Title: Time to Go

Author: Shampoo30 ([email protected])

Summary: AU, of sorts, Ep III time. Obi-Wan is leaving Padme and taking Luke with him. They must say their goodbyes. Angst and Smut happen.

Rating: R for smut.

Review: PLEASE. I accept all reviews-- good, bad-- flames are loved.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am NOT an Obi-Wan/Padme fan. In fact I am extremely opposed. I wrote this to show my support for SaraC, who is a fan, and a damn decent writer. Love ya darlin! And I wrote it to challenge myself, to see if I could do an angsty O/P story that was any good, since I have so much fun bitching about Obidala stories. But I won't rant here. If you dare to ask I will rant fit to beat the band. g Oh, heck. Let me know what you think, and I promise not to bitch. I swear! Thanks also to Arco for comments and help. [email protected]

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story. Lucasfilms does. Meesa makin' no wupiupi here.

***************

"I must leave."

Padme didn't answer. She had known the words were coming, but that didn't stop her heart from freezing, just a little. When Obi-Wan left, what little remained in her life that was familiar and safe would be further diminished.

Obi-Wan was staring at her, waiting for a reaction. But Padme had none to offer him at the moment. She could only watch him back, while her mind worked, testing and rejecting a myriad of possibilities-- political, strategic, emotional-- everything at her disposal. Trying to think of a reason to keep him here, by her side, and the side of her children.

In the seat next to her, Bail Organa fidgeted but remained silent, knowing that he had no part in this decision. The matter must be resolved between herself and Obi-Wan, and no matter the outcome, dear Bail would support her without hesitation. The ache in Padme's heart eased somewhat at the knowledge. She was glad they'd come here, to Alderaan. But the thought offered only a brief respite from the desolation and sense of loss that threatened to overwhelm her.

The unhappy silence seemed to goad Obi-Wan into further explanation. "I am wanted. You two are not, at the moment. The longer I remain, the more your danger will increase."

Padme continued to stare at him, while her mind worked out an appropriate response. She took in Obi-Wan's cleaned Jedi robes, his straight posture, and the square palms that lay flat on his thighs. His blue eyes were cool, focused on her, but somehow distant. Two days of relative calm had restored Obi-Wan's formal demeanor, the quaint courtliness that had characterized him as long as Padme had known him. He did not look like a man who had just dragged a woman and two infants halfway across the galaxy, fighting crowds and possible capture, through a series of battered refugee transports and seedy spaceports. Their shared desperation of the last few weeks had faded, to be replaced by the resignation of facing an uncertain future.

In his chair across from herself and Bail, Padme mused that Obi-Wan looked like a supplicant at a formal audience. It was no wonder, she decided. Bail's servants had dressed her in rich clothing, as if he wished to make up for the rags she'd dressed herself and her children in for the flight. And the beauty and stateliness of the Alderaani senatorial residence was comforting, but seemed to demand decorum.

At the moment, however, Padme missed the freedom of movement and speech that the rags had allowed. Her thoughts were interrupted when Bail stirred beside her, obviously uncomfortable at her continued silence.

Padme goaded her tongue into speech. "I do not think they will search for you here. You should rest for a while longer. Take time to decide what you are going to do," she told Obi-Wan. It was a weak argument, but the best she had to offer at the moment.

"No. I already know what I need to do," Obi-Wan replied, and dropped his eyes from hers, to watch the fingers in his lap. He sighed, and after a moment, continued. "And there's more, that I must ask of you."

"Anything," Padme replied instantly. But something in Obi-Wan's voice gave her pause. He seemed almost afraid to continue. Fear gripped her heart, and squeezed.

"I," Obi-Wan said to his own lap, then dragged his eyes to hers. They focused on her fully for the first time. "I want to take Luke with me. To take him somewhere else. Somewhere safe."

"No!" Padme cried, as his words confirmed her heart's worst fears. The emotional dam inside her broke, and words poured out in a flood. "He is safe here! If you are to leave, then my children are all that is left to me. I cannot give them up. I refuse to give them up! Either of them. Bail and I can protect them. If you must go, then go. But you will not take my children. Surely you did not fight to bring us here, only to split us up now."

Obi-Wan winced slightly at her diatribe, but he did not back down. "No," he said. "But the children must be separated. Otherwise, Anakin—Vader—will sense them. He will find them. Too soon."

Padme's heart continued to disintegrate in her chest. "They will need each other. They are twins. They must be together, know each other," she said, aware that desperation showed in her voice, but not caring.

"They can't. Their bond is too strong, even now," Obi-Wan said. His voice wavered only slightly as he continued. "Perhaps some day, when the time is right. But not now."

