Author: SomeJediGirl (SomeJediGirl@aol.com)

Rating: NC-17 (Obi/Ani SLASH!!)

Spoilers: None

Archive: Sith Chicks, Library Archives, anyone else who wants it, just let me know

Disclaimer: Meesa no own these characters. Theysa owned by the Mighty Lucas. I makes no money from this.

Author Notes: A sequel to the awesome "Lessons Learned," by Angel Force. (available at: http://www.freewebs.com/obiani/lesson1.htm ) You should probably read that first before this, just to find out how we got to this place of sexual tension. But, this can stand alone as well, all you need to know is that in the first fic, it was a threesome with Obi/Ani/Padme. This fic however is totally Obi/Ani!!

Warning! Obi-Wan/Anakin Slash. If you don't like slash, then don't read it.

~~~~~~~~~

Well, would you want me in your afternoons

If I seduced you

In your mills and boon

Well, I’ll be the master

If you’ll be the maid

Now don’t you get those headaches

In another life.

-"In Another Life" by XTC

~~~~~~~~~

"I am hopeful that the negotiations will not take long, darling. I should be back on Coruscant within a few days," Padme told her husband as she walked over to the mirror to straighten her clothing and check her hair one final time. "What will you do while I am gone? Do you anticipate a mission of your own?" she asked.

Anakin, watching her from his seat on the bed, shook his head. "No, things in the Temple are quiet. I’ll probably just do a little training, maybe some reading up for the trials."

Padme grinned at her reflection. "You promise? No other women?" she teased.

"No, my love," Anakin said, then stood and looked thoughtful. "Of course, I’ll be spending a lot of time in the archives. You never know what might happen with Jocasta Nu."

"I always thought I should keep my eye on her," Padme chuckled. She turned to her husband, and suddenly her statement grew immeasurably sad. She ran to throw her arms around him, not seeming to care whether the action mussed her carefully arranged coif. "I hate to say goodbye, my dearest," she said, eyes filling with tears.

"I will be in agony every moment you are gone," Anakin whispered in her hair. "Are you sure you don’t need me along? For protection?"

Padme wiped tears from her eyes, and almost seemed to consider it for a moment. "I would love to say yes, but no. I have Dorme and Eirtae. And Artoo, of course," she joked.

"Then I know you will be safe," Anakin said with a sad grin. "Hurry back, my love."

One final, lingering goodbye kiss later, Padme walked out the door, sniffling.

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

No sooner had the door shut behind her than Padme’s tears dried like magic. She and her two handmaidens shared a look and a giggle, then ran down the hall to put their plan into action.

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

No sooner had the door shut, than Anakin rubbed his hands in glee. Finally, she was gone. He dressed, and went to find Obi-Wan.

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

Anakin went straight to the quarters he used to share with his master. He sensed his mentor inside, and opened the door without knocking. He was stopped breathless on the threshold by the sight that met his eyes.

Obi-Wan had clearly just finished showering. He stood in the center of the room, wearing only a pair of damp pants, toweling off his shoulder-length, honey-colored hair. His shirtless, muscled chest gleamed with moisture. Anakin nearly melted.

Obi-Wan looked up, startled, at the noise and the sense of another presence. He seemed struck speechless for a moment at the look of naked lust in his padawan’s eyes. "Hello, Anakin. What are you doing here?" he managed to choke out.

"Oh, Master," Anakin breathed. "I came to see you. I needed to see you. Alone. Finally." Anakin moved forward swiftly and grabbed his master’s shoulders. He buried his face in Obi-Wan’s neck, inhaling the clean scent of his hair, his water-slicked skin. He felt his master tense at the sensation.

Obi-Wan’s hands instinctively moved to Anakin’s waist to return the caress, then suddenly dropped away. "Anakin! What are you doing?"

"What does it feel like I’m doing, Master?" Anakin mumbled as he licked a rivulet of water that trickled its way down Obi-Wan’s warm neck. He felt a shudder tear through his master at the contact. "I’m resuming our lessons."

"There is a time and a place for such lessons, my young padawan," Obi-Wan stammered with a gasp. "Tell me, where is Padme?"

