A/N: Back with an update promised! I'm super stoked the weekend is here and though I have a few things to do (an anniversary date... baseball game—reluctantly) I'm going to try to get some writing done so I can update soon. I can't promise a week, but definitely before the month is up. Send me all the good writing vibes my way! I'm so excited for the next few chapters.

A BIG THANKS to: Lover of A Good Story, JediRia7, FearlessRabbit, Paul Lenzen, sodorland, RyuuShadow, JOurneyRocks13, Olivia, Sfloresf, and the guests!

Xx

An hour, one bantha soup, and two dry whites later could find Padmé staring off miserably, waiting for Obi-Wan to finish his conversation and return to their table to catch them up. The Jedi had been talking to the man—a Hutt trader, according to Skywalker—since they'd arrived, having apparently not noticed their tardiness. Obi-Wan had briefly acknowledged them with a nod, at one point, so there was nothing to do but order their food and hope he had more success than her and Skywalker had had.

Skywalker had thus far failed to prove himself stimulating dinner company. He was of the decidedly boring variation, at least at the moment.

He was quiet and mostly answered her questions with one word answers, if he answered at all. Cordé would call him intense and brooding. Of course, Padmé preferred when he stayed quiet anyway—that did seem to be when they got along best. This way, she could watch him from a distance without needing to actually speak to him. She could admire the perfect image he cut, without having to find herself caught in his disarming gaze. Though there was some rebellious part of her that wanted to engage him… provoke him, even.

"Another white?" The Twi'lec waitress asked her.

"No thank you." Padmé had indulged quite enough. When the waitress left, she turned to Skywalker. "Do you think he's finding out something valuable?" She gesture to where Obi-Wan sat with a tilt of her head.

He appeared to consider it. "Probably not," was his final answer. "More likely, he's getting some tip that will send us far from the Outer Rim to some distant planet where we'll pick up another obscure tip that will likely return us to the Outer Rim to some other random planet where some particularly helpful resident there will send us on another wild chase. Meanwhile, the war will come to an end, and we'll finally discover what was true all along."

She let out an indelicate snort. "And what would that be?"

"That the man's long dead."

"The eternal pessimist." All at once, she wished she hadn't dismissed the waitress so abruptly. She'd had a change of heart and suddenly wanted that third drink after all. She needed all the help she could to deal with him. "I just wish I was doing something." Sitting there, twiddling her fingers in her lap just had the effect of making her feel more anxious. That coupled with Skywalker's unsettling words, and she felt a cross between helpless and furious that she wasn't actively doing something to help.

"I'm sure you could find another gang to kidnap you. Trouble does seem to find you wherever you go. A gift from your goddess, I guess."

She clenched the edge of the table. He was impossible! "That Huttese ale sure has loosened your tongue, hasn't it?"

She grinned in satisfaction as the smirk dropped from his face. "Not a fan of that option, then?"

"Definitely not."

"Then we could always go over to that racer's table—Dud Lee—was it?"

Padmé whipped her head around, shocked to actually find the human racer sitting at a lone booth and crowded by his entourage in the direction Skywalker had indicated with his eyes. "Has he been there the whole time?"

"Only since we walked in."

"Kind of you to finally point it out."

He shrugged. "You're not going to just get an audience with him."

She tried to argue with him, but he shushed her.

"Not unless you play it carefully."

She arched a brow. "Carefully? Do elaborate."

"It's easy. Follow my lead and play along. Can you do that? Can you give up control for a whole—say—fifteen minutes?"

Padmé felt as if she might explode, but swallowed back the snarky retort that was quick to surface. Better to have him on her side then go at it alone, most likely. She straightened to her feet and reached across the table before downing the rest of his ale in one moment of sheer recklessness. She sat the glass back down with a thud and he stared at it, slightly stunned, as if he couldn't quite believe she'd had the gall.

A wave of dizziness washed over her at the same time as a dazzling smile spread across her face. She quirked her head to the side, and he stared at her, eyes narrowed. "Lead the way, Your Lordship."

She left her cloak sitting on her seat and flounced off into the crowd of dancers, making a beeline for the bar. The dance floor was diverse—so many species intermingled and swaying to the loud and oddly lulling music. She froze when she felt two hands come up and grasp her by the hips, pulling her back and into a hardened chest, swaying her to the music.