Padme sobbed, words beyond her. A feeling of betrayal swept over her, and she jumped to her feet. Why was he proposing this, after all he'd suffered to bring her to Alderaan safely? She hated Obi-Wan in that moment, and could not listen to him any longer. She would run to her children, and hold them, denying the loathsome request, until Obi-Wan was gone.

"He's right," Bail spoke up suddenly from beside her. He laid a gentle, stilling hand on her shoulder. "I can claim Leia as my own, if anyone asks. But Luke—he looks too much like his father--"

Obi-Wan, seeming grateful for the help from an unexpected quarter, agreed. "I will take Luke where no one will recognize him, and where he will be safe. Someday, perhaps, I can train him, and he can stop--"

Padme's harsh laugh interrupted him. "Will you train him the way you trained Anakin?" she asked, ruthlessly.

Her words hit Obi-Wan as if she'd struck him with a fist, and he seemed to crumple for a moment. Padme's heart ached at the sight. She wondered if that was that what she had wanted, when she spoke such words. Had she wanted Obi-Wan to show his pain, his remorse?

Shame swept over Padme, washing away the momentary anger. She was not the only one who had suffered when Anakin had turned—when his hate had finally driven him away from them, and had driven him to unspeakable acts. But once she had spoken them, Padme couldn't take the words back. She could only apologize and hope she had not said something irreparable. "I'm sorry--" she began.

"No. Don't apologize, please." Obi-Wan's kind eyes were clouded with anguish, but he kept his pain in check. Padme was thankful for this, at this moment. Obi-Wan's emotional strength was one of the things she'd always admired in him. "None of us need to apologize anymore for speaking the truth. These are not the times for manners and deceit."

"No, I disagree," Padme said, and took a deep breath, trying to regain her civility, and weighing her words carefully. "It is in times like these that we need to treasure our friends, and to value our feelings. I am not the only one who has suffered, and you have been more of a friend to me than you can possibly imagine." Padme hoped fervently that he understood. "Please disregard what I said. And please give me time to think about your proposal. You can delay leaving until the morning, I hope?"

Obi-Wan stood and bowed, his own formal mask back in place. "Yes, of course. But surely you understand, how important this is--"

Padme thrust a hand between them, stopping him before he could continue. "I know that. But now, I need time to think, and plan."

"I understand, M'lady," said Obi-Wan. He nodded at Bail, then swiveled on a booted heel and left the small chamber.

Padme watched him go, clenching and unclenching her fingers in uneasiness. She hated the galaxy, for placing her in this situation. For making her hate Obi-Wan, even for a moment. He didn't deserve it, after all he'd done, by helping her and the children escape Coruscant. She knew that part of him had done it for Anakin—the old Anakin, the man they both loved—but she hoped that part of him also considered her his friend.

Padme turned to Bail, who had remained silent during the last part of the conversation. Lines of worry creased the skin around his dark eyes.

"I will offer shelter to all of you, without reservation," he said, quietly. "But you know that he is right."

"Thank you," was all Padme could say. Then she left as well, to run to her children.

**************

Padme crept into the small room where her children slept, closing the old-fashioned door carefully and silently behind her. A faint glowlight in the corner illuminated their tiny, innocent faces.

Padme leaned her forearms against the metal rail of the crib and watched them sleep. The residence maid who sat outside the room had said she'd fed them recently. Padme felt some guilt at not caring for her children herself, but after the turmoil of the last few weeks, she also had to admit she was glad for the help.

Luke and Leia snuggled close to each other, his fair head touching her dark one. Even at only three months of age, the twins had already formed an amazing connection. Obi-Wan had said something about it being caused by the Force, in which both of her babies were strong. But Padme preferred to think of the twins' bond as emotional rather than physical. These two had grown together in the same womb—why should they not already know each other better than those outside could understand?

For a moment Padme wished the Force would not touch her babies. Without its taint of power and duty, her children would be free to live their own lives, in ignorance of any greater destiny. But Padme knew that would never be the case. As she had found, fate sent people along a path of its own choosing.

Will they find each other again? Padme wondered.

She knew her decision had been made. She kissed her babies, lips lingering on Luke's soft cheek for a moment, then glided silently from the room.

********************

Padme tapped lightly on the wooden door of Obi-Wan's room. She pulled the think silk of her robe more closely around her, and tried to rein in her nervousness. She had many things to tell him, not the least of which was, thank you.

"Come in," she heard a tired voice call from inside.

