This is my pathetic attempt at actually trying to find a new hobby. Even if it isn't great, I had fun writing it, so I'll probably write more stories soon.

All forms of feedback are welcomed!

Flower Roots

"Look, I've got to go," the voice at the other end of the phone said cheerfully, "we're having date night and I've got to get ready- did I tell you he bought me flowers yesterday? He must have something special planned. Not that Darred isn't a natural sweetheart or anything, it's just he usually saves the 'flowers and chocolate' deal for something special, you know?"

"I'll talk to you later," the other woman said, successfully keeping the bitterness out of her tone, "love you, Sola. Have a good night together."

"Oh, I will! And try not to stress out too much, Padmé. I know how you fret over things."

Ugh. You've got no idea.

Padmé let the phone go dead before she slammed it onto the counter with a surprisingly large amount of force. There. That helped the situation. Some. A little. Not really.

She glared at the photograph on her window sill. Her picture perfect little family; Mother, Father, and their beautiful little girl between them. If you looked carefully enough at the photo you could see the tear were she'd started to shred it before she changed her mind.

It was probably some kind of denial, she mused, keeping a picture of her ex-husband in her kitchen, like she was the kind of person who could manage to hold a marriage together.

She'd tried, of course. She'd thrown herself headfirst at their problems and tackled them with all the love in the world. She read articles and wrote to advice columns, and she'd pressed him into counselling because that was what you did to fix things with the man you loved. God, how she'd loved the man once upon a time. He'd given her a beautiful daughter, after all.

There hadn't been much use for fighting when she knew he had someone else, probably a younger and prettier someone, waiting to nurse whatever wounds he held. He had someone to hold for the night while Padmé cried herself to sleep in their empty bed, trying not to wake their daughter in the next room.

"What are we going to tell Leia?" she'd hissed at him as he tried to head out the door, "Have you even thought about what this will do to her?"

"It happens to kids all the time," he'd sighed wearily, "they deal with it. She'll adjust just the same."

"But it doesn't have to," she'd said on the brink of tears, "It doesn't have to happen to our daughter, Palo!"

"It's for the better. It's better for us to be apart than together and unhappy."

He'd walked out shaking his head. She didn't see him for three days, and he only came back to pack his bags. After that it was signing the papers and the awkward lack of talk when they passed Leia back and forwards. Some family.

Padmé blinked.

And that stupid photo was still sitting on her goddamn window sill.

What on earth was wrong with her, keeping it there? Pictures of ex-husbands were meant to be banished to fires and shredders. Why the hell was hers on the kitchen window sill?

"Mommy!"

Padmé whirled around to see her rather annoyed little girl pouting up at her through a cloud of dark curls.

"You said we were going!" She sounded indigent.

"Sorry honey, your auntie called. We can go now."

She grabbed her keys from the bowl in one hand, and her daughter's tiny hand in the other. The park was close enough to walk to, and they went there whenever they could. It was nice to get out of the house, and nicer to give her daughter a chance to laugh and learn to get straight back up when she fell and scraped her knees.

Sure, she bit her lip, she wished she could watch her daughter grow up while she was holding someone's hand, but her daughter was the important one in that sentence. Not her, and not 'someone', whoever that was.

If someone even existed.

Most 'someones' didn't exactly come after nearly-thirty-year-old mothers. They went for the young and beautiful women she imagined her husband had found himself.

Ex-husband, she reminded herself bitterly.

She had barely noticed that they'd reached the park, too lost in her own little world of ex-husbands and the lack of new men that were lining up to take the vacant position of husband to a divorcee like herself, who had a daughter, and often worked so much she forgot just about everything else in her life, sans Leia.

What an appealing package I offer.

She waved to Leia as the little girl toddled in the direction of whatever she could climb on. Leia should have had a father who wanted to see them work as a family. Should have had a father who'd be at the park with them both instead of chasing someone new and probably thinking about creating a new child. Leia deserved much better than Padmé could offer her.

She swallowed the lump in her throat.

Padmé Naberrie felt like a failure, and if there was one thing she wasn't, Padmé was not a failure.

Distract yourself, for God's sake, Padmé.

She scanned the park briefly, feeling a smile break out on her face as she spotted the other regulars of the park.

