritation pricked her mind. "Well for one thing, you made up that ridiculous story about a broken down transport, and I was always under the impression that Jedi didn't lie. Unlike us politicians."
"The transport that delivered me to the Bothan consulate was quite likely damaged in the explosion, so I told the truth -- from a certain point of view."
Padmé stared at Obi-Wan, incredulity momentarily blanking her mind.
"What else?" he prompted.
Giving her head a shake, Padmé said, "Well now you're tampering with the lock. Willfully destroying someone else's property."
"Are you looking for an argument? Something else must be bothering you if you're mentioning such petty things. I paid for this door three times over, and I don't care if I wreck the lock if it keeps you safe. Neither do you. So what's the real issue here?"
His abruptness left Padmé feeling rather taken aback. Here was the Jedi Master that Anakin complained about, and she didn't much appreciate being exposed to Obi-Wan's hard edge, almost as if he were made of the same sharp corners and unyielding materials as the rest of this city planet. She closed her eyes as the memory arose of standing at the bar downstairs, his iron grip holding her prisoner against his firm body. Her mind rebelled at the rudeness of his actions, but her body was another matter. Her traitor body. It angered her that the memory of his touch should affect her at all; it felt like a betrayal of Anakin and his love.
"Well?" Obi-Wan's quiet voice was demanding.
Padmé met his relentless regard. "You're different."
One eyebrow arched. "You can thank Astri for that." Obi-Wan fingered an errant lock of his own black hair while he eyed Padmé's rusty tresses.
"I don't mean how you look. You are not the Obi-Wan I knew on Naboo. The one who was always worried about doing what was right. And you're not the ultra-polite Obi-Wan who was assigned to guard me all those months ago. You're ... harder somehow. I'm not sure I like it."
"Naboo was over ten years ago, Padmé. Should it surprise you that I've changed? I was amazingly naive, considering I was older than Anakin is now. I've seen enough of the way things are run in this republic to make the most trusting of souls cynical."
"The way things are run ..." Padmé pursed her lips. "By politicians, you mean."
Obi-Wan inclined his head, but said nothing.
"Is that where your enmity springs from?" Padmé raised both her eyebrows and tried to inject a light note into her voice. "Are you flirting with the Dark Side, Obi-Wan Kenobi? Hating politicians? Hating me because I am one?"
Obi-Wan snorted. He stood abruptly, his shadow falling across Padmé, the strength emanating from him suddenly feeling intimidating. His gaze caught hers, and Padmé felt like a womprat surrounded by a circling pack of swoop riders. The sound of her breathing seemed to fill the room.
"I don't hate you, Padmé. I refuse to hate anyone, no matter what their chosen profession. What are you afraid of, Padmé?"
She glanced down at her hands tightly clasped in her lap. "I'm not afraid, I'm--" She broke off when his fingers gripped her chin and tilted her face back up. She blinked repeatedly, trying to escape his scrutiny.
Harshly, Obi-Wan said, "You're afraid of me. What kind of lies or half-truths has Anakin been feeding you?"
When Padmé couldn't think of an answer, he swooped across the room to stare out of a crack in the curtains. Padmé wanted to follow him; she couldn't find the strength to stand. Instead, she stared at that granite back and rigid stance. A gradual awareness stole over her, of the way the dark green tunic accentuated the breadth of his shoulders and his narrower hips, of the way the material clung to his muscled thighs. Her stomach flipped, yet she couldn't tear her gaze away. It was infuriating -- she didn't even like him.
Padmé squeezed her eyes shut, willing Anakin into her thoughts. His touch, his kiss. She wasn't afraid of Obi-Wan; she was afraid of this unwelcome and completely illogical notice her body was taking of his. As if she had suddenly realized that Obi-Wan was not just a Jedi Master, but also a man. She had to find a way to neutralize this inexplicable interest. She was a married woman.
A secretly married woman.
She's afraid of me. What has Anakin told her? Obi-Wan clenched and unclenched his jaw. He couldn't get his mind to accept that one simple idea and move on. He had a mission to accomplish; it shouldn't matter what Padme thought of him. But it did. Was he really so different from the youth he had been? She'd said he was harder. Of course he had to be hard, surely she must realize ...
