Summary: Being the wife of Lord Vader isn't as glamorous as it may seem from afar. Written in response to some unintentionally funny Vader/Padme car sex (informers' names omitted to protect the snark). Rated PG-13.

A Wife's Duty

Lord Vader was not meant to be a family man. If one did not value his/her own life and chose to draw straws, he/she would helpfully point out that the Dark Lord did, in fact, have a family. That would be as far as he/she got, too, before Lord Vader crushed his/her trachea.

As Anakin, he had always wanted what he couldn't have: a wife; a life that was, by most people's standards, "normal"; his mom alive. It had seemed so banal, and yet, because of his commitment to the Jedi Order, all of this was held just out of his reach, forbidden.

And then, things changed: Palpatine, revealed at long last to be the Sith lord who had been craftily manipulating the civilized universe for decades, overthrew the democratic order and crowned himself Emperor. Anakin, after an uncomfortable bath in a river of lava left him shitting in a bag and breathing like an asthmatic Wookiee for the rest of his days - he had Obi-Wan to thank for that - built up his strength as Darth Sidious' lap dog, eventually managing a successful overthrow involving, rather anticlimactically, smothering his new Master with a pillow. Once he stepped into his newly-forged position of power, he thought the hard part was over.

If only running the universe was that easy.

"Daddy, Luke keeps putting his foot on my side!" four-year-old Leia whined, her voice shrill and unhappy.

"Only because Leia flicked a booger at me when we were in the Perma-Wal-Mart," Luke protested.

Vader groaned, though with his respirator, it sounded no different than when he breathed any other time. "If you both don't knock it off, we're not going to get Burger Emperor for dinner." Conciliatory protests and begging commenced. Satisfied, Vader turned to Padme. "I don't understand why you won't let me drive."

His wife tossed him an irritated look. "We've had this discussion before, Ani," she frowned, tapping freshly-manicured hands on the steering wheel. "It's my car. And anyways," she continued, "I like to drive." As if on cue, she made a late turn, rarely missing colliding with two other vehicles, whose drivers honked angrily.

"I know that," Vader said, half glad not to have been mangled further by a car crash, and half amused as his wife's expense. "It's just that I was a pilot. I like to drive."

"I'm gonna be a pilot someday," Leia chimed in, momentarily ignoring her brother.

"Nuh-uh, girls can't be pilots," Luke countered.

"They can so!" Leia smoldered, kicking Luke in the shins.

"Ow," he yelped. "You're just a cootie pilot."

"Shut up!"

"No, you shut u- aaahh, Dad, she pinched my arm. Ow! Leia, Leia OW, quit it."

"I can't quit, I'm a crab! I'm going to give you cooties with my pinchers!"

"I know someone who isn't getting a muja pie for desert," Padme sing-songed, admiring her beauty mark in the mirror before hastily merging lanes and nearly killing them all for the second or third time that day. Vader started to point it out, but simply hung onto the oh-shit bar above the vehicle's passenger door and stared out the window.

While Luke and Leia squabbled anew over which one of them would not be getting pie, Vader continued to make his case. "I just think that there are some issues we can work on, and I'd like to do that," he said plaintively. "The car thing is one of them - not only do I feel more comfortable driving, but ... I mean, did we really have to get one so small? I'm the Emperor! We should have an entire fleet to travel us around."

"Oh, Ani," Padme said, waving him off. "There's nothing wrong with this car."

"It's cramped," Vader complained. "I have no leg room, and my helmet always brushes the ceiling. Plus, my cape gets all wrinkled."

"Eww, Luke just wiped his nose on your cape, Daddy," Leia squealed.

"I like this car," Padme repeated more firmly, ignoring her children, as she was wont to do. "Breha and I always get lots of attention when we go out to ... shopping," she finished awkwardly. "We go shopping a lot. I mean, what would you have me do, Ani, drive around in that old clunker that your Master used to have?"

"I'll thank you not to mention him," Vader glowered. "And I'm not 'Ani' anymore."

"Fine, Lord Ani," Padme giggled. Conversation ceased momentarily as she pulled up to the drive-thru window at Burger Emperor, nearly taking out a stop sign in the process. Soon, the aroma of greasy fast food smelled up the enclosed area. "Here, Ani, hold these," Padme ordered, plunking an awkwardly balanced drink carrier into her husband's lap. Then she accelerated with unnecessary force, sloshing half the contents of the four cups onto his suit.

"See, this is exactly what I'm talking about," he griped. "You completely emasculate me. I'm just a trophy husband to you. A lap dog. A drink holder," he ranted.

"I like orange soda," Luke interrupted.

Padme frowned. "It hasn't exactly been a picnic for me, either, Ani," she complained. "It's like the therapist told you: You can't always make these big displays to 'prove your love' whenever you don't feel like you have the upper hand. Sometimes, it's more important just to listen to what I want."

"I bought you this car, didn't I?" Vader snapped, making little headway in keeping the drinks steady.