Padmé didn't know his name, but the guy was good looking, that was for sure. And he was as sweet as anything with his daughter. She was older than Leia, at least thirteen or so, Padmé thought. It was hard not to smile when watching a handsome man take very seriously the conversation with a kid, and wait patiently when she ran off to dash about madly on the playground. She envied his wife, whoever she was.

Must be nice having a family man who sticks around.

Sometimes she wished that their daughters would find each other in the park and introduce each other to their parents. She just wanted to be around someone like that, even if only to persuade herself that guys like that still existed.

But she wasn't going to go around snatching other women's husbands up just because they were handsome and adorable with their kids. She'd had a husband like that once long ago, if she remembered correctly, and it hadn't been a pleasant experience when he'd been snatched away from her.

As if he could tell when she was thinking of him, her phone buzzed aggressively and Padmé felt her dirtbag-ex-husband radar go off. He always called at the worst times, and it was never a nice conversation.

"Yes?" she snapped into the phone, "what do you want?"

"I can't take Leia this weekend."

"Are you serious right now?" Padmé felt her face starting to redden, "She's been looking forward to seeing you for two whole weeks, I can't believe you'd do this to her!"

"Padmé, can you calm down? Just let her know I'll see her the week after. I promise."

"She's four years old she doesn't understand why her father doesn't see her like he used to. All she understands is that her own dad simply isn't around anymore."

"I am around, Padmé" she could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose, as he always did when flustered. "You're being dramatic," he sighed, "I've got to go, I can't sit here all day and discuss whether or not I'm the world's worst parent with you. It's not worth the time. Just tell her there are other weekends and that I love her very much."

She stared at her phone dumbly when he hung up. It wasn't the shortest conversation they'd had, and nor was it the least hostile. That was sad. She wondered if her sister was ready for her date yet, with her perfect family-man husband. She watched as her practically fatherless daughter trotted from the sand box to the bed of flowers and began rooting about in the dirt, hunting for treasure, or perhaps worms. It was hard to tell with Leia.

How the hell am I going to tell Leia?

She wanted to scoop her little girl into a hug right then and there, but it was better to let Leia potter about with the flowers. Why ruin a perfectly good day at the park?

She forced a smile on as Leia came back, hands filled with a bunch of only partially crushed flowers, which she waved uncertainly at Padmé.

"Are those for me, honey?" Padmé accepted the flowers graciously, "They're very pretty." She expertly ignored the ugly dangling roots and clumps of dirt attached to the ripped white and yellow flowers.

Leia giggled and shook her head briskly, curls flailing about, before pointing over to the man Padmé had just been watching. Her bright brown eyes sparkled with an innocent kind of mischief that only a young child could manage. Padmé was not, apparently, the only one harboring a bit of interest in the handsome stranger.

"I think we should keep them, honey," Padmé said, urging the smile to stay attached to her face, "he might not like flowers. Don't you want to take them home and put them in a jar?"

"No."

Padmé blinked. Well then.

Another tactic, then. "We can take them home to the kitty. Don't you think Artoo would just love to have these? I bet he'd have fun pouncing on them."

"No."

"But Leia I really don't think-"

Leia shook her head and stopped her small foot in agitation, "For him!"

The little girl tugged at her mother's sleeve and pointed over to the man. "MAMA!"

Padmé sighed. Leia was a very determined, bull-headed little girl. She'll make a wonderful politician one day.

While Leia saw it as her mission to get her mother to deliver the flowers, Padmé thought of it more as putting herself up for a great deal of rejection and embarrassment, and a little part of her was terrified of the socially suicidal event of becoming "that lady at the park who preys on people's pretty husbands." Not to mention the risk of embarrassment.

Padmé didn't like looking bad, and she was more than willing to admit to herself that she was a proud woman. Giving out flowers to strange men at the behest of her four year old was not part of her usual routine, to say the very least.

But Leia wasn't giving up. The tugs on her sleeve were becoming more insistent, and to be honest, Padmé would have done anything to put a smile on her face, knowing what she'd have to tell her later.

Sorry honey, your daddy's more busy with the woman he left your mommy for to see you this weekend.

She grit her teeth, ensured her fake smile was plastered over her face, and stood up.

"Alright sweetie, let's go."

With her daughter in tow she strode towards the man and his daughter, who were sitting together and discussing something quietly. Probably the strange, lonely lady with no husband who kept staring at them, she grumbled internally.