She gripped the door handle and swung. Inside, Obi-Wan's chamber was dimly lit. The man himself lay sprawled on the bed in the center of the room, wearing only trousers and a thin undershirt. She was half afraid she'd woken him, but he pulled himself upwards with a grunt at her entrance. "Good evening, M'lady," he said, blue eyes wary.

"Oh, stop it, Obi-Wan," Padme said crossly, and traversed the space to drop onto the bed beside him. "You sound ridiculous. Call me Padme. Didn't you say yourself that the time for manners is past?"

"I suppose I did, Padme," Obi-Wan said, favoring her with a small smile.

Padme returned the grin, and watched him for a moment. He really was amazing when he smiled, she thought. Why had she never noticed how handsome he was?

She supposed that some small part of her had noticed, but it seemed that the only times she'd spent in Obi-Wan's company were times of great turmoil, when her mind had been focused elsewhere. They'd met first, of course, when she was Queen of a planet under savage attack. He'd been apprentice to Qui-Gon Jinn, at the time, and most of her regard during that conflict had been centered on that Master, and his protection and advice.

Then they'd met again, only several years ago, when he and Anakin had been sent to protect her from an assassin.

Anakin. Just the thought of him sent another fresh wave of grief crashing against her soul. During that time, the beginning of the end, the decision in the Senate to create a Republic army, Anakin had been her center of attention, her protection. It had not taken long for him to become the center of her world. Her darling husband, with his laughing green eyes that adored her, and his clever smile that could melt her heart, and had. That smile was twisted now, hidden and evil.

For a moment Padme allowed herself to wallow in despair. Did anything matter, after that? After the love of one's life had become something twisted and corrupt, and had helped to destroy the galaxy? Was it her fault, somehow?

Obi-Wan's gentle hand on her shoulder interrupted her dark thoughts. He seemed to know what they contained. "He loved you too, you know. More than anything. I think part of him still does," said Obi-Wan, quietly, into the space between them.

"I know," Padme said, allowing her sadness to show in her voice. She sighed and leaned her head against Obi-Wan's shoulder. "But even that wasn't enough to stop him."

"We've been through this before," Obi-Wan's calm voice rumbled into her hair. "There was nothing you could have done. Perhaps if I had done a better--"

"We've been through this before, as well!" Padme jerked upright and glared at him. "We can't stop blaming ourselves for what happened. But we can stop forcing our self-pity on each other, at least."

Obi-Wan gave her another pained grin. "You are right again. I should know better than to argue with you," he said.

A small laugh escaped her lips. "Anakin always used to say that," she said, then wished she hadn't. It always came back to Anakin, she thought. As much as she regretted it, Anakin was now the past. Her children were the future. She watched Obi-Wan silently for a moment, his kind, youngish face. His blue eyes were dimmed by regret, but their bright purpose never wavered.

Looking into them, Padme felt some of her own courage return. "I know you will take care of Luke," she told him.

Obi-Wan's bearded face grew serious as he accepted her decision. "Of course I will. But--" and here he paused for a moment, and shifted on the bed to face her more fully. "I cannot tell you where I am taking him, you know."

"I know," Padme said ruefully. "Because I would try to find him. And probably expose him."

"Yes," Obi-Wan sighed, appearing to be glad for her understanding.

"There's something else I need to tell you," Padme said, and screwed up her courage. She briefly wondered if this was what she had come here for, then leaned forward and kissed him, for the first time. His mouth was soft and warm against hers, and his beard was surprisingly delicate against her chin. Her hand crept up to bury itself in the lengths of his golden hair, as she pressed her lips more fully against his

Thrillingly, Obi-Wan seemed to kiss her back for a moment, then he suddenly yanked himself away. His eyes grew distant, and he shook his head at her. "You are not required to thank me in this way," he said, stiffly.

"No!" Padme said, and slid her hand down to his shoulder. She locked her eyes with his for a moment. Was that disgust or desire she read in their depths? She wanted to explain her strange behavior. She needed to explain it to herself, as well. "I'm sorry, but I didn't do that to thank you. I did it because I wanted to."

Obi-Wan's gaze on hers seemed to warm a little. "Well, it is still not necessary," he said, and stood, pulling away from her grasp. "I should get some rest. So should you. I will need to make early preparations."

Padme watched him. "I will never see you again, will I?"

Obi-Wan moved to turn away, as if he were unable to meet her eyes. "No," he said, and his voice was weighted with sad finality.

Padme reached another decision, and jumped to her feet. She grabbed his arm and twisted him to face her once more. "Then if I cannot thank you, at least I can say goodbye to an old friend," she said, and threw her weight against him, knocking him to the bed.