A hand on his arm froze his thoughts. Obi-Wan held his breath. Padme made no move to turn him around or to stand beside him. Neither did she remove her hand. Awareness skittered up and down his arm.
From behind, Padmé said, "I need to understand you, Obi-Wan. I don't like hiding and I don't accept orders blindly. Please don't shut me out the way you always --"
"Shut Anakin out?" he rasped. He cleared his throat. After a moment he said, "I have been a Jedi all my life. Always expected to control my emotions. Anakin can't seem to grasp the importance of that, but I can't change it, not even for him." He frowned. Where had that come from? "If my harshness offends you, I apologize. You saw what we have to travel through. You know what we're up against."
"Yes, but I still don't understand why we even have to travel at this level. Wouldn't we make better time if we were higher up? What drove you down here?"
"Coruscant Security." Padmé was silent, so Obi-Wan continued, "They don't venture down this far unless called to a major disturbance. They'll have all their informers notified to be on the lookout for us, but even then, there is a lag time, and some informants might not have even gotten the message yet. It buys us time."
"Okay. I can accept that. But why --"
"No." Obi-Wan spun and stared down at her. "Sometimes there is no why. I listen to that day in and day out from Anakin. He has to have a reason for everything. I told you from the start that I want simple obedience. I am following where I sense the Force leading. Let that be reason enough."
"I ..." Padmé sighed. "I'll try, Obi-Wan. But this whole situation is so frustrating. I just want to understand what's happening. I feel so ... powerless."
"And you think I don't? I was just about blown to bits this morning -- in an explosion intended to claim you as one of its victims. Do you have any idea how helpless that made me feel?" Padmé shook her head and puzzlement filled her eyes. His sudden frustration drained. "Contrary to what Anakin believes, Padmé, I do have feelings, and right now I'm feeling very protective of you, like this whole mess is my fault. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe." He paused, wondering if he was frightening her even more. "This is Coruscant. Softness has no place here."
Understanding seeped into her gaze. "And so you become a phantom slayer."
Obi-Wan's thoughts stumbled. "A what?"
"You heard me."
"Yes, but I don't have a clue what you're talking about."
Padmé pursed her lips and stepped back. "It was just a thought that occurred to me in Astri's apartment, about ... this side of you. The fearless Obi-Wan who can vanquish shadows. You don't know the meaning of defeat." She hesitated a second, then drew near again and laid her hand on his chest. Obi-Wan's heart hammered a solid beat under her palm.
Didn't know the meaning of defeat? Obi-Wan almost wanted to laugh. He had tasted so much defeat in training Anakin that he thought it must be oozing from his pores. His awareness of her touch grew. "What are you doing?" he whispered.
She met his gaze boldly. "Offering you my friendship, Obi-Wan. Yes, you frighten me when you are like this, but not enough to scare me off. I would ... be your friend if you would allow it."
Exactly what he didn't need. Complicate a mission with an emotional entanglement, even one as innocent as friendship. He was walking a knife-edge of control as it was. Had been ever since the explosion -- more like, since Anakin had left him on Anobis. "I am not in the mood for games. You're friends with Anakin. Be happy with that. He would not approve of our doing something so drastic as ... liking each other." An odd look passed over Padmé's features. Obi-Wan frowned. He had been trying to make a joke, lame as it might be. Anakin wouldn't dare attempt to dictate who Padmé's friends were. Would he?
As if she had heard his thoughts, Padmé replied, "Anakin does not decide who I am friends with, Obi-Wan. I just thought it might make this journey easier, if we at least tried to ... like each other. I'm sorry you find the prospect so galling. It's not like I'm trying to, to charm you into bed with my wiles, political or otherwise."
A laugh burst free from Obi-Wan, taking his tension with it.
Padmé looked startled. She planted her hands on her hips. "What? Is finding me attractive so completely out of the realm of possibility that you would laugh?"
Obi-Wan hesitated. How had the discussion taken this turn? "No. I'm not blind to the fact that you're a beautiful woman, Padmé. You're just ... not my type."
Speculation entered Padmé's gaze. "Not. Your. Type." She stepped close. Too close. "I didn't think Jedi were allowed to even think about such things. And what is your type, Master Kenobi?"
Obi-Wan stared at her forehead. "That is hardly your business, Senator."