Anakin pulled back for a moment, nose to nose with his master. Green eyes met blue in an unblinking gaze. "She’s gone. On a diplomatic errand," he whispered. "Now I have you all to myself, my teacher."

Obi-Wan’s eyes darkened for a moment, then he looked away. "She’s not aware of your being here, is she?" he asked quietly.

"Does it matter?" Anakin asked the corner of Obi-Wan’s tempting mouth. The nearness of his master, his hot breath blowing against Anakin’s face in gasps, and the knowledge that they were alone, finally alone, nearly served to drive him mad. "She’ll be back in a few days."

"No," Obi-Wan said and jerked away, breathing somewhat unsteadily. He could not meet Anakin’s eyes. "This is not right. You know how I care for you, Anakin, but you are in love with her. You are married to her. These lessons should not be undertaken without her consent."

Anakin sighed and dropped his hands to his sides. A twinge ran through him at the thought of his wife. Obi-Wan was right. The passion they’d all three experienced together was priceless, and it would not be the same without his beloved Padme there to share it. Anakin tore his gaze from his master’s appetizing physique, and looked down at his own boots. "I understand, Master. I just want… I just need…" Desire warred with guilt, and he couldn’t continue.

"There are other ways of working off this tension, my young apprentice," said Obi-Wan, now breathing a little more normally without his padawan’s full lips distracting him. "How about a lesson in channeling this energy into a lightsaber duel? I could use the practice."

"Very well, master, I suppose you could," said Anakin, stealing one last regretful look at the way Obi-Wan’s damp hair curled upon his muscled shoulders. He palmed his lightsaber and walked through the doorway that separated Obi-Wan’s sleeping quarters with their own private training room.

Obi-Wan sighed with what might have been relief or disappointment, and followed.

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

"I knew it!" Padme yelled at the flat, silent vidscreen before her. She’d paid a lot of money to have hidden cameras installed in Obi-Wan’s quarters, and even more for this little setup in a secret basement room of the Senate chambers. "I knew it! That little…. Ooh, I just knew that the second I left, he would think he could have Obi-Wan all to himself!"

Beside her, Eirtae and Dorme shook their heads in commiseration. "I’m sorry, milady," Dorme sighed. "I was so sure your husband loved you above all others."

"Well, of course he does," Padme said and looked at her friend in surprise. "I have no doubt of that. And I’m not really angry. Mostly amused. I guess I just needed it proved to me."

"But, milady!" Eirtae said. "What do you intend to do?"

Padme grinned evilly. "Blackmail, of course. They will both of them owe me big after this one. I can hardly wait." She closed her eyes and hugged herself in glee. "Just imagine what they’ll do to make up for it, once I show them this tape of--"

"Of fighting, milady?" Dorme interrupted. "They’re only having lightsaber practice after all!"

"Fighting? That’s it?" Padme exclaimed and turned to watch the other silent vidscreen in disbelief. She almost seemed disappointed. "But it looked like…they…oh, darn!"

"Well, milady, at least we have something pleasant to watch," said Dorme with a grin and a wave at Obi-Wan’s naked chest. Beside her, Eirtae simply sighed and smiled a dreamy smile.

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

"Ungh!" The exclamation tore itself from Obi-Wan’s throat at Anakin’s determined onslaught.

"What’s wrong, Master? Getting too old to deal with a young body like mine?" Anakin taunted between grunts as he brutally swiped his green lightsaber up along the length of Obi-Wan’s blade, casting sparks at the sliding contact and forcing his master back a step.

"Not….likely!" Obi-Wan grunted in return as he quickstepped to the left and brought his blue blade around to slash at Anakin’s exposed side.

The young man easily blocked the blow but had to twist awkwardly to avoid the next, nearly lightning-fast swing that Obi-Wan brought at him from below. Anakin was stronger, both physically and in the Force, but Obi-Wan’s smaller frame had agility and experience to aid it. Anakin couldn’t also help but notice that his master’s frame was delightfully flushed and gleaming with sweat from the exercise. His momentary lustful distraction was nearly his undoing, as Obi-Wan finished with a cross-downslash that burned through Anakin’s defenses and sliced down through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Anakin yelped and jumped back, out of the reach of further corporeal or sartorial damage. "Oh, no," he moaned, breathing hard, as he powered down his saber. "Padme’s going to kill me. She’s going to kill you. She just bought this for me last week."