Alarm caused her to stiffen, but she knew instantly that it was Skywalker who'd grabbed her—she could smell his familiar scent. She felt strangely safe when she was with him, like nothing bad could possibly happen to her. Probably a result of being saved by the man one too many times. At the same time, she felt silly for reveling in the feel of his protection—she wasn't a child and could more than take care of herself. She hardly needed a caretaker to watch over her. Well, barring recent instances.

Still, it was comforting.

He leaned down and whispered into her ear, and she planted her feet to keep from embarrassing herself by doing something so ridiculously stupid as falling back into him. "The racer you said knows your bounty hunter," she could only just discern his voice above the music, and only because he spoke directly into her ear, "he's quite susceptible to flattery, so long as he doesn't feel threatened."

She turned then, and she felt his nose brush against her neck. His breath halted. "You know him?" she tried to ask over her shoulder, creating much needed space between them.

Skywalker paused for a moment, before stepping closer than before, and Padmé's breathing hastened thanks to the change in proximity. "I know of him." His hands tightened around her hips and he swayed them again.

"Fine," and how her voice was somehow hoarse, she was sure she'd never know. It wasn't like she was effected or anything. She could see that Skywalker was merely trying to blend into the crowd. Pushing him away would do her no service other than making him aware of her discomfort. "So we pretend to be enamored fans, I can do that. Let's go."

She tried to push past him, but he stopped her. "Wait. Drinks first."

She'd wanted a drink at one point, but now she was second guessing that desire. Maybe she'd better keep her wits about her. "I'm not sure—"

"We have to look the part."

He steered her to the bar and quickly got the bartender's attention, a miracle in itself, amid the many rowdy guests. "Two Tatooine Sunsets."

Her mouth fell open and she stared at him. The vibrant lights flashing through the bar cast distorted shadows on his face. He looked oddly reminiscent of a fallen angel.

"What?" he asked, feeling her scrutiny.

"Skywalker drinks frilly drinks? My ears must deceive me."

"They're sweet and strong. What's not too like?"

She thought she heard him mutter something about liking sweet things, but the sound was swallowed up amid the noise around them. Their drinks quickly arrived and she was already testing hers, before he firmly ushered them from the bar and closer to where Lee and his gang sat.

The drink was strong, and quite good. Before she knew it, hers was half gone. She immediately noticed a change in Skywalker. He kept a hand on her back and smiled like the liquor had gone to his head when she knew it hadn't. He was always the picture of control. Sounds like a challenge, that insidious voice that had only gotten louder since she'd indulged, was quick to taunt her with. She grimaced, but then he was grabbing her drink and reaching over to set it on the ledge of racer's booth. Lee looked up, noticing them, and she thought it'd be a good opportunity to start gushing and playing the role of the fan, but Skywalker only melted back into the edge of the crowd, pulling her with him.

Oh, wonderful.

It was to be more dancing. Padmé had learned what was required of her as a noble from the Nubian Court, but this… chaos was not something she understood.

"Can't we just… ask for his autograph or something?"

He dismissed her plea with a shake of his head. "Too obvious. We just got here and they've noticed us. Now, in case they were to look further, they'd just see us doing what everyone else is doing. Not a threat." She'd strayed away from him and his brows furrowed, pulling her back. "I thought you said you wanted to do something? Would you rather go back to the table and hope Kenobi's found all the answers we need?"

She worried her lip. The more information the better. Especially from a known associate of the bounty hunter, but he was so paranoid. "No," she said firmly. "I want to do this."

"Then you need to dance."

Letting out a frustrated huff, she shook her head. "I can't!"

"Why not?"

"I don't know how to dance like this, if you can even call it dancing."

"Come on, Padmé."

She stilled at the sound of her name. A shiver ran down her spine. It was the first time she'd heard him utter it, and she was struck with the desire to hear him say it again, even though part of her knew he was just teasing her—challenging her, even.

"Just relax."

