Set after The Clone Wars Season 4 episode Prisoners.

"Get a good night's sleep Snips," Anakin touched his padawan on her growing shoulder. "You did well today."

"Thank you master," she was quiet but obviously pleased with his praise.

"I'll see you in the morning."

Her door closed. Beneath his dripping feet he could feel the mass of the Republic Cruiser finally lifting from the atmosphere of Man Calamari and he turned, determinedly. His troops were showering, sleeping, eating. Master Fisto was checking in with the Jedi Council. His feet powered straight for the quarters Padmé had been assigned.

At the door he didn't press the announcer, he slapped his palm on the control and had the door flying open straight before him.

Padmé was just removing the wrist gauges that had controlled the micro climate of her wetsuit. The helmet, transparisteel still with a vital crack and covered in life-saving Gungan spit, sat on a small chair beside her.

"Your helmet cracked," he said darkly, not breaking his stride.

She looked up, her own features twisted in appalled memory as he squelched his way into her room. "They tortured you right in front of me." The facade was gone and her tears came from nowhere, no longer able to be repressed.

They clashed together, bodies colliding full-force as they abandoned the act they'd been portraying for too many days now and came together in agonised relief. Anakin's arms crushed Padmé close. Her hands wrapped into his hair and around his neck, yanking him closer. Their mouths reached with aching nerves, devouring one another as they met.

They stood there in the middle of her quarters embracing and kissing, desperately re-uniting. Soft breaths and pants the only sound in the room. Both dripping into an ever-growing puddle of Mon Calamari sea water on the floor.

"I almost lost you today," Anakin pulled back enough to look down at her clinging wet suit. His eyes were a painful ice blue as they briefly met Padmé's, unthinkingly reaching for her fastenings.

He began undoing, tugging powerfully to get the clinging material off. He barely registered that Padmé had already peeled the matching fabric from his own body, and that he was bared from the waist up. When she could put her hands all the way around him and only feel skin, she pulled him tight to kiss him again. Anakin was just yanking down the zipper on the front of her suit and didn't get a glimpse of her wet skin, only felt it pressing to his own as he slid his hand inside the rubber and his cold palm registered the tip of her hardened nipple. Pressing on he curled his aching stiff fingers around her full breast and cupped her possessively. His hand claiming her water-logged skin.

A moment of silent kisses passed intimately between them. From his substantial height Anakin's legs buckled and he fell to his knees, clasping each of his wife's curved hips in a hand and pulling her forward. To his hungry mouth. Padmé's hands slid into his scruffy long hair and her breath caught in a surprised gasp. Her eyes squeezing shut, her fingers curling against his scalp.

Salvation. As he ran his hot tongue over her shivering skin and caressed her full breast with his lips he felt salvation. She had survived to whimper in his arms tonight and he was taking full advantage. He pressed his attack, clasped her close. Suckled. He closed his eyes in relief and wrapped his mouth around her naked breast while she slowly melted to him. Let his hands wander to strip the rest of her pressurised suit then lifted her into his arms, carried her straight to the bed and trapped her beneath him.

"We're on an Army vessel –" Padmé tried to be rational.

He suckled her breast harder. Insistent. His unspoken message clear: This was happening. Now.

She shut up. And her toes slid into the back of his wetsuit, caressed over the tight cheeks of his ass and pushed the fabric right away.

"Yes," he growled in agreement to her unspoken statement.

He'd never needed guidance with this but after two years of marriage, a week with no touching and being forced to watch her helmet cracking and water stealing her breath, he was utterly overwhelmed.

He freed her breast from his mouth only to lift his head and instantly take her in a rough kiss. Her supple thigh wrapped insistently around the dimples at his naked back and yanked him in closer. Anakin only needed a single powerful move. He braced his elbow beside her head on the pillow, his golden hand clutched her thigh to his ribs and he jabbed into her with a single shove that bore deep into her empty belly. Their mouths parting to simultaneously gasp, agonised relief pouring from them at being joined.

He grunted a tortured "Padmé," while she opened her mouth to scream at the sudden glory.

His mouth crushed over hers just in time, swallowing her cry even as he withdrew and thrust forward again to prolong it. Her nails dug into his biceps as he gave it to her. Everything he had. She trembled, struggling to take him when he was so thick and aroused. She had no choice though, he was determined, Insistent.

"We're on an army vessel," he hissed her own words back at her, a warning to stay silent.

She was slick and clutched him tight in welcome. Another long grind forward of his hips and he got even deeper. Her fingers ran around to his back and clutched in delighted agony.

"You feel so good," she grabbed a fistful of his hair and guided him down to kiss her again. "When that eel was shocking you," he pounded her with an animal force behind his claiming. Not needing to be reminded.

She didn't stop him, her knee dug into his back making his next thrust unexpectedly slide all the way home. "I couldn't stand it. Knowing he might kill you."

"Not yet," Anakin promised the universe and his wife with a threat and gritted teeth.

"I want things," she said in a breathless rush, cupping his cheek, her worried dark eyes studying him. "You can't die. I-I couldn't –"

"Shhh," he kissed her as tears started to spring to her eyes. "You have me."

She wouldn't let him stop her. "I want to have a family one day," she rushed.

His body froze mid-withdraw, only the shock enough to cease the unsteady roughness of his hips. His eyes widened comically as he looked down at her. Then those beautiful eyes crinkled around the edges and a smile softened his features.

"With me?" he asked in disbelief, running his index finger down her cheek in a slow, wondering caress.

"Yes," she softly admitted.

He fell silent, his eyes flicking back and forth over hers in wonder.

"Not now, but one day," she quantified.

He still didn't say a word.

Finally her hips shifted in gentle protest, coaxing him to keep going.

The utterly liquid blue of his eyes started to swirl with mischief. "We're on one of the Grand Army of the Republic's main battle Cruisers," he said with teasing slow sternness. "My flagship. I command a battalion of troopers."

"What's your point?" she huffed.

"That I relish the day I am called to the more difficult task of wrangling your children. Senator."