"No, no, no. You are not going to stonewall this conversation, oh Jedi Master of Avoidance. I want to know what Obi-Wan Kenobi finds attractive in a woman."
"How did we even get on this topic? It's totally irrelevant to our current situation."
"Obi-Wan ..."
Irritation fringed Obi-Wan's thoughts. He drilled his gaze into hers. "And if I admitted that I wished you were my type, if I took you in my arms and kissed you passionately, would you drop the subject?"
Padmé swallowed. Her eyes grew larger. "Passionately? Y-you? You're kidding." She swallowed again. "Aren't you?"
"About which thing? About wanting you to be my type or about having a drop of passion in my veins?" Obi-Wan leaned closer, touching his nose to hers. "Why don't we try it and find out?"
With a sharp intake of breath, Padmé jumped back. "I, I don't think ... Anakin would ... I mean, you aren't ..." She spun away, her voice suddenly regal and clear. "This conversation is over."
A smile played around Obi-Wan's lips. It fell away when he replayed her words. What would Anakin do if he kissed Padmé? What did Anakin have to do with any of this, beyond his being Padmé's friend? He needed to clear his mind. Padmé was muddling his ability to think.
"I'm going to step under the 'fresher. Call me if there is even a whisper of movement on the other side of the door."
Obi-Wan tossed his lightsaber on the bed, stalked to the refresher and locked the door behind him . He leaned against the counter and took several deep breaths. It wasn't helping. Confusion clung to his thoughts. He stared into the mirror, cataloguing the strain lines framing his mouth and fanning out from clouded grey eyes. He reached over and cranked the refresher controls. He quickly stripped and stepped under the tepid flow, sighing as the cool water sluiced over his body.
He couldn't shake the feeling that Padmé was hiding something. What bothered him most was not being able to figure out why it mattered.
Padmé turned the lightsaber over in her hands. She ran her fingers over the bold styling details and sighed. Am I crazy, taunting Obi-Wan about such a thing? Do I want him to find out? She dropped the weapon beside her on the bed.
She had never liked Anakin's insistence on secrecy, even when he promised it would only be for a short time. But the days had dragged into weeks, and it was obvious that the Jedi Master knew nothing about the true nature of her relationship with his Padawan. Relief warred with anger. Maybe she should just tell Obi-Wan. As soon as the thought surfaced, Padmé dismissed it. She couldn't betray Anakin in that manner -- he had faced so much betrayal in his life.
Betrayal. Padmé sighed again. Did Obi-Wan even know he was attractive to women? The combination of physical and mental strength was very ... appealing. How odd she had never noticed that before; she wished she hadn't noticed it now. He was usually ensconced behind a high Jedi wall of reserve. In one day she had seen more of the man who was Obi-Wan than she had ever even thought existed. It was a side of him that Anakin needed to see more often.
In an attempt to clear her mind, Padmé tilted her head and listened to the hiss of water coming from the refresher. She frowned and turned her attention to the outer door, but now that she was aware of the sound, she couldn't block it out. And with the sound, came the vivid image of what Obi-Wan looked like under the 'fresher's spray. Heat crept up her neck. This was getting ridiculous.
She sincerely hoped that trying to become Obi-Wan's friend would reduce this disturbing awareness of him.
Padmé tapped the controls embedded in the headboard and stared at the holovid that sprang to life across the room. Two political analysts were discussing the ramifications for Rodia of the death of that planet's leader. Padmé flicked through several other choices, settling on a sappy holovid she remembered watching as a child. She reached back to turn up the volume when she realized the hissing had stopped, so she settled down and tried to focus on the vid. Her imagination leapt repeatedly to the refresher. Obi-Wan stepping out of the 'fresher. Obi-Wan toweling off. Obi-Wan getting dressed.
With a groan, Padmé flopped onto her stomach and punched the pillow. She squeezed her eyes shut, relieved that it was Anakin who sprang to mind.
She must have dozed, exhaustion finally overcoming her. Padmé stirred restlessly and tried to come fully awake as hands tucked a blanket around her. Ani. She smiled. Groggily, she whispered, "Hold me."
"Shh. Go to sleep." Despite the gruffness, the low voice soothed her back into slumber.