"Well, you shouldn’t have worn it to duel in, my young Padawan," Obi-Wan pointed out reasonably.

"I only wore it because I knew it looked good," grinned Anakin from his safe distance as he shook his arms out of what remained of his shirt. He re-ignited his emerald blade as the filmy material pooled at his feet. "Ready to try that again, Master?"

Obi-Wan merely ignited his own saber in return.

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

"Aaaah! I’m going to kill him! I’m going to kill both of them!" swore Padme when the charred tear appeared in Anakin’s shirt. "Does he know how much that cost?"

"It’s a shame, milady," agreed Eirtae. "And you had it especially made on Lorient 3."

"I know. And it looked really well on him, too," Padme sulked. But watching the soundless vid, she remembered just how good her husband’s young, sculpted, sweaty torso looked without any clothing. She brightened up considerably. "Oh, well."

"Oh, well is right, milady," breathed Dorme at the sight of the two handsome, half-naked men leaping about energetically on the screen.

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

Anakin could tell that his master was tiring. Obi-Wan’s breathing came in short, labored gasps, and his movements, even Force-aided, were slower than before. The apprentice had eased his attacks for the last few minutes, hoping for exactly this, to wear his master down. When he saw Obi-Wan stumble over what should have been a routine block, he pressed his advantage. Gathering his strength and the Force, he unleashed a barrage of blows, left and right, up and down, that practically forced his master backwards onto his rear.

"Whoa!" Obi-Wan gasped in surprise as Anakin’s green blade nearly singed some hair that had fallen into his eyes. He was forced to release one hand from his saber to catch himself on the wall behind him. "Are you trying to kill me, my Padawan?"

"No, Master," Anakin huffed as he swung his saber in a wide arc that would have cleaved Obi-Wan in two if he’d really been trying. "I’m merely channeling my tension into this exercise, like you suggested."

When Anakin’s blade hissed past him, Obi-Wan pushed himself off from the wall and jumped, up and over Anakin’s head, landing behind his apprentice with a grunt. "You…could…have…fooled—Oh!"

Anakin, anticipating the move, was already facing his master. Before Obi-Wan could get another two-handed defensive grip on his lightsaber, Anakin flicked his wrist beneath Obi-Wan’s grasp, sending his master’s silver handle flying across the room to clatter on the floor. He tossed his own to join it. "I win," he breathed heavily.

And threw himself at Obi-Wan.

He grabbed his master’s wrists and knocked him to the floor, pinning him down, feeling the other man’s breath forced out in a whoosh at the sudden weight. "Oh, Master," he sighed, and fastened his lips on Obi-Wan’s.

Obi-Wan, drained, was powerless to fight. All was going according to Anakin’s plan. The young man felt his master’s lips ease open beneath his own, his heated breaths filling Anakin with passion. He released one of Obi-Wan’s hands to bring his own up to his master’s face as he kissed him hungrily, to caress it, running over rough beard and slippery cheekbones to smooth back the sweat-dampened strands of hair.

After a few moments of this determined passion, Obi-Wan’s form beneath him relaxed as he returned his padawan’s embrace. Anakin’s thrill of the fight transferred to thrilling at the sensation of his master’s heated mouth and warm, solid body. He tightened his grip on the hand he clutched above his master’s head, and stretched out, burrowing into the frame beneath him, legs curling to trap Obi-Wan further.

The more than pleasant experience was interrupted when Obi-Wan’s freed hand jerked up to capture Anakin's chin. The hand snapped his head back, surprising Anakin enough for Obi-Wan to pull back.

His master’s eyes were glazed with exhaustion and something else, something Anakin wanted to explore further. Before he had a chance, Obi-Wan managed to speak.

"Anakin," he breathed, using what strength he retained to hold his padawan’s determined lips away for a moment. "You learn too quickly, my young apprentice. You don’t need any more lessons…"

"Just consider it practice, Master," Anakin said. A clever and irresistible grin sneaked onto his face. He removed Obi-Wan’s strengthless hand from his chin, entwined their fingers, and leaned forward. It was not to renew his attack on his master’s mouth, but to embark on a reconnaissance mission to his master’s earlobe. He nibbled it for a moment, breathed, slyly, "You want to make sure I can keep my wife happy, don’t you?"