It was hard to relax when she felt the return of that mysterious pull, stronger than before. Something palpable and alive buzzed between them, and she was helpless to ignore it. She was again struck with the urge to close the gap between them. His proximity set her nerves on high alert. He moved, coaxing her to do so as well, and she followed his movements as closely as she could manage, making a valiant attempt to keep her mind focused on the mission, where it belonged.

All around her, bodies moved fast and hard, swaying with the music and pulsating with the pounding of the beat. He rocked her slower than their neighbors, allowing her time to adjust to the movements and learn how to move with the music. She felt the liquor she'd consumed heating her vessels, forcing her limbs loose, and making it easier to dance… instinctual.

This wasn't the stiff Nubian dancing she'd learned as a young girl, where every moment was exact, planned, and calculated, it was freeing and as much as she hated to admit it—he was right—once again. Anyone could dance.

She tried not to focus on how good his hand felt pressed over her hip, like it belonged there, only separated by the thin fabric of her white utility pants. Or how pleasant the warmth radiating from his body felt against her own. She tried not to pay attention to the hand splayed over the small of her back, sending delightful tingles throughout her body. She tried not to get sucked into his gaze, but his eyes smoldered with flecks of dark blue inside lighter shades. They were like endless tunnels that pulled her in, and she was helplessly drawn to his stare. She tried to resist—but she failed.

"You're staring," she pointed out, drawing courage from her delightful buzz. "Has my eyebrow started bleeding again?"

His lips twitched in amusement, then his fingers tightened as if remembering just how annoying it had been to swoop in and save her. Damn. She shouldn't have brought it up. Yes, his gaze had definitely darkened. She swallowed, for some unfathomable reason, prepared to apologize again. Why was she always on the verge of apologizing?

His head fell forward, surprising her when it brushed against her forehead. "Promise me you won't do that again."

To anyone else, they'd look like lovers caught up in each other, and blissfully unaware of anyone else. No one would expect the real truth. They weren't lovers… they didn't even like each other… officially. Rather, they were on a dangerous mission and many lives depended on them. That's what this was about. Padmé regretted consuming the alcohol—it threw her—but it was, at the same time, necessary.

"I promise I won't be a liability," she grit out, embarrassed he'd thus far only saw her at her worst and had so little faith in her. "It won't happen again."

He tilted her chin in a gesture that would no doubt make him appear like the doting friend, a practiced and calculated move on his part. She refused to react to it, so she had no idea why she swallowed back a gasp, her eyes scanning his searchingly. "You're missing the point."

On the next sway, she swooned and he caught her.

"Is your mind on the mission?"

She suppressed a glimmer of irritation. "What else would it be on?"

He nodded. "Okay. Let's go. Time to turn things up a notch."

He nudged her towards their drinks and she stumbled forward, relieved and at the same time confused as to why she was in the lead. Her confusion was rapidly dashed as she felt him step behind her, staggering along with her, his head swooping down to nuzzle her neck. All thoughts of acting fled her brain as she tilted her head to the side enthusiastically to give him better access, neglecting to even give her body conscious permission to do so. Dark blond locks brushed her skin and she tensed, wanting suddenly to fist her hands in them and pull. She bit back a moan as he mouthed her neck, closing her eyes and hobbling blindly, only vaguely aware of where she even was. Dear Goddess, what was he trying to accomplish here? How was this at all relative to their plan?

She stumbled to the ledge and almost knocked their drinks over when her hands reached out to seek purchase in something solid.

"Watch where you're going!" someone barked. An angry, slightly irritated tone, Padmé noted.

Her cheeks flamed crimson. "Sorry." She ducked her head, cursing her own stupidity, but cursing him more.

"Lay off them, Nito."

Padmé glanced up to see it was the racer—Dud Lee—who had spoken up for them. She wanted to smile her relief, but that urge was quickly suppressed. The man was positively leering at her. His dug counterpart was staring at her as if she were a bug to be squashed. Ironic—in her opinion.

"Don't you know young love when you see it?" Lee continued good-naturedly. "Or have you never had the pleasure?"

She preened over the fact that she'd been referred to as young. This war coupled with her responsibilities had made her feel ancient. Yet, she couldn't ignore the fact that Lee had so readily bought into the image that she and Skywalker were together. Of all the impossible things. Lee flashed her a smirk, as if they shared some secret, and she reddened further.