Even pushed over to the bed so he could prop up his legs, the chair had been an uncomfortable place to sleep. It had almost been a relief when Padmé had started to thrash. Soft words had failed to comfort her, so Obi-Wan had stretched out beside her and had taken her in his arms. She had settled immediately, turning to him and snuggling against his chest with a small sigh. Afraid to move, lest he wake her, Obi-Wan had puzzled over her reaction. She was certainly used to sleeping with ... someone. He had refused to speculate, had refused to acknowledge the way her body molded against his, had focused instead on the Force, between them, around them, in them.
Obi-Wan had finally slept, only to be awakened almost immediately. A glance at the chrono on the base of the holovid projector told him it had barely been 15 minutes since he'd closed his eyes. He only listened to the night sounds for a few seconds before the one that had woken him was repeated. Whispers in the hallway.
Without hesitation, Obi-Wan clamped his hand over Padmé's mouth and shook her. A muffled cry heralded her return to wakefulness. He hushed her and told her they had to run. In the dark, her head nodded understanding behind his hand. He rolled from the bed, tucked his lightsaber under the sash, and pulled Padmé to her feet, then led her around the chair to the window. It opened easily.
The fetid night air seeped into the room. Behind them, quiet scraping told Obi-Wan an attempt to jimmy the lock was in progress. He knew stealth would be abandoned once they realized the mechanism had been tampered with.
"Time to jump again," Obi-Wan whispered. His declaration was met with a resigned sigh. Padmé didn't resist when he drew her against him. "Don't worry, we're just dropping to the street this time."
They stepped onto the window ledge together. Padmé gripped him around the waist. Obi-Wan lifted her off her feet and stepped into the air. They landed gently in a pool of darkness between two islands of dim light. When no alarm sounded, Obi-Wan took Padmé's hand and began to run. He matched his pace to hers.
A half block later, an alley bisected the street, and they swung into it. Except for a slash of pale light marking where the next street was, they were surrounded by an almost impenetrable darkness. Obi-Wan sensed the being moving to block their path, even before its large silhouette obstructed the beckoning light. He urged Padmé to continue toward the next street and let go of her hand to charge the being. He leapt into the air, coming down feet first into the creature's chest. With a grunt, it staggered back a step. Obi-Wan landed, spun and launched his foot toward the being's face. His heel connected with a chin of some sort. A muted "Oof," was followed by the thud of a skull connecting with ferrocrete.
Padmé was almost to the street when Obi-Wan caught up and took her hand again. She squeezed it but kept her silence. They rounded the corner without slowing. Three blocks later they reduced their pace to a brisk walk and Obi-Wan released her hand.
"Who were they?" Padmé asked quietly. She pressed the heel of her palm against her ribs.
"No idea. Common thieves or terrorists or C-Sec -- I didn't want to wait around and ask."
"Do you think we lost them?"
"We have to assume not. If they were part of the terrorist group, they now know our general location and will soon have the area blanketed." Obi-Wan glanced skyward. Still dark. But in little more than an hour it would begin to lighten. He didn't want to be out in the open when that happened.
"So we need to vacate this sector quickly."
"Ideally."
"Maybe we could hitch a ride."
"I'm sure C-Sec will be along shortly. They will gladly offer us a lift."
"Why wait?" Padmé pointed across the street, near the end of the block, where a transport was moored at a lighted loading bay. One figure maneuvered a grav sled onto the transport while another stacked crates on a second sled.
A smile tugged at Obi-Wan's mouth. While he had been casting his attention behind them, searching for signs of pursuit, Padmé had been scouting ahead for a way of escape. Impulsively, he reached up and touched her on the cheek. "Good job."
Hastily, they made their way over the nearest footbridge and doubled back to the warehouse. They waded into the shadows between the transport and the wall of the bay and listened to the idle chatter of the two laborers. It was soon apparent from the conversation that the loading was almost complete. Obi-Wan crept to the edge of the shadows, Padmé right behind him. While one worker boarded the transport to get the engines fired up, the other guided the grav sleds into a far corner.
Obi-Wan and Padmé slipped on board and hunkered down in a corner of the cargo hold behind some durocrates. Moments later the shadow of the second worker floated past them and the loading ramp raised, sealing shut with a clang.