A shiver ran through Obi-Wan’s body at the onslaught to this sensitive spot. "Your wife seems perfectly happy to me," he gasped out.

"Well, then, it’s your turn," Anakin riposted, and stuck his tongue into Obi-Wan’s ear.

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

"Oooh! I wish I knew what they were saying!" shrieked Padme as she watched the passionate drama unfold on the screen. She turned an accusing look on her handmaidens. "Which one of you was it that convinced me I didn’t need sound on this thing?"

"Neither, my lady," replied Eirtae, sneaking a peek around her mistress at the vid. "You decided that yourself, remember?"

"Yes," agreed Dorme, who didn’t even pretend to be sneaky, but shoved her mistress out of the way of the screen. "And now it seems you might have ammunition for blackmail. But how are you going to explain the fact that you had cameras installed in Master Obi-Wan’s quarters?"

"Well, I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe I won’t have to," mused Padme, looking thoughtful as she turned back to watch her husband plaster himself all over his handsome master. "You girls will help me, of course." It wasn’t a question.

"Always, my lady," sighed Eirtae. "Now, will you please get out of my way?"

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

"Oh, Ani," moaned Obi-Wan as his apprentice’s tongue sent chills through his body. "You know I can’t resist this."

"Then don’t," replied Anakin ruthlessly as he pushed himself up to stare down into his master’s blue eyes. "Just be prepared for a long practice. And call me Ani again."

"Ani," said Obi-Wan, and closed his eyes as all fight went out of him.

Anakin had to struggle not to finish everything then and there. But the few moments away from has master’s mouth had given Anakin renewed endurance. He was prepared to make this a very long practice.

How long had he waited to have his master all to himself? It seemed forever. Anakin loved his wife, and was more than thrilled with their improved lovemaking. But that one night with Obi-Wan and Padme had hardly served to quench his desire for his master. After all, he’d only renewed his acquaintance with Padme mere months ago, and he’d spent every day of the last eleven years with Obi-Wan.

Eleven long years, nearly every moment a new torture, watching his handsome, powerful master in awe. Wondering at the calm, compact exterior, and dying to know what lay beneath it. On that first night with Padme, he’d found out, and was burned by it. Now, every day and many nights since, he’d watched his master move about the Temple on one duty or another, forced to speculate on how Obi-Wan’s amazing, hidden talent for pleasure was being put to use. And he became more and more determined to put it to use himself.

Here was his chance. But he still didn’t completely trust his master’s current submission. Abandoning for the moment his opportunity to kiss Obi-Wan’s mouth again, he caught both of the other Jedi’s hands in one of his own. He slid the other down Obi-Wan’s chest, over and through the soft hairs on his slick belly, down to the damp waistband of his master’s trousers. He let his hand linger there for a moment, enjoying the sound of Obi-Wan’s labored breathing.

He shifted his weight to his abdomen, pressing Obi-Wan’s hips down as he used his heels to capture his master’s boots. He kicked them off without even the slightest application of the Force. "You need new boots, Master," he whispered into Obi-Wan’s ear as his fingertips teased the cloth at his waist. "Those are too loose."

"Unhh," was all Obi-Wan could manage.

"And these trousers," Anakin continued, as he rolled onto his side, bringing his master with him, the older Jedi’s hands still captured in his own larger one above their heads. He slipped his free hand into to the top of said trousers, ever so slightly, and ran his palm over Obi-Wan’s hip. "There’s too much of them."

His thumb explored the soft skin in the valley between Obi-Wan’s hipbone and inner thigh. He marveled at the way his master’s muscles jumped imperceptibly and involuntarily at the caress. He was so different from Padme, he mused. Despite the intelligent power she wielded with such authority and skill, she was more than feminine. She was all softness, and translucent and perfumed skin.

No one could mistake the body beneath him as feminine. But Anakin found it no less exciting.