Behind her, Skywalker straightened, appearing to just take stock of his surroundings and smirking sheepishly. "Lee?" he asked, with just the right amount of surprise in his voice. "Dud Lee?"

Lee spread his arms in a welcoming gesture. "In the flesh."

"By the Force," Skywalker swore with such obvious false enthusiasm to Padmé, but only because she was beginning to grow accustomed to his ways. "My girlfriend and I are huge fans." He stepped beside her and draped a possessive arm around her side, causing her to stiffen.

Padmé didn't know what to feel. She was reeling at the easy way in which he'd just referred to her as his girlfriend. What in the Seven Sith Hells was he doing? He might have done her the solid of cluing her in, if he were half the gentlemen. Of course, this was Skywalker she was talking about. He might be excellent at concealing his emotions, but she was an open book. A warning would have been appreciated.

Lee's countenance changed, as if viewing Skywalker as a threat. He eyed him like he was measuring his strengths and weaknesses. She thought Skywalker would have been better off pretending to be her brother if they really hoped to glean information from him. Though she was secretly glad they didn't have to go that route.

"We won quite the handsome purse thanks to your success at the races last week."

Padmé needn't have worried. Skywalker could—of course—be as charismatic as he needed to be, should the situation require it. His charms seemed to extend to everyone, regardless of sex or species. He had a knack for knowing just how to play people. Lee relaxed visibly, an indulging grin spreading across his face.

"Let us buy you a drink?" Skywalker molded his expression to one of hopefulness and abject hero worship. "It's the least we could do… to show our appreciation."

"Beat it, humans." The dug fluttered to their side in an effort to brush them away.

Okay, perhaps his charm didn't extend to every species.

"Wait," Lee stopped them, casting Nito a sidelong glance before turning back to them. "Stay for a spell. Present company has grown a bit dull."

Skywalker smirked, and she wondered how Lee failed to see the wicked intent evident on his face. It was becoming glaringly clear to her, and far easier to notice.

~oOo*oOo~

After several rounds of drinks, Amidala no longer tensed under his seemingly careless but actually deliberate touch like she had initially. She was finally getting the hang of playing the role he'd carved for them both. Either that or the alcohol was prodding her along.

He shot her a worried glance. She was laughing harder than he'd ever seen her laugh before at some joke that Lee had told, no longer heightenly aware of Vader's arm around her. He frowned. That wouldn't do. He liked when she noticed him. He slowly dragged his fingers up her bare arm and over the cloth of her shoulder until he reached the skin of her neck. He lightly massaged her there as if it was the most normal thing in the world. She stilled, her eyes going wide.

That was better.

Let her not forget about him completely. Though he was happy to see she'd grown so comfortable to his nearness.

He'd had his eye on Lee's table the entire night while Amidala whipped down spoonful after spoonful of Bantha soup, blissfully oblivious of the close proximity of their target. There were several times he wanted to break out into outright laughter. Could they be so wholly unaware? Her and Kenobi. Why, Vader could have easily kept his mouth shut and it was entirely possible they would have left the bar without stopping to pay their most important link to Tasha the time of day. He was highly tempted to, but then again, the last thing he wanted to do was traverse around the galaxy following loose tips and dead ends. The sooner they were successful, the sooner he was to enacting his own plan.

But if he was going to save the day—again—he was going to do it his way. That meant the little commander was going to be forced well out of her comfort zone. Dark laughter rang in his mind. There may very well be other ways to procure the information they needed, but this was by far the most pleasurable method for him. Besides, she'd already pushed him to his limits.

Dismissing his advice? Risking her own life so recklessly? Letting those bandits get so close to taking her? His fingers curled onto a lock of her hair possessively and she emitted a small gasp. He'd be damned if he'd let some third-rate gangsters get his hands on something destined to be his. He shifted his gaze over to her, letting his eyes rove over her. She shifted uncomfortably under the heat of his gaze, though she was looking away. His eyes were hooded as they examined her—his future possession. For that's what she was—a possession he would demand at a later time. There really wasn't anything more to it than that.