The girl noticed her first, and gave her a friendly smile, nudging her father to look at the approaching duo.

"Uhh…" Padmé began.

Well done, Padmé.

He looked at her expectantly before seeming to realize that she wasn't going to keep going, or rather, couldn't.

"Can I help you, Miss?"

Oh God, just do it.

She thrust the slightly crushed flowers into his hands and looked away, furious that she was already blushing so easily.

"My daughter wanted me to give these to you!" she squeaked, snatching Leia's hand up and hurrying to the furthest part of the park she could find, with all the dignity she could muster, not daring to look back.

She could practically feel the guy's eyes burning a hole in her back, and she couldn't stop blushing, though she could just barely survive the urge to bury her head in the sand. Leia remained blissfully unaware of her embarrassment, happily climbing all over the park bench that Padmé had selected as her new hiding place.

"It's getting a bit late, Leia," she feigned a yawn, "why don't we go home? We can come back tomorrow."

Leia, having been satisfied by the delivery of her freshly crushed flowers, nodded, and the two set off hand in hand.

I am never going to set foot in this park again. I'm going to find a new park.

She was almost serious. Really though, she promised herself, I'm not going back and getting myself humiliated again, not in this lifetime.

A week and a half later she found herself dragged directly back by her four year old.

To be fair, a week and a half was a long time for Leia to not play in the sand box, and it was, she admitted, an adequate amount of time to get over her previous humiliation.

Of course you're still here.

She eyed the man warily, his daughter too, who clearly recognized them from the little enthusiastic wave she gave. Padmé pretended she didn't see. She also tried to leave, but she met a rather staunch opposition in her daughter.

"No!" Leia's eyes flashed angrily, "No! I want to play!"

"Leia, sweetie-"

"It's not fair!"

Padmé sighed and let Leia rush off to play. She'd deprived her of her precious park time for over a week, and if she was honest, Leia had a hell of a temper for a four year old if injustice happened to strike. The teenage years, she smiled slightly, would be interesting.

Okay, Padmé. Just ignore the idiot staring at you. You're here for Leia, that's all.

It became a little harder to ignore him when the idiot in question got up and walked towards her extending a rather large bouquet which he pressed into her awkward hands.

"My niece wanted me to give these to you," he grinned, a playful note in his voice, "she insisted, actually."

Padmé wanted to scowl. She hated being made fun of, and even more she hated being reminded of anything even vaguely embarrassing.

Then again he had just handed her a bouquet of flowers that didn't, she noted, look as though they had been very cheap. She took a deep breath and managed a perhaps wobbly smile.

"My daughter really did want me to give you those flowers last week, you know. I wasn't lying."

Definitely didn't use it as an excuse to talk to you, no matter how attractive you are. I'm not that desperate.

Well, not quite.

"But why?"

He sounded, in that instance, almost childish, like a petulant boy, and Padmé stared at him quizzically. Now that he was up close and she could subtly study him, she realized he was probably actually a few years younger than she was.

"I don't know," she did her best to ignore his smirk, "I guess she has a crush on you," she said nonchalantly.

It wasn't that the smirk he was sending her way was an unkind one, and hell, the flowers he'd given her were beautiful. But it was blindingly obvious that he thought she'd brought the flowers over on her own accord, not under the orders of a very persuasive four year old.

The guy was, she realized, completely full of himself.

And yet she didn't really mind. Usually she'd turn her nose up at a man who simply knew how great he was. She didn't need another arrogant idiot in her life, thank you very much. One ex-husband was one too many for a lifetime. But this guy was somehow different. Maybe it was the flowers. She was a sucker for romance.

"So," she struggled to regain control of the situation, "why'd you decide to bring me these flowers then?"

"You look like you don't get flowers as often as you should," he said with another cocky smile in his voice, "if you ask me, anyway."

"Not a bad guess, unfortunately," she sighed.

When was the last time someone bothered to bring me flowers, for Christ's sake?

Her ex had never, she remembered, really bothered with that sort of thing. Maybe a small, obligatory gift for Valentine's Day. Certainly she'd never been surprised with flowers for the sweetest, simplest reasons. You're pretty. I appreciate you. Just because.

"Well I'm glad I could fix that," he was saying, "though if it's been a little while I might need to bring you some more."

