Pairing: Obi-Wan/Padmé
Disclaimer: Star Wars and all its characters are property of Lucasfilm Ltd. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: For Dilly's birthday.

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Padmé wasn't sure whether to be surprised or not when she found Obi-Wan on her balcony the night before she was to leave with Anakin for Naboo. He didn't look as if he were waiting for her. He had his hood up as he stared up at the starless sky. Padmé was hesitant to interrupt him, but she assumed he was there for a reason. Everything Obi-Wan did was for a reason.

"I appreciate you jumping through the window for me," Padmé said as she walked out onto the balcony. She smiled.

Obi-Wan smiled back, a muted expression half-hidden by his beard. He hadn't that the last time they'd been together, and she didn't care for it. It made him look older than he really was. "It's the least I could do for someone as lovely as you, milady."

Padmé stopped by the durasteel railing and looked out at the glittering, never-ending city of Coruscant. It was beautiful in a cold way, but nothing like the natural beauty of Naboo. She glanced at Obi-Wan. In some ways, he was a lot like Coruscant, beautiful, but covered in the rigid trappings of his Jedi Code.

"I assume you never told Anakin about us," she said. She wouldn't dance around the subject, not with Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan paused and lowered his head. A breeze ruffled his robes and sent his hood sliding down his hair. He had so much hair now, shoulder-length and thick. Padmé resisted the urge to run her fingers through it.

"As far as young Anakin knows, I just had a completely normal, almost boring, mission on Naboo four years ago while he was recuperating from injuries. I'd prefer him to keep believing that." Obi-Wan turned his head. "He's far too attached to you."

"At least someone is."

"I'd prefer it if you didn't lead him on. He's just a boy, and he's still adjusting to –"

"Boy? He's twenty years old. He claims you're too strict on him, but I think you coddle him."

"You don't know anything about –"

"And I'm not leading him on. He's relentless. Unlike his Master, he doesn't run away when faced with emotions."

Obi-Wan finally faced her. He had a furrow on his brow, and the lights of the city gave him a strange halo around his head. He said nothing for the longest time. Padmé reflected she might have gone too far.

"I made no promises to you, Padmé. We had been successful in finding the insurgents, and I had to return to the Temple. You knew it was temporary."

This time, it was Padmé who couldn't bear to look at him. "The temporary isn't what bothers me, Obi-Wan. It's how you made it all so insignificant."

She felt warmth on her hands and looked down to find his hand covering her own. She glanced up into his face, finding the warmth in his blue-gray eyes that she'd been missing these past four years. He was so close she could smell his cologne.

"It wasn't insignificant."

Padme gave into her impulse and stroked his hair. It was as soft and full as it looked, reminding her of a time when it had been much shorter. He'd once buried his face in the curve of her neck, and she had stroked his hair. It was a memory she'd long cherished.

"I suspect," she said, "that you're going to tell me that you need to return to the Temple now."

Obi-Wan stared at her with that restrained intensity that no other being in the galaxy possessed. "I could stay the night, if you wanted."

"What about Anakin?"

Obi-Wan lowered his eyelids so his eyelashes looked like smudges of shadows on his cheek. "He can't find out. He'd never forgive me."

"Temporary and secret? You ask a lot of me, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan withdrew. "I should leave. I didn't mean to disrespect –"

"I'll take whatever you have to give me." Padmé grabbed his hands, pulling him back towards her bedroom. "For as long as you're willing to give it."

Obi-Wan relaxed and allowed himself to be led. He said nothing as he helped her undress, his fingers nimble over all the little hooks and buttons. She thrilled at every pass of his light fingers on her flesh. He touched her so gently, as if he were afraid she might break.

Padmé watched the city lights through her large window as he lowered her onto the bed. She couldn't look at his face. She didn't want to see anything more than desire there – not when this was only temporary.

Her body warmed to every touch he made, every press of his flesh to her flesh. There was no resistance, no hesitation, and when the time came for him to stop being gentle and instead be demanding, he played his part well.

To some, it may have seemed that he took her, but to her, it felt like he gave into her every desire. There was little Obi-Wan asked of her, but he gave everything he had. As he had before, when they were on Naboo, surrounded by trees and water, not permacrete and durasteel.

"So beautiful," he murmured as he came. She wanted to tell him she thought the same, but she couldn't speak.

When they were done, he rested beside her on the bed, his breathing still heavy, though he was otherwise quiet. Padmé stared at his hand where it rested on her bare belly, his fingers spread wide enough to cover her from side to side. He was warm and comforting where he rested his head on her shoulder.

"I don't suppose you'd switch duties with Anakin and come with me to Naboo?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

Obi-Wan pulled away and sat up. "I can't. You know I can't."

"I know."

He glanced down at her and stroked her cheek, his fingers pausing when he touched a lock of her hair. "You are very tempting." He stood up and began searching for his clothes.

"No good-bye?" she asked as he dressed. It was almost a crime to cover up that firm, white flesh of his, but he never did seem comfortable with his own nudity.

"Why? We'll see each other again."

Padmé frowned. "It will be different next time."

"Yes, I know."

"And you don't care?"

Obi-Wan turned to face her, his face smooth and blank in the moonlight. She wanted him so badly it almost burned, but she knew he'd never come to her again.

"I never said I didn't care, milady."

Padmé hung her head. She knew he would never give in, never let anything develop. He was a Jedi, and she was a Senator. He knew his place, perhaps better than she did her own.

"I'll miss you," she whispered.

When she looked up, he was gone. Only the faint smell of his sweat and his cologne reminded her that he'd been there at all.

End.