As the transport lifted, the engine whined with effort, causing vibrations to skitter over the floor and through their heels. Padmé whispered, "Wasn't that a little too easy?"
"Unbelievable as it may be, things aren't always difficult."
"What happens if their destination is some freighter orbiting the planet?"
"Won't happen. This type of transport isn't even equipped for low orbit space travel."
"But we could end up anywhere on the planet?"
"Pretty much."
"What if they're delivering supplies to the Senate, or to Coruscant Security?"
"Space the thought, Senator."
Weak light filtered into the hold through a view panel set into the door. Padmé's hair looked brown instead of that hideous shade of orange, and her eyes appeared to be fathomless black pits. Force, she was beautiful. And incredibly brave. Obi-Wan returned her round, earnest gaze with a calm look. She sighed and broke eye contact, then sidled over so they were side by side. A moment later, Padmé laid her head on his shoulder. Obi-Wan started to stiffen, but forced himself to stay relaxed. Many long minutes after that his own head sagged against hers.
The hypnotic murmur of the engine lured Obi-Wan into a shallow state of rest, on the edge between awake and asleep. He felt it when Padmé took his hand and brushed her thumb over the knuckles, but try as he might, he couldn't summon the energy to react. He decided all he really needed was a short snooze. The thought was barely complete when darkness descended.
Again, Padmé found herself running a finger over her cheek, reliving Obi-Wan's touch. Callused, but gentle. Strength under control. She loved Anakin's impulsiveness, but sometimes she wished ... No. She would not do this. She loved Anakin. Period.
Obi-Wan's head pressed against hers as he slept, trapping her head against his shoulder. An intimacy he wasn't even aware of. She couldn't move without waking him, something she was loathe to do. She was certain he had spent most of the night awake, guarding her.
When the vehicle slowed to a stop, hovered for a moment, then began backing up, Padmé elbowed Obi-Wan in the ribs. He jerked his head up and looked around sharply. Padmé moved her head in slow circles in attempt to loosen her stiff neck muscles. She didn't know how Obi-Wan could stay in one position for so long.
Padmé met the Jedi's quizzical gaze. He asked, "How long have I been asleep?"
She arched one eyebrow thoughtfully. "I'm not quite sure. A couple of hours."
"What?" Shock filled Obi-Wan's eyes. "Force, we could be halfway through the next quadrant."
"But we're not where they think we are."
Obi-Wan shot her an enigmatic glance.
They fell quiet as ringing footsteps sounded down the corridor. The door hissed open and a human in dark brown overalls stepped into the cargo hold. He halted. Padmé and Obi-Wan pressed themselves into the slim shadows. The worker turned and shouted, "How about grabbing a caf and some grub at Riggle's before we unload?" An affirmative reply spurred the worker back into motion. He wheeled and continued aft. Padmé's breath escaped in a slow leak as the loading ramp lowered and settled with a dull thump.
When the other worker had passed by and all was quiet, Padmé asked, "What now?"
"We need to hole up and decide that."
"Maybe there's an empty office or other space in this warehouse where we could hide."
Obi-Wan nodded. "Let's find out. It must be early morning rush hour by now. I'd rather be out of sight until that's over. In fact, I'm not sure we should travel in daylight at all."
Obi-Wan stood up and started forward. He halted and looked back at Padmé with an expression approaching impatience. She tried to stand and winced as sharp bolts of pain shot up her spine. She held out her hand for assistance. Obi-Wan clasped it and pulled, so hard that she popped to her feet and stumbled against his chest. His hands steadied her. Their gazes locked.
Padmé lost herself in those misty blue-grey eyes, wondering if she could ever navigate through that fog to rediscover the man inside. She became acutely aware of the strength radiating out from his hands where they clamped onto her upper arms, and of the solidity of his chest only centimeters from her own as their lungs seemed to rise and fall in perfect unison. Her regard slipped downwards, to be arrested by the sight of his thin firm lips. He had threatened to kiss her. She licked her top lip.