Time spent tonight with her served as a reminder of just what he would receive when he would ask his master for his reward. The way she moved in his arms… the way her body fit against him so perfectly… the way he could read her wants and desires as clearly as he was reading news articles on a datapad. He could grow accustomed to having the feisty commander under his control. If he was uncertain about asking for her after the success of his mission—he certainly had no qualms about asking now.

It would be a requirement.

"Do you live here?" Lee asked, the question seemingly more directed towards Amidala. The racer was far too enamored with her for Vader's liking. "In Tatooine, I mean? I've never seen you before."

Beside the racer, the dug's wings flapped in irritation. Fed up with the bug's insolence, Vader sent a wave of the Force to silence the creature, rendering it useless, before freezing over what he'd done. He'd summoned the Dark side of the Force without stopping to conceal the effort like he normally would. Damned Tatooine ale. His eyes scanned for Kenobi to see if he felt the disturbance. The Jedi twisted in his seat, looking mildly perplexed. He blessedly did not cast his suspicious gaze on Vader. He'd simply have to be more careful.

"Naboo, actually," Vader answered quickly, unable to keep his hands from roaming. The Dark side of the Force only fed his physical desire to dominate the woman beside him. "Just a planet over."

"Avid fans of the races!" Lee determined, as if they'd made the pilgrimage just for podracing alone—like that was enough to bring someone to this Force-forsaken planet, Vader thought scathingly. Lee nodded to them in approval. "Come all this way just to see the festivities live."

"Not only that," Vader flashed a disarming smile, feeling sure his cheeks were going to throb the next day thanks to all the blasted smiling he'd done. "We're here to seek out a family friend of Padmé's."

The commander froze under his ministrations and he felt dark triumph sear through him. He knew calling her by her first name made her uncomfortable, and she'd never extended him her permission, but their current situation worked to Vader's benefit. She could hardly correct him now.

"A family friend?"

"Yes. You might know him? He goes by the name Tashu."

"My uncle." Amidala smiled sweetly, and Vader mentally rolled his eyes, squeezing her in warning. A bounty hunter was likely to be a clone, therefore would be hard-pressed to be her uncle. She seemed to come to the same conclusion, although a moment too late. "Of sorts, anyway. My father and he were like brothers. They fought in the Clone Wars together."

Lee, who had previously stilled upon hearing the revelation of just who they sought, relaxed, seemingly satisfied by her hastily formed explanation. Vader internally scoffed at the man. People were so weak, as his master had always said. So quick to trust, when they should be questioning everything. Yet here was this man, renowned for his sharp instincts and racing ability, so besotted by a mere girl he couldn't bother to see he was being played. Vader would never be caught making such a misstep.

"I know the man," he replied happily, looking between them as if he expected to be presented with a medal for his profession of knowledge. "It's been ages since I've seen him." He leaned over and spoke in hushed tones behind his hand. "Hiding from the Imperialists, you know. Last I heard, he was holed away on some planet swarming with hammerheads." He laughed jovially.

"Er… hammerheads?" Amidala did not appear impressed, nor at all enlightened by the news.

Vader jumped in. "Do you know which planet, exactly?"

Amidala favored him with a grateful look.

Lee shook his head, cheeks flushed from the alcohol they'd consumed. "No, no. I'm rather afraid I don't remember. Spoke to him on Holonet last, I did. A right paranoid fellow, anymore. Not as fun as he used to be."

Amidala pursed her lips, looking disturbingly sober despite the abundant amount of spirits they'd consumed. "I see."

The topic turned from the elusive bounty hunter, and Vader began the task of disengaging himself and Amidala from the table when it became clear they would get no further information. The table was becoming lively with people clamoring to sit with the famous racer, and get his attention. Many pathetic hanger-on's and groupies were trying to get a seat. Vader would relinquish his happily.

"We better go," Vader said with false enthusiasm, "a craft to catch in the morning, you know."

Lee nodded. "Aw, so soon? But of course. Young love, I remember. Lovely to meet you two."

Vader laced his fingers between Amidala's, relishing in the few more minutes they could play pretend before things went back to normal. If it were up to him, he could get used to this level of intimacy. He'd wager her feelings were quite the opposite.

"Hey there!" Lee called after them.

