This was originally going to be a oneshot, but my muse decided otherwise. Please review!

The throbbing in her head was the first thing Padme was aware of upon regaining consciousness.

This was what she imagined a herd of banthas stampeding through her skull would feel like. Falling out of a gunship and tumbling down a sand dune hadn't been this unpleasant. Lacking the energy to even roll over, she squeezed her eyes tighter and prayed for oblivion.

Wait—slowly, she opened her eyes, squinting as the light burned them.

She was in her apartment in her own bed and she had no memory of how she had gotten there. That was rather unsettling. Well, what did she remember? She clearly remembered an early morning meeting the day before, arguing about whether or not to order more clones, and she definitely remembered the gala—the gala! Bits and pieces of the previous night began floating back to her, surreal as a fever dream. She recalled finally arriving after an exhausting week of committee meetings and debates and speeches, her schedule so packed she hardly even had time for meals. She remembered talking to Senator Organa about budgeting. At some point she was handed a glass of wine—that's right, she drank a fair amount of wine and from then on everything had been terribly funny and walking in a straight line became a challenge.

The memory made her burn with embarrassment, and in that moment she wanted nothing more than to sink into her bed and just stay there for the rest of time. Until now, Padme Amidala Naberrie-Skywalker—former Queen of Naboo and current senatorial representative of her home world—had never drank so much she felt ill the next day and she had certainly never drank so much she couldn't even remember it afterwards. And at an official event no less! How could she be so irresponsible? Someone might have noticed and informed the queen. Or worse, the HoloNet.

Panic set in. She sat up quickly and regretted it immediately as spots danced before her eyes and her head swam. For a moment she was certain she was about to vomit all over her covers, but then the feeling faded. Eyes adjusting to her blindingly bright apartment, she noticed a full glass of water on the nightstand.

Another memory hit her like a blaster bolt—Anakin.

Her husband had just returned from the front lines and he was there.

As if her thoughts had summoned him (and perhaps they actually had), her Jedi husband walked through the door clad in his darkest robes, blonde hair in disarray. He looked a bit tired, as always, but despite this he was still irritatingly handsome in the morning sunlight.

Padme didn't need a mirror to know she looked as looked awful as she felt. She could only wonder what he was thinking now as he regarded her. "Morning, Ani," she greeted him.

He returned her faint smile, but his eyes were dark with concern. "You don't look good."

Hungover or not, Padme would react to her husband's comment. "Thank you so much."

He snorted. "You know what I meant. You look like you aren't feeling well."

She shrugged, still a little abashed, even though this was Anakin and he would never judge her. "It will pass."

"Still, I'm sorry you feel sick, Angel. Can I get you anything?"

What she needed was answers. "Can you tell me what happened? How bad was it last night?"

"Not too bad," he replied, dropping down on the bed next to her. He gave her an apologetic look when the movement made her wince. "No one even noticed except for me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he answered immediately. "It was crowded and we left early so no one had time."

"Good." Padme rubbed her temple, thanking the gods Anakin had been there. His tendency to act quickly could be quite helpful at times.

"How much do you remember?" Anakin asked, watching her with a startling gleam in his blue eyes. She swore she would never get used to that gaze of his, no matter how many years of marriage they shared.

"Not much after we left the gala," she admitted.

"Do you remember coming home at all?"

"No," she replied, frowning in concentration. "Not really. Just getting on your starfighter and then waking up here."

He nodded and glanced down at the covers, fingers absently tracing circles in the fabric.

"Thank you for helping me," she sighed. "I can't believe I did that."

"It happens. And I'm sure that at some point all of those senators and state officials have been in the same place you were."

He was being sweet, trying to reassure her, and she should appreciate that. He got her out of the mess she had made the night before, he didn't need to hear her self pity now. But somehow she couldn't stop poking at the wound.

"Perhaps, but I don't think any of them did it at a formal event in front of representatives from all over the galaxy."

Anakin sighed and gently lay down next to her, carefully lining up his body next to hers. "Everyone slips up sometimes, Padme."

She exhaled sharply and turned to face him. "I don't have time to slip up, Ani. There's too much at stake. At this point I don't think I'll ever drink again."

Anakin laughed. "You'll get over that in time."

Padme disagreed, but wasn't in the mood to argue. "Thank you again for bringing me home," she said sincerely. "I really am sorry."

"Don't be. It's my duty as your husband to take care of you," Anakin smirked, earning himself an eye roll and a smack to the chest.

"My hero," she replied, only half jokingly. She decided against reminding him of the time she had helped him in a similar situation. This was Anakin, anyway. He had no shame.

"And at least you're a nice drunk. Some of the men get rowdy when they drink, and they're a lot bigger than you. Heck, you should see Obi Wan."

That made her smile, albeit weakly. "Well, I'm glad I was nice to you."

Something in his blue eyes flashed, but it was gone so quickly she wasn't certain if she had imagined it or not.

As much as she wanted to just pull the covers back over her head and stay there with her husband for the rest of the day, they both had duties to attend.

"What time is it? Won't they be missing you at the Temple?"

Usually Anakin was back at the Temple by dawn, and if the sunlight streaming through the blinds was any indication, it was well past that. When was the last time she slept this late? It was definitely before the war.

"Maybe. I'll tell them I got held up."

"You should go back," she sighed. "I'm sure you have a lot to do." And she didn't want to get him in any more trouble than he was probably already in.

"Are you sure?"

"I'll be fine here. I might just work from home today, as much as I'm able."

Padme was well used to being the responsible one by now, but she still felt a twinge of disappointment when her husband obeyed her and sat up.

"Alright. Drink water and try to get some rest, okay?"

"I will. You'll be back tonight, won't you?" Their time together was precious and she regretted wasting it, but she would make it up to him later.

"Of course." Anakin smiled down at her, but it didn't quite touch his eyes.

Padme closed her eyes once more. Just a few more minutes and then she would finally get up and start her day. Queens don't get days off—she had worked through fevers and chills alike and got through it then. She would get through this now.

She felt a gentle pressure as a damp cloth was pressed against her forehead. Then the cool sheets rustled around her as Anakin readjusted them.

Suddenly his lips were on hers, warm and gentle. "Goodbye, Angel. I'll see you tonight." Then all was quiet.

Sighing, Padme settled back into the covers. It seemed like everything turned out fine last night thanks to her husband, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right with Anakin. Maybe he was irritated with her for ruining their night and didn't want to show it while she was still sick. She would ask him again when he came back, make sure all was well between them.

That was, if she was still alive by evening. She winced as she reached for the glass of water on her nightstand, the movement increasing the pounding in her head. Now it was time to call C3P0 to fix her some breakfast and plenty of water. She had work to do.