Obi-Wan went down with a whoomph, and Padme hastily crawled up his frame to silence him with her lips. After the barest of moments, she felt his arms encircle her, felt his hands bury themselves in her hair. The heat of his body burned her, through their clothing, as it never had before. Some small part of Padme that was still coherent realized why she was doing this. It had been too long. She wanted a man. She wanted him, Obi-Wan, the man who'd risked so much for her, and her children.

But at the moment, her children were far from her thoughts. Beneath her, Obi-Wan deepened the kiss, opening his mouth to allow her tongue inside. She complied eagerly, savoring the taste of him, the taste of Obi-Wan, and the heat of his breath.

Her own desire surprised her. Who would have thought she could feel this passion again? And she thrilled at the hitched quality of Obi-Wan's warm breath, exposing his own fervor, and knowing that it had been caused by her. It was not the unbridled and exuberant passion of Anakin, her husband, but it was passion, nonetheless.

Padme shoved the automatic thought of Anakin away. Anakin did not belong here. She would not let him come between them, this once, in this moment.

She moaned in frustration when Obi-Wan broke the embrace, his hands on the sides of her face, fingers on her cheekbones, pushing her away. Had he read her thoughts? Had her own memories betrayed her?

But the blue eyes that met hers were warm, and dark with desire. "Old friend?" he smiled at her?

Padme laughed as she remembered what she'd said. "Well, not so very old," she murmured, moving her hand to the fold of his shirt to play with the hairs on his chest.

"Oh," he said, and sighed. "I was wondering if I should be offended, or tempted."

"Oh, tempted, definitely," Padme said, in mock seriousness. What was too tempting was the gentle smile on his lips. Padme leaned in for another kiss, stalling further conversation. Her hand snaked under his shirt, to fondle the warm planes of his chest. She slid her hand down, between them, enjoying the smooth feel of his skin, and the play of muscles beneath her fingers. Her roving caress was brought up short by the waist of his pants, and the awkward angle of her arm.

Her own clothes were becoming increasingly uncomfortable against her heated skin. She reluctantly tore her lips from his, and sat up, straddling him. He watched her, eyes dark and unreadable.

Her gaze never left his as she reached up to slide off her robe. Amazed at her own daring, she slid her fingers down, across the silk of her nightgown, pulling it taut over the curves of her breasts and stomach, to grasp the bottom edge of the cloth.

She stopped as Obi-Wan closed his eyes and flopped his head back onto the bed. She wondered if she was pushing too far, too fast. Their friendship had never been forced in this direction. But her desire was borne somewhat of grief, and recklessness. At this moment, nothing mattered but him, and the last thing she would ever need from him. "Obi-Wan," she said sharply, forcing his lids open and his attention back to her. "I want this. But do you? Do you want this?"

Conflict blazed briefly in his blue eyes, then was swept away by the moment. "Yes," he said simply.

Desire heated Padme again at that mere syllable, coming from his lips, and in that hoarse voice. She smiled and lifted the hem of her gown, pulling it swiftly over her head, and tossing it over her shoulder to land on the floor, wherever, she didn't care. The cool air of the room soothed her fevered flesh, but Obi-Wan's unabashedly interested gaze soon warmed her once more.

But now she was naked, and he was not. Padme thought she could remedy that. Still seated on his thighs, she reached down to tug his shirt up, trying to pull it over his head. He obligingly raised himself to a sitting position and lifted his arms to help.

No sooner had she yanked the offending material away, than Obi-Wan wrapped his muscled arms around her, and brought her back down to him.

His kisses this time were rougher, more urgent, more driven by lust. Padme gave into them eagerly. One of his hands buried itself in her long hair, yanking out the pins and the elaborate hairstyle that one of Bail's maids had so meticulously prepared for her earlier. Padme didn't care. His other hand roamed the skin of her back, exploring the shape of her curves, of her body. Ever sweep of his callused fingers sent shivers throughout her already fevered frame.

But soon his touches gentled, and he rolled her, his body covering hers. He dragged his lips away from her mouth, to slide heated kisses down the column of her neck. His free hand moved down, inexorably, to cover the curve of one breast. The feel of that palm against her nipple, already swollen and sensitive from her recent childbirth, deepened the ache throughout her, almost unbearably. When the moist heat of his mouth traveled down to replace his hand, Padme thought she might die of pleasure. She arched her back against him, to allow him access to all she had to offer.