He reached around to grasp the offending cloth and pulled it down, watching happily as more and more masculine skin was revealed to his interested gaze. Inch after inch of Obi-Wan’s golden, lightly haired form appeared, from his impressive genitals, to equally impressive muscled thighs and knees, to—

Anakin glanced up, realizing he was being watched. Obi-Wan’s eyes had opened, and had been looking on as his padawan was busy observing his own actions. At the sight of the desire in those darkened blue pools, Anakin’s control blasted away into oblivion. He rolled violently back on top of his master, using his booted feet to kick off Obi-Wan’s trousers as he had the boots earlier. He recaptured Obi-Wan’s hand in both his own again, entwining his strong, slender fingers in those of his master’s, and went in for the kill.

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

"Wow. How very interesting," whispered Dorme. "Do all Jedi behave this way?"

"Huh?" Padme and Eirtae asked in unison. They didn’t even turn to look at her.

Dorme wasn’t that concerned with an answer anyway.

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

Anakin renewed his assault upon Obi-Wan’s mouth, biting his lips, ravishing them, tasting the warmth within. Obi-Wan, lost in desire and pinned to boot, returned the kiss with equal passion.

Anakin was lost as well. It was everything to him at that moment, the feel of his master’s mouth around his tongue, the rise and fall of the bare chest beneath his own, Obi-Wan’s firm flesh and even harder erection pressing into his thigh. The only thing missing was his master’s lovely voice, hoarse with desire, saying something. Anything. Saying his name. Anakin thought he knew how to bring that on.

He tore his lips away to work them down his master’s throat, heading inexorably for his goal far below. His lips were stopped short for a moment as he felt Obi-Wan’s racing pulse beneath his tongue. He savored the sensation, sucking at the spot where rough beard met smooth skin.

Beneath him, Obi-Wan gasped and struggled briefly, trying to free his hands. Whether he wanted to stop Anakin or grab him and pull him closer, Anakin didn’t care. He wasn’t letting go again.

"Unh unh," he murmured as a negative into Obi-Wan’s salty skin as he got his lips moving once more. This time he got as far as his master’s delectable shoulder blade, which he dutifully bit. "Don’t even try it, Obi-Wan," he whispered. He liked the way the name rolled out of his throat so naturally. "Obi-Wan," he repeated.

"Ani."

"Oh, Master," Anakin reverted unconsciously to the more natural appellative as he got his mouth going downwards again, this time to be distracted by his master’s chest. He licked at the sweat pooling on Obi-Wan’s breastbone, and over to stroke one dark nipple.

Obi-Wan moaned again. Anakin, pleased with his own progress, felt a jolt of electric gravity sweep through him. He was determined to see how much passion he could wring out of the shuddering body beneath him. And he was enjoying himself immensely. But his control was slipping. His own erection was throbbing painfully, begging for something, anything, from his master preferably, to ease it. He wasn’t going to last long at this rate.

Obi-Wan, perhaps sensing this, tried once again to yank away his hands, which were now pulled down to shoulder height. "Please, Anakin," he whispered. "I can’t do anything if you won’t let me go…"

"No, Master," Anakin murmured into Obi-Wan’s navel. He was delighted with how strangely and ridiculously soft Obi-Wan’s belly was, when juxtaposed against the muscularity of the rest of him. He was finding it hard to keep hold of his master’s hands, especially in this position, and knowing what those hands could do in return, were they but free. But he was determined not to let go. "Besides, it’s not my turn," he said, and clamped Obi-Wan’s palms to the sides of his own hips.

In this position, Anakin found, Obi-Wan’s gorgeously hard member was right within reach. He eyed it happily and leaned forward to plant a small, gentle kiss on its end, eliciting a short, hoarse cry from his master. Anakin opened his lips for a little bit more, and savored the taste, the hot, dry and velvety-smooth feel of it, remembering it.

Obi-Wan, his hands fastened at his sides and legs pinned beneath Anakin’s torso, couldn’t move, but could only gasp with near-pain as his apprentice teased him so. He tried to say "Anakin," but the only sound that emerged was "Angh."

"Trying so say something, Master?" Anakin whispered, sending little, cooling, maddening puffs of breath onto the skin he’d so recently moistened with his lips. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Angh."