"Yes, but you don't like it," Padme retorted. "And you don't like me. You never even tell me I'm pretty, or take me anywhere nice anymore. And I know," she continued, holding up a hand to cease any would-be protests from the passenger seat. "You don't like going out because you're self-conscious about how you look. But I don't even see you at home anymore, either. It's just work, work, work with you."

"I'm the Emperor of the known galaxy," Vader raged, puffing up his chest self-importantly.

"Who cares," Padme sulked. "You choke a few people, burn down some planets, and then spend the rest of the night watching Rogue Jedi re-runs. The droid who empties your colostomy bag gets closer to you than I do!"

"I, well, what about you," Vader countered. "You and your Senator friends. Don't think I don't know what you get up to. With HIM."

"Who?" Padme squawked, paying almost no attention to traffic at this point. Some passing vehicles honked at her, and the occupant of a blue speeder chucked a disposable cup from a different fast food venue at their windshield. Vader made a mental note to find and have him vaporized later.

"You know," he accused, focusing his attention again on Padme. "Organa."

"Bail and I are just co-workers, Ani," she said, rolling her eyes. "His wife and I are friends. But it's not like anyone could blame me if I DID act unfaithful. When was the last time you even made love to me?"

"Not this again," Vader said, letting his head lull back against the seat with a soft thud.

"I mean," Padme continued, "Do you even have a penis anymore?"

"Can we not discuss this in front of the kids?" Vader hissed. From the backseat, Luke made choking sounds as Leia noogied him, holding her brother in a surprisingly firm headlock. "I have a penis," Vader said eventually.

Padme sniffed. "Prove it."

Vader stared at her. "What, here?"

"Are you scared?" Padme coerced, knowing she was getting under her husband's skin - or at least, what was left of it, anyways. "I thought you were the big, bad Emperor. It's not like anybody's going to arrest you."

"Well, what am I supposed to do with the drinks?" Vader protested, shaking them slightly for emphasis, and regretting it immediately as yet more soda dribbled into the crevices of his encasement. Padme just breathed an annoyed, open-mouthed sigh and made a show of watching the road. Angrily, Vader set the drink holder between his prosthetic feet. He looked down at the impressively sized codpiece that was the pride and joy of the suit. "I can't just pull it out," he said finally. "It's only one piece - I'd have to take it off at the shoulders."

"Well, I guess that's how it is if that's how Lord Ani Vader says it is," Padme said sarcastically.

"For kriffing sake ..." Vader swore under his breath. He fumbled with the suit's zipper near the nape of his neck, and began shrugging it off. The required positioning was awkward and uncomfortable, and the miniature size and style of the vehicle hindered the process all the more.

A frustrated flail sent one of the bags of food to scatter all over the back seat. "Gross, don't eat the ones that fell on the floor, Luke," Leia yowled. Vader gritted his teeth as the seat cushion rubbed abrasively over his skin. After four years in the suit, he no longer had open sores, but his skin was still fragile and unattractive. Daily bacta baths still left him looking like a freshly-plucked game hen.

With a groan, he lifted himself up off of the seat just enough to give the suit one good yank. His nether regions exposed, if still nominally flaccid, he sat back down triumphantly. "You were saying?" he asked Padme.

She eyed his generally unmangled parts with disdain. "That's what it looks like now?" she frowned, ignoring Vader's furious expression. "Why does it curve to the side? I don't think it used to curve to the side."

"It always did that," Vader said, through gritted teeth. "You never used to complain."

Padme turned away, disinterested. "You can put it away now, Ani," she said boredly, pulling into the family's private parking lot. "You're going to scare the neighbors."

"What, that's it?" Vader protested. "I go through all that, and you just, you ... you know, Padme, a wife's first duty is to her husband."

"That was before MY husband looked like a giant worm that pees in a bag," Padme said airily. She shut off the engine, and then got out of the car, opening the door for Luke.

"Mommy, can we play with the puppy after dinner?" he asked excitedly. "I wanna give him some of my hamburger." He proffered a squished, half-eaten blob that had once been a burger.

"He needs a bath, too," Leia added.

Padme waved her hand. "If you both get your chores done without a bunch of complaining, we'll see." The twins 'yippeed' excitedly, bounding towards the palace, Leia reaching the door first and attempting to keep Luke from entering.

"Bring the drinks, would you, Ani?" Padme called absently, as she tugged her tiny cell-link from her handbag and tottering after her children on heels. "Breha," she said into the device, and Vader knew that would be the last he'd see of her for the evening. He maneuvered himself back into suit, not bothering to zip the back. The perspiration from the effort of taking it off had left him winded. He needed a shower; he needed a way to off his wife and not have it look suspicious; he needed ... a new life, basically.

And then, he thought of Obi-Wan, the 'puppy' chained to a wall in his dungeon. He smiled. Suddenly, he knew exactly who would perform Padme's wifely duties that evening.