Some small part of her, that wasn't buried in sensation, realized that Obi-Wan was still half-dressed. In between gasps and moans of pleasure, she managed to work her hands down his back, only catching him with her nails now and then as his tongue found a particularly sensitive spot. With an almost primal grunt of lust, she yanked down the waistband of his trousers, until she could catch it with her bare foot and kick them off. Her hand found his erect manhood, and she grasped it, savoring the hot, velvety-smooth hardness of it in her palm.

"Uhn!" Obi-Wan gasped into her neck as she gripped him even tighter, loving the sound of his breath, labored at her touch. It was too wonderful. Padme wanted it all, now. She threw her legs around the muscles of his slim hips, urging him to fill her, to satisfy the ache that radiated throughout her body, centered in the pit of her belly. If the throbbing flesh in her hand was any indication, Obi-Wan was in need of the same thing.

He obviously was. He raised himself over her, and her hand guided him as he shoved inside, filling her near to bursting. He did not wait, but began to move, thrusting slowly at first and then faster, satisfying a primitive need that would not be denied, once called into play.

"Oh!" Padme couldn't stop the cry that bypassed her brain and went straight from her throat to her lips. Lust, and the feel of his sweat-slicked skin sliding against hers, drove her nearly into a frenzy as she moved with him, arching against him.

Soon, too soon, not soon enough, a wave of gravity pulled at her, pulling her down into the mattress beneath Obi-Wan. Her every muscle tensed, unable to move, and suddenly, with a sharp cry, she was released from the sweet torture. Wave after wave of her climax tore through her, clenching her thighs against his hips, and her inner warmth against the hardness that filled her.

Obi-Wan cried out, muffled against her hair, as he, too, reached the pinnacle of his release. A few more slick thrusts, and he collapsed atop her.

Padme felt his warm, sweaty weight atop her, and savored it, running her hands over the slickness of his back. A buried, rational part of her brain marveled at his passion, that had lain hidden for so long under his calm, cool exterior. She felt lucky to have discovered it.

They lay there, breathing heavily, for a few moments. Obi-Wan was the first to speak.

"Should we have done that?" he asked against Padme's neck, a small, tired laugh in his voice.

"Probably not," said Padme. The treacherous thought sneaked into her brain that she should have taken other Jedi lovers in the past. The two she'd had were sublime. She found to her surprise that she could think about Anakin, now. He couldn't touch her, with his love or his evil, in the place of warmth she now occupied.

But the thought of Anakin, harmless in itself, brought back other unpleasant business. Obi-Wan's leaving, for one thing. And Luke. Soon he would depart from her as well, with Obi-Wan, to face unknown dangers.

Obi-Wan seemed to feel the tenseness as it returned to her muscles. He rolled to his side and sat, hauling her up to sit beside him. "Will you be all right?" he wanted to know.

"Yes," In her mire of worry and imminent loss, Padme found a moment to admire the sight of Obi-Wan, naked, sitting cross-legged on the bed beside her. Who would ever have thought, she wondered. She dragged her mind back to the present. Even in this position, she could be businesslike with Obi-Wan. It had ever been the nature of their friendship—periods of deep emotion, and danger-- followed by jobs that had to be done. "Of course. Bail is a good man."

"He is, indeed," Obi-Wan agreed. His achingly blue eyes searched hers for a moment. "Do you think you could love him?" he asked, bluntly.

Padme thought about it for a moment. She knew the answer. Right now, she had room for infinite loves in her heart. She would never again take those who cared for her and helped her for granted, because she could never know when she might have to lose them. "Yes," she said simply.

Obi-Wan rested his chin on his crossed knees, and sighed, as if relieved. "Good." He turned to eye his clothing and Jedi accoutrements, on the floor. "I hope he will be able to find me some inconspicuous clothing, as well. You will have to destroy those. I can't be a Jedi any longer."

Padme's heart clenched at his tone. He would have to give up at least as much as she. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it," she told him. And it was the truth. She didn't know yet if she would destroy them. But no one would ever find them. She sighed and stood, pulling her own robe and nightgown off the floor, and tossing them haphazardly back onto her body. She had another goodbye to prepare for.

Obi-Wan, watching her, seemed to know her thoughts yet again. He reached out a hand to brush hers as she turned to look at him. "That was some goodbye. I think we shall have to say goodbye again, some time," he joked, as if trying to lighten her mood.

Padme offered him a small smile in return. "You never know," she said, and moved to the door. She hesitated for a moment, and took a deep breath. She didn't want to say it. But it was too late to turn back now. "I will see you in the morning, and I will… I will have Luke with me."

"In the morning, then," Obi-Wan said, expression unreadable.

"Goodbye, Obi-Wan," Padme said on a sob, and exited the room, slamming the door behind her.

END.

Please Review!