"That’s what I thought," Anakin said, and ran his soft lips along the length of his master’s member before engulfing the end half in his mouth once more. His heart swelled as he swirled his tongue around the firm, warm flesh. Right now, this was his, and he was doing a damn fine job of driving Obi-Wan Kenobi crazy. He ignored the swollen pain in his own nether regions to concentrate on the pleasure of his master.

He inhaled deeply around the hardness in his mouth, deliberately intensifying the contact. Beneath him, Obi-Wan’s hips rose unconsciously, as if being pulled by his apprentice’s breath, despite the dual pairs of hands holding him down. Anakin liked the looks of that. He did it again, several more times, reveling in the control he could exert over his master’s trembling body.

Just when he sensed his master was about to tumble screaming over the edge, Anakin pulled off slowly, tormentingly. Almost light-headed, he placed a lingering, loving kiss on the tip, and looked up to see his master’s reaction.

He found Obi-Wan watching him, with eyes blazing with suffering and with passion. He looked as if he might weep. His eyes also promised a payback. If his master could speak, Anakin knew he would deliver a blistering lecture.

"Angh."

"Yes, I know. I’m terrible, aren’t I?" Anakin whispered with husky emotion, but without much concern, against his master’s sadly neglected erection. Obi-Wan’s ire could be dealt with later. Right now, he had his master in his complete dominion, and he was determined to enjoy it. He drew his eyes away from the flaming blue ones above him, to admire the way his master’s sweaty, shining abdomen rose and fell rapidly with each jerking breath he took.

He sighed happily. It was time to end the torture. Anakin clasped the hands beneath his even more firmly, digging his fingertips into the muscled flesh of his master’s thighs, and took the swollen member into his mouth once more. Completely. Every delectable inch of it. His lips tightened at the base, and he moaned, adding vibration to the already intense pressure he exerted on his master’s hardness. Obi-Wan was so close…

"Anakin!" came his master’s lovely, hoarse cry as he finally reached the zenith of his passion. Anakin didn’t let go, but held on tightly with mouth and hands, savoring every moment.

After what seemed like an eternity, Obi-Wan’s spasms subsided, and he just lay there, exhausted, chest heaving. Anakin, gasping for breath as well, released his master’s hands and pulled himself forward far enough to collapse his head onto Obi-Wan’s stomach. They lay there like that for a few long moments.

Then Obi-Wan reached down to grab Anakin’s neck in a choke hold and pull his eyes up to face him. "I’m going to get you for that," he growled.

Anakin knew exactly what his master meant by that remark. He thought he might enjoy it, too.

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

"Ohhhh," three female voices sighed in unison.

There were a few moments of silence.

Then Padme spoke up.

"All right, ladies, we’re going down there. I need to have a talk with my husband right now," she said firmly, thought she didn’t rise.

"I don’t think I can go anywhere right now, my lady," whispered Dorme. "I don’t think my legs would move. Besides, they can’t know we’re watching."

"She’s right, my lady," seconded Eirtae. "If you tell them you know what they were doing. Um and doing so well. Ah. Well, anyway, you will have to explain how you knew. What they were doing."

Padme’s eyes sparked with humor at her handmaidens’ distraction. "You’re right. Somebody go get me a comlink. I have an idea."

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

Anakin gasped in surprise at Obi-Wan’s sudden energy as his master sat up, grabbed Anakin’s shoulders and pulled him on top for a fierce kiss. But he didn’t act surprised for long. He accepted the assault wholeheartedly, wrapping his arms around his master’s sweaty back. He pressed his own swollen erection into his master’s thigh, aching for the contact, any contact that would ease his agony. It was Obi-Wan who broke the kiss first.

"Now, my young apprentice, you are going to get what you deserve," Obi-Wan said and violently threw Anakin off of him, rolling to his side and face to face with his padawan. As Anakin’s head smacked into the hard floor, Obi-Wan reached up behind to wrap one hand in his apprentice’s braid, and slid the other hand down into the waistband of Anakin’s trousers.

Anakin howled as his master gripped his swollen member. He also lost control. Obi-Wan had barely held him for two seconds before Anakin exploded, sending