Obi-Wan stepped back abruptly. Padmé almost gasped as cool air rushed against her, replacing Obi-Wan's warmth. As she followed the Jedi out of the ship, gaze glued to his heels, she struggled to push back the confusing rush of emotion and sensation that threatened to overwhelm her. She was not attracted to this fascinating and frustratingly reserved Jedi. She was married. Happily married to Anakin. His passion and adoration and youthful vigor were intoxicating. He would mature. He would --
Padmé failed to notice that Obi-Wan had stopped moving until she squished her forehead and nose against his spine. She hastily back-stepped and jerked her attention to her surroundings. They stood at the base of the transport's loading ramp, in the midst of a cavernous warehouse. A few piles of duracrates were scattered around the floor. Bright morning light streamed through a row of narrow windows set high in the back wall.
"Where are all the workers?" Padmé whispered, afraid to disturb the thick silence echoing through the almost empty building.
"Good question. We're obviously higher up, if the sunlight is anything to go by. Premium space not being used probably means we've stumbled into an illegal operation."
"But what about the company logos on the workers' clothing and on the transport? Everything looks so ... above board."
"Which only means this is a big and well-organized ... business. We'd better get out of sight." Obi-Wan pointed to a row of rooms built into the left wall. A stairway led to a catwalk ringing the warehouse and another set of doors, directly above the bottom ones. "Let's try upstairs."
Obi-Wan took the stairs two by two; Padmé was struck by his ability to be close to silent on a metal staircase. She ascended slower as she focused on keeping her footfalls quiet. By the time she reached the top Obi-Wan was halfway along the catwalk fronting the rooms, pausing at each door, then moving on. He motioned for her to hurry.
At the last door, he palmed the controls and the door retracted silently into the wall. He ushered Padmé inside, closing and locking the door. A skinny window in the corner let in a chunk of light that diffused through the room, making artificial light unnecessary.
Padmé scowled as she scanned the room. It was completely empty. Floor, ceiling and walls were padded with a slightly spongy blue material that she had never seen before. She reached out and poked a wall. It felt like the smooth padding on public transports -- just enough to ease your discomfort, but not enough to be truly comfortable. She turned to Obi-Wan with a puzzled frown.
He answered her unasked question. "It's called 'Unfiltrate' -- a material that listening devices can't penetrate. This must be a safe room. No sound gets in or out." He nodded toward the corner. "Even the window is sealed. I'd guess it's one-way glass."
"Then this might be a terrible place to take shelter, if we're in some criminal hide-out."
"There were no fingerprints on any of the last three doors, including this one. And dust on the catwalk suggested it hasn't been used in some time. We should be fine. Besides, these looked to be modular units, stacked one atop the other, so the downstairs rooms are probably identical. Criminals are generally lazy. They won't walk up the stairs if the same facilities are available on the ground floor."
"You seem to know an awful lot about this kind of setup."
"Criminal activity is increasing at an alarming rate across the whole galaxy, as you might have noticed. As Jedi, we make it our business to study our opponents."
Padmé leaned against the nearest wall and slid to the floor. After the metal floor of the transport, it was soft as a pillowy cushion. Obi-Wan eased to the floor to sit cross-legged, facing her. Padmé's stomach rumbled and she looked away from the amusement breaking through his cloudy eyes.
She focused on tucking a rusty orange pant leg back inside her black boots and asked, "What now?"
"Now I find out where we are so we can figure out where to go. If we traveled as long as you said, we could be a month or more away from the Temple by foot. That might not be an option any longer."
"Couldn't we just ... borrow the transport?"
"And have another criminal organization after us? I'd rather not resort to that if we don't have to. Far better to ... borrow ... a private vehicle if we must. But if we're that far from the Temple, any theft would zero C-Sec in on us before we could get to safety. All Coruscant vehicles have registered transponders built into them that the Transport Commission can trace if need arises. They work very closely with C-Sec personnel to 'keep our sky and space lanes running safely and efficiently'."
One eyebrow quirked. "Does that conclude the advertising portion of this mis-adventure?"
His expression hardened. "I fail to see our predicament as something to joke about."
Padmé fought the desire to make a face at him. "So sorry. I forgot that you're the only one allowed to make snide comments during tense situations."
His eyes narrowed for half a second, then blandness stole over his features. For some reason, that only irked Padmé all the more. She shifted her gaze to stare out the window. Her stomach growled again.
"What are you waiting for?" she snapped. "Shouldn't we get going?"
"Not we. I will head out as soon as that transport is unloaded and the workers are occupied somewhere other than the middle of the warehouse."