Vader arched a perfect brow, no longer feeling capable of keeping up the guise of an enamored fan. He might be on the verge of becoming sick from the act he was pulling. It was all far too sweet for his liking. Vader was not used to acting such a way, far more familiar with demanding what he wanted from anyone unfortunate enough to cross paths with him.

"Floating cities."

"What?" Amidala frowned and Vader felt her confusion mirrored with his own.

"I remember something else… he complained about floating cities. You know, missed his land legs. Hope that helps."

Amidala waved goodbye and Vader impatiently tugged her to his side, gliding through the masses and irritated by what little information they'd received.

"Is that enough to go on?" she asked hopefully, a slight slur to her voice.

He snorted. "Hardly."

"Well, I hope it wasn't a complete waste." He spun her out and she caught him by the shoulders. "What was that for?" Her scandalized expression caused laughter to stir in his chest.

"We can't just leave. That'd be suspicious. Have to stay for a moment, at least."

She sighed. "No one's even watching."

"Does it ever get tiring—micromanaging everything?"

She pouted. "Not really, no. Someone has to make sure things are getting done properly."

"Just for tonight, rest assured I'm that someone."

With no further objections, he whirled her onto the dance floor, noticing with some disappointment that Kenobi seemed to be finishing up his never-ending conversation with that trader, finally. Soon the night would come to an end. He had to admit, his time on Tatooine this round had been far more entertaining than that of his night's on the Azure. Training under the Light side of the Force could be incredibly taxing. He was grateful for the much needed reprieve, if only for a day.

He looked down, noting the lost, almost whimsical expression on the commander's face as she stared up at the flickering lights dotting the ceiling. He took advantage of her altered state, spinning her violently until she became dizzy from exertion, and forcing her to lean on him for support. Once more, she seemed annoyingly unaware of his presence, and so he slowed their dancing and brought them closer together.

Her eyes widened and she looked up dazed. Vader arched a brow, finding it funny how much the prim and proper commander was letting him get away with. If she were in her right state of mind, she'd surely be having a coronary by now. As it was, there was something to be said about stripping away inhibitions—they left nothing but the truth. Maybe she liked to give up control… when there was someone strong enough to make her.

Surprising him further, she swooped up on her tip-toes and linked her hands around his neck, pressing her face against his chest in a full on embrace like he'd seen her do with Kenobi and Tyro. When she broke away, she leaned up to whisper in his ear. "Thank you for saving me."

He suppressed a shiver, blaming the desert air. It could get cold at night.

"You know," she pulled away, meeting his gaze with open curiosity. He could get lost in those stormy brown eyes. "Has anyone told you? You're such a good actor…" she glanced around, as if about to divulge a secret. "It's scary… like, scary good."

"Perhaps you could benefit by learning to hide your emotions a bit more," he told her candidly, because she really could. Didn't she know knowledge was power? It only gave people leverage over her when she divulged what she knew so readily.

She smiled a half smile, staring at him fondly. "I think you worry too much." She buried her face into his chest and yawned, the sound muffled. He carded his fingers between her chestnut locks almost subconsciously. "People aren't as bad as you make them out to be… Anakin."

He stopped moving, stunned into a sort of shock by hearing that name coming from her lips.

He usually despised the name, reminding him of a weak and powerless boy who had no control over his life whatsoever... to say nothing about the people he cared about. But when she said it, it dredged up feelings unfamiliar and foreign. Feelings he knew he was trained to believe he was better off without. Suddenly, the memory of his mother he'd pushed away earlier felt stronger now more than ever. This was her planet, where her spirit rested, and he'd always have that connection, no matter how hard he tried to sever it. Damned Light side of the Force, stirring emotions he'd rather forget. He was tempted to call upon the Dark side of the Force, just to counteract the Light and its bewitching ways, but he dare not risk it, especially affected by spirits as he was. He might find himself unable to conceal a second slip-up from Kenobi.

"What?" she paused, misinterpreting his silence. "You called me by my name. It's only fair." She tugged on his hands, bringing them to her waist. "Also, don't think I didn't notice." He needn't ask her what, because she was happy to enlighten him. "The way that first rodian, choked and fell over dead on its feet in front of us? The same way that Kouhun did on Indoumodo? Always seems to happen with you around."

