Anakin doubted anyone who didn't know his wife well even noticed anything was different about her. She laughed a bit too loudly at Senator Organa's joke about Alderaan's school systems and almost missed her chair twice when sitting down.

In the flurry of festivities no one else even blinked, but knowing her as he did Anakin was fairly certain this was the drunkest he had ever seen her.

She was usually so good at holding her drink—better at it than him despite her petite frame if he was honest—but perhaps she lost track of how many times her glass was refilled while she rounded the room and conversed with her fellow senators.

Part of him did think it might not be so terrible for his overwhelmed wife to relax a bit and stop carrying the problems of the galaxy on her shoulders for just an evening. But if her unsteady dancing ended up plastered all over the HoloNet come tomorrow morning, he doubted Padme would agree.

Force forbid if she decided to sing.

So that meant it was time to take his intoxicated wife home, where his were the only eyes to witness her uncharacteristic clumsiness. She was lucky his mission ended in time for him to attend this gala and that he had managed to snag himself an invitation to be close to her tonight, so he could save her from the embarrassment he didn't need the Force to sense was approaching.

He had to act before the selected speakers began their droning—discussions on the good of the galaxy—or they would never be able to escape.

He had been planning to get his love alone when everyone was distracted by the dancing, but if there was one thing Anakin was good at it was improvisation. Seizing the moment, he approached the table where she had finally succeeded in sitting down.

Padme lowered her goblet and smiled widely at his approach, the brightness threatening to burn him. Dressed in deep blue—his favorite color on her—she was a vision.

"Hi, Ani." Her words tumbled out, a touch too loud considering their proximity. "How do you like the gala? I know you don't like fancy events, but this one is nice. Have you tried the Correlian wine?" Her Force signature, always the most vibrant in the room to him, was unusually swirled and chaotic.

"Come on, Padme, it's time to go home."

Padme blinked, and adorably scrunched up her brow as she tried to understand him. "But the gala just started, Ani. And there's going to be dancing later. Don't you want to dance with me, Ani?"

"We can dance at home, if you like. Let's go."

Using the Force, he knocked the goblet off the table and what was left of the crimson wine spread across the white marble floor.

Padme frowned down at it, but before she could protest Anakin grabbed her hand and the wine was forgotten as she giggled and struggled to keep up with his long strides. Anakin often wondered how she walked in heels like those on normal days, now he feared she would fall if he let go of her hand even momentarily. If only he could just carry her out of this place.

"Is Senator Amidala alright?" In his haste, he almost hasn't seen Senator Motha standing just by the door.

"She's fine," Anakin replied, keeping his face impassive. "It just seems the hoi-broth didn't quite agree with her, so she's asked me to take her home."

Before the Corellian senator could respond, Anakin had pulled his wife out the door and then they were in the cool evening breeze, the first dusts of stars just appearing on the horizon.

He did a quick scan of the area and not sensing anyone nearby, slipped his wife into his arms and carried her the rest of the way to his starfighter.

Except for Padme's impulsive decision to start massaging his shoulders halfway home, which nearly made him crash into the nearest building, the trip was a smooth one.

After Anakin brushed off C3p0's frantic concerns about his mistress' apparent illness, the normally polished Senator Amidala lay flat on her bed, feet hanging off the edge. Dark hair pooled around her pale face, the contrast lovely in the rising moonlight creeping in through the blinds. Even disheveled like this, she was still the most beautiful creature Anakin had ever seen. He pulled off her right shoe (the left one having gotten lost somewhere along the way) and gently lifted her up to unfasten the ruffled gown. Without any help from her, the task was more difficult than anticipated. Besides being hidden in lace, the kriffing buttons refused to budge. Couldn't she ever order a dress that just slid on and off normally? Why were they all so complicated?

"Ani, do you love me?"

The abrupt question made him pause from his task and kiss her forehead. "Of course I love you, Angel. Why else would I put up with you?"

She giggled at his teasing. "I love you too, Ani."

Before he realized what she was doing, Padme was reaching for his belt and fumbling to unfasten it.

"Not now, Padme." He got out through gritted teeth, carefully removing her hands. "You need to rest."

She grumbled but settled back down and let him resume his battle with her outfit.

Finally finding all of the buttons and undoing them-victory! –he pulled the dress over Padme's head and tossed it somewhere on the floor. He would move it later so it wouldn't wrinkle. That would certainly make Padme grumpy in the morning.

By now Anakin knows every inch of his wife's body, could close his eyes and envision her breathtaking form perfectly (does, occasionally, when space got too cold and he had been away from her arms and her bed for too long) but he didn't dwell on it as he pulled her light purple nightgown over her head. He doubted she would mind him seeing her body even in this state, but since she didn't willingly bear herself to him tonight he covered her as quickly as possible.

What did Padme do the time he had a few too many drinks? The memory was a bit blurry, but he was pretty sure she made him drink a glass of water.

Pleased with himself for remembering, Anakin helped Padme get under the covers before heading to the kitchen.

"Here, Padme," he handed her the glass, keeping hold of it with the Force in case her fingers slipped. "Drink this so you'll feel better in the morning."

"I feel fine now. Do you want me to show you how fine?" She reached for his belt once more but that time Anakin took a step back before she could touch him.

"Just drink this first, okay?"

After the glass was empty he helped Padme back down, crawling in behind her as soon as she was settled. The night was still young, but the Jedi found he no longer had the energy or desire to do anything else. At least he and Padme were together, even if the evening didn't end in quite the way they had anticipated.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Good. Tired." Padme yawned. "I just wish the room would stop spinning. It's making me dizzy."

They were quiet then, as Anakin stroked Padme's hair while she lay in his arms. Without his Force senses he might have thought her asleep.

Eventually she lifted her head and turned to look at him, dark eyes staring straight into his soul.

"I miss you when you go, Ani." Her soft voice broke the hushed silence as quickly as it had settled. "I don't want you to leave again. Will you stay here with me?"

Something inside him tore and he struggled to retain his composure before her hopeful eyes. How many times had he longed to hear those words from her? Asking him to leave behind the Order and the war that seemed further and further from ending every day and just devote himself to her and the family they could have but was now only a cruel dream for them both.

Speaking as evenly as possible, he smiled down at her.

"All I am is yours, Angel. If you truly want me to leave, I'll do it right now."

Her responding smile was blinding. Instinctively he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, a gesture his wife enthusiastically returned.

Anakin knew that when his wife was sober again in the cold light of morning, she would passionately insist he stay with the Order at least until the war was over, fulfill his duty to the galaxy. He hoped she wouldn't remember this part of the evening at least, or it would make her hate herself more than a hangover ever could.

Padme drifted off shortly afterwards, her even breathing a lullaby in the darkness. The faint sounds of air traffic were the only reminders of the world outside their bedroom.

But Anakin found sleep eluded him now.

Absently stroking Padme's hair, he watched as the flickering lights on the ceiling turned from silver to gold.

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