When Padmé forbids Anakin from riding wild shaaks, he has an interesting Plan B.
She Loves Him (Not)
by Yellow Dart Vader
(This story can also be found at the Pad-Ani Fanfic Archive (www (dot) padanifanfic (dot) com).)
Rays of sunlight bathed the lush meadow, and Padmé and Anakin had recreated the scene of the picnic they'd shared just a few months ago before they had declared their love for each other.
"Come on, Padmé!" Anakin exclaimed with childlike exuberance. His large boots crunched the blades of grass beneath his feet as he sauntered down the hill with Padmé just a few paces behind.
"No!" Padmé reached out to grab her husband's dark tunic, but he squirmed just out of her reach. "Haven't you heard a word I said?"
Anakin turned to face her, eyes shining wry with amusement. "What?"
"Get back here." When he stood fixed in place with his arms folded across his chest, she continued, "I am putting my foot down."
He half-laughed, but it came out more like a snort. "Putting your foot down?"
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. The urge to wipe the annoying grin right off his face coursed through her body. "You can't ride a wild shaak."
Anakin rolled his eyes. "Oh, Padmé, come on. Relax! It's fun!"
"Fun? How in the galaxy could riding the back of a feral animal possibly be construed to be fun?"
"Feral? Construed? Now you're using your big Senator words."
"Are you mocking me?"
"Never, M'lady." He mock-bowed.
Before Padmé could say anything, Anakin flashed a cocky grin and sprinted off toward a pack of grazing shaak.
She tried to follow him, but knew she would never be able to catch up to him. "Anakin!"
He shrugged before he approached the large, dumb animal. "This will be easy," he muttered.
"What would Obi-Wan say if he saw you using the Force so recklessly?"
Anakin sighed. "Animals can be our greatest allies through overgrown terrain. He'd say, 'Good job.'"
"Would he?" Padmé came beside him and touched his shoulder. "Even though you are recklessly using the Force to subdue an animal for your own pleasure?"
Ignoring her question, Anakin tried one of his own. "Do you want to ride with me?"
"Have you not heard a word I said?"
"Why don't you want me to ride?"
"Because --" She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "-- You were almost killed last time."
"I was not!" He put his hands on her shoulders and gazed into her eyes. "Padmé, I was never in any danger --"
"-- That's right." She rolled her eyes. "You just wanted to frighten me."
Anakin brushed a stray curl from her face. "No, of course not." He tilted his head and smiled. "I wanted you to kiss me."
She huffed. "Did it work?"
He sighed. "No."
"Do you think it will work this time?"
"Maybe." He leaned in with his lips puckered.
Before his lips connected with her skin, she pulled away. "Maybe not. If I were you, Master Jedi, I wouldn't count on it."
"Aah, but that's where you're mistaken." He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. "I think I have a pretty good chance this time." When she didn't so much as smile, Anakin ran a finger down her cheek and said, "Come on, don't worry about me."
She grabbed his prosthetic hand and pulled him to her. "Please, Anakin, don't try to ride the shaak again."
"But --"
"-- I'm serious. Please, humor me."
He rolled his eyes, but pulled her close. "What is the real reason you don't want me to ride?"
"I don't want you to get hurt."
His metal index finger tilted her chin up until she looked into his eyes. "Is that the real reason?"
"No . . ." She looked at the picnic materials strewn around the blanket and then up at the sun, which had nearly fallen to the horizon.
"Tell me."
She grabbed his arms, one cold metal and the other warm flesh, and implored him to listen. "I don't want to waste our last few hours together. And --"
"-- Time we spend together will never be wasted."
"It might be if you spend the whole time in a healing trance because you broke all of your bones falling off a running shaak."
Anakin tilted his head back and laughed. "You really doubt me."
She shook her head. "Of course not, but --"
"-- No buts." He followed her gaze toward the horizon and heaved a dramatic sigh. "I'm not ready to leave you."
"I know. But it's our duty." She pulled him away from the shaak and led him back to their picnic area.
"We still have time." Anakin tackled her and pulled her to the grass. He pinned her beneath him and left a series of kisses around her face and along her neck.
Padmé squealed with delight and tried to push him away, but to no avail. Before she realized what was happening, he stood and swept her into his arms.
"Anakin --?"
"-- We have time enough for this!" He jogged away from the picnic area with her wrapped in his arms.
She tapped his chest and said, "What are you doing?"
"You'll see, my love."
"You're not trying to put me on a shaak . . ."
He tightened his grip when she squirmed to free herself. "Never, M'lady."
She screamed when his artificial right hand covered her eyes. "What are you doing?"
"You'll see." His chest shook with laughter.
"You're not . . . Anakin!" The deafening crashing from a waterfall hitting the lake below and the cool sprits of water on her face made her instantly realize where Anakin had taken them and what he planned to do. "Anakin, this is a new dress!"
"Well, then, we'll have to remove it first."
Before he jumped into the lake, in one fluid motion, he pulled the dress over her head and laid it on the edge of the lake. And then . . .
Cold. Wet. Hatred.
They were underwater.
Anakin held her tightly and brought them to the surface.
When she opened her eyes, he smiled at her with the crooked grin she had fallen in love with. But now . . .
He looked like he wanted to kiss her; she recognized the predatory look in his eyes. If she hadn't been so angry, she might have wanted him too. The way the water dripped from the ends of his long hair gave him an almost boy-like innocence.
But he was anything but innocent.
She sputtered, "I love you, Anakin, but right now . . . I hate you!"
He shook his head. Then he pushed a few strands of wet hair out of her face, while pressing her against his chest while he fought to keep them afloat. "You can't hate me."
"I do hate you!" She pounded against his chest. "You have to let me hate you . . . at least for --!"
All further protests faded to nothingness when his lips pressed against hers.
"I love you, Padmé."
She smiled against his lips, and offered one half-hearted protest, "I hate you, Anakin."
When their lips broke apart, she whispered, "Please don't leave me."
The end.
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