He stiffened and pulled away from her, but she pulled him back.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," she assured him, lightly tracing the muscles clenching in his arms. "You're highly Force sensitive, that's what it means, even if you didn't know before. I think it's brilliant."

Brilliant? If only she knew. If only she recalled who else it was exactly, that could choke people at will, harnessing energy from the Force. She may not be so quick to herald him a hero.

She laid her head against him and for the next few songs, was content to move with him slowly. The rest of the bar moved with the tempo—hard and fast—but he and Padmé danced to a rhythm of their own. It was one only they seemed capable of hearing. For a few moments, Vader allowed himself the luxury to forget. To forget about who he was and what he stood for, to forget about the pressing restrictions of his mission, to forget that one day he would have to betray this girl and her friends in the most ruthless way imaginable. He conveniently let the knowledge slip his mind, content to enjoy a few more moments of blissful peace, and didn't inconvenience himself with examining why such a revelation would bother him in the first place.

Padmé was relying on him so heavily, he wondered if she'd fell asleep and he may be forced to carry her back to the ship. He eyed the column of her neck with rapt attention, recalling the way she tasted when he played actor in front of the racer. It was… quite a lovely neck. He wouldn't mind slipping into the role of the commander's love interest again, should the situation call for it. It was hard to forget the way she'd writhed in his arms, completely taken aback when he'd decided to strike. He let his hand roam her back, taking advantage of her uncharacteristic compliance. On any other day, she might very well slap him, even thrust the barrel of a blaster in his face should he dare make such a move. He savored this time when the feral beast inside her slumbered, leaving a submissive and kind girl in its place.

A throat cleared and he looked up.

Kenobi stood in front of him, amused eyes dipping down to the girl in Vader's arms. Vader froze, experiencing an unfamiliar pang of guilt.

"We found a friend of the bounty hunter," he informed the Jedi when Kenobi drew closer, his tone crisp and business-like. "She fell asleep." He gestured to the girl in his arms, who had been so comfortable in his presence, she'd allowed herself to doze.

"Hey," Kenobi raised his arms in something like surrender, "no need to explain to me." He gave Vader a wry grin.

"We did get information," Vader stressed, irritated by the assumptions Kenobi looked to be making, "about the bounty hunter's whereabouts."

It wasn't much to go on, but it was something more than they had before.

"So did I," Kenobi offered, stepping forward to help shoulder the weight of Padmé. "I found out he had his ship outfitted for water landings. The trader saw Tasha request the adjustments when he was repairing his own ship. We can, at the very least, narrow down his location to a planet that's likely covered in water."

Vader sneered distastefully as Kenobi came to help him. He would have preferred being left alone to the task. He wanted badly to swoop the woman up into his arms. He had no idea where such an urge had come from. Even so, he was forced to accept Kenobi's help, and both of them took off in the direction of the ship, parked and hidden in the sprawling desert dunes just outside of town.

"Planet covered in water… and teeming with hammerheads, apparently, as well as floating cities."

"Oh?" Kenobi perked his brow in interest. "Is that what you discovered?"

Vader nodded.

"We can conduct some research when we return to the Azure."

The walk was slower than it had been that morning, what with helping the commander along, but Vader relished seeing the desert landscape of his home planet, bathed by the light of the moon and appearing eerily beautiful. A breeze ruffled his hair, having long forgotten to don his hood, and he once more felt the stirring of a familiar presence.

Be brave, Anakin!

He flinched away from the words, pressing his eyes closed before he let the memory consume him, suddenly feeling as if he couldn't leave the planet fast enough. It was full of painful memories, ghosts, and regret.

Beside him, Padmé stirred. "Where we going?" she slurred.

Kenobi soothed her, and Vader became stricken with jealousy. Though the Sith would never resort to comforting someone, he hated that Kenobi could. Something clenched in Vader's gut.

"It's alright," Kenobi said, gently shifting her weight. "We're going back to our ship."

"Oh." More aware, she tried to help, stepping with renewed enthusiasm.

"We've learned what we needed here," Kenobi intoned wisely. "Now it's off to the next adventure."

Vader could hardly wait.

~oOo*oOo~