Padmé didn't answer. He was treating her like Alderaanian glasswork. Trying to leave her tucked away on a shelf when a dangerous task presented itself. He should know better than that after Geonosis. A wary silence stretched out between them, punctuated occasionally by a soft rumble from Padmé's empty stomach. She steadfastly refused to meet his gaze as her thoughts raked over and over their current plight.
Eventually, she caught herself peering at the Jedi out of the corner of her eye. His eyes were closed; he appeared perfectly relaxed. She stared at the measured movement of his chest, the green material just snug enough to hint at the muscles it concealed. The rhythmic action was soothing; calm reasserted itself.
"They're gone." Obi-Wan's voice snapped her gaze up to his face. Heat flushed her cheeks, as if she'd been caught doing something wrong.
She shunted aside her embarrassment. "How do you know?"
"I've been monitoring them through the Force. So far as I can tell the whole building is empty."
What about security cams?"
"They should be easy to circumvent." He rose smoothly. "I'll be as quick as I can."
Padmé scrambled to her feet. "No." He regarded her curiously. Padmé lifted her chin. "I've been thinking about it, and I should be the one to go out."
Crossing his arms, Obi-Wan replied, "Absolutely not."
Padmé took a calming breath. "Think about it. You don't look all that much different. Just your hair color, really. Whereas, even you admitted I look like a completely different person." His face looked carved from granite. Padmé continued, "Wildly different hair color. Make-up that alters my features. You know there aren't a handful of beings on this planet that would stand a chance of recognizing me. Not to mention the fact that a woman by herself would never be suspected of being a kidnap victim." When he still didn't answer, Padmé planted her hands on her hips. "Stop being unreasonable, Obi-Wan."
The Jedi replied, "I haven't said a thing."
"You didn't need to. Your expression is saying it all. You have to let me be the one to go."
"I have to do no such thing. You came along on the agreement that you would do as I said. My decision is final."
"Even when your decision puts us in more danger? That's completely illogical."
They stared at each other. Obi-Wan's eyes were dark and stormy, his stance subtly combative. Padmé refused to look away this time; she refused to be intimidated. Slowly furrows in his forehead deepened until he was glowering at her. Padmé felt her resolve beginning to crumble under that look.
Before her nerve gave way, she quickly took a step forward and forced boldness into her voice. "What is that look for? You know I'm right."
After a long moment, Obi-Wan replied, "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."
Padmé blinked her confusion away. Realization hit and a smile blossomed. "You're going to let me go." She launched herself at him and threw her arms around his neck, then jumped back just as quickly, brushing her hands on her pants. "I, I knew you would be reasonable. I just knew it."
Obi-Wan continued to frown. "This isn't a senatorial banquet I've just given you permission to attend, Padmé. We don't have any idea what could be waiting for us out there. And if that was C-Sec or the terrorists banging on our door last night, they could have gotten a description of you from the barkeep. I'm letting you go only because your argument is logical. Understand?"
Padmé nodded. Wordlessly, Obi-Wan turned to the door. He led the way down the stairs and across the warehouse floor to a side door between the bay door and a heavily shuttered and barred window, below the catwalk. The transport was gone, making the large space seem even more cavernous.
Glancing around, Padmé asked, "What about security cams?"
"While you're gone, I'll find the control panels and see if I can rig them, or at least erase anything incriminating. But I'll be waiting right here when you get back." He took her hand and turned it palm up, then tapped it. "Use that code when you return, so I don't think you're someone else and attack you." He didn't let go of her hand, but placed the credit chip in it and curled her fingers around it. "Hopefully there's enough credit remaining so you can bring us back something to eat. Don't risk anything just for food, though. Trust your instincts. If they're telling you to run, then get back here. I'd rather listen to your stomach growl than have something happen to you. Find out our location. Get some food if you can. Be as quick as you can."
Padmé gave a solemn nod. One corner of her mouth lifted. He almost sounded like Governor Bibble lecturing her before an important negotiating session. She couldn't resist teasing him. "And don't worry, I'll tell you all about the banquet and what everyone wore the second I get back."
Something dark and unreadable flashed through his eyes. A hint of menace dropped his voice. "You do that, Senator."
Padmé fled into the streets of Coruscant.