"Tell me, are you always this annoyingly charming, or is this a limited time offer?"

"Only when the lady is this annoyingly pretty."

She smiled. She couldn't help it. The guy was easier to get along with than she had previously assumed, even if he was, as she'd said, rather annoying.

Charming though.

"I'm Anakin," he offered, "and that's my brother's daughter, Ahsoka."

He gestured towards the swings, where Ahsoka and Leia were having a much easier conversation than their respective guardians, the older girl showing the younger how to expertly push off from the ground.

"Well, I mean," Anakin stumbled, "he's sort of my brother- not by blood, just we've been like brothers since I can remember so I just call him my brother… it's complicated I guess. Anyway, he adopted Ahsoka when she was younger, he's a great guy, y'know? If it wasn't for him I'd, well, I'd…"

Padmé let him fumble over his words. Despite his cockiness, and what was clearly youthful immaturity, he seemed… affected by something... Her? And it was rather clear, watching him struggle to explain his brother and niece, and on some level himself, that he was a good guy deep down. And one she wouldn't mind getting to know better. Maybe.

She relaxed, and let her eyes drift over to Leia and Ahsoka. There was just something about the way Leia grinned widely at her from the swings that told her that her daughter approved of the development.

And that was the important part.

"Your niece and my daughter seem to be getting along," she indicated with her head, offering him a way out of his stuttering spiral, "it's quite cute, actually."

"Yeah, Ahsoka's a friendly kid," he grinned, recovering some of his previous cockiness, "A bit of a hellion, but a good kid. Mind if I take a seat?"

"Not at all," she grinned back, "I can't believe we've both sat in this park so long and never spoken."

Just think of all that wasted time.

"Me either," he shrugged, "just think of all the flowers we've saved by not speaking."

She laughed. Already he'd taken something she thought was sad and suddenly it was funny.

"You know I didn't give you my name," she grinned, "I'm Padmé. My daughter's Leia. We live just a little way down the street. It's why I come here so often."

"Padmé and Leia, huh?" he chuckled, "I'm not too far from here either. Ahsoka and I come here a lot too- but I guess you knew that already."

Padmé smiled kindly.

"Well, you know, Anakin," she took a deep breath, "if you and Ahsoka wanted to come by some time and oh I don't know, you could grab a coffee or something and we could take the girls to the park…"

She let the invitation trail off and hang between them.

"Tuesday, four o'clock?" he grinned. She was getting used to that.

"Sure."

"I take my coffee black, no sugar."

"Then you know how to make mine."

They both laughed.

God, why was he was so damn easy to talk to? It'd been so long since she'd just had someone to talk to like this, and never culd she recall it beening so simple . The guy had never exactly looked like Anakin either, she hid a grin. Anakin was full of himself already. He didn't need to know how attractive he was.

At least not today.

They quipped back and forth, watching Ahsoka and Leia hike over the playground, the older girl helping the younger girl over the obstacles in her path.

"Ahsoka seems like a really nice girl," Padmé smiled, "not a lot of kids would put up with a four year old tailing them."

"She's a lot like her dad," Anakin nodded, "she's a good kid. Really did tell me I should bring you flowers, I swear." It was a clear lie, but she wasn't annoyed by it. Instead Padmé laughed.

"You're impossible."

"A tiny bit."

A glance at her phone told her that she'd been chatting with Anakin about absolutely nothing for well over half an hour. She couldn't deny that she was excited for Tuesday. The thought of spending more time with him practically had her beaming.

"You know we've been sitting here for forty-five minutes?" he said, as though he were reading her mind, "I actually have to get Ahsoka home to her dad. But you know, why don't you let me have your number? Just so I can make sure we're still good for Tuesday."

"Oh we will be," Padmé smirked, "but I'll give you my number anyway, how's that?"

She watched him leave, taking Ahsoka's hand and clearly relaying everything that had happened to her. They waved at the park's entrance before disappearing down the street.

"We're going to play with Ani and Soki?" Leia could barely keep herself from jumping all over the place at the news. Ani? What a cute nickname, Padme thought with a grin. "When does Tuesday get here? Soon, mommy?" Leia continued with large, hopeful brown eyes.

Padmé squeezed Leia's hand as they began the short walk home.

"Not soon enough, sweetie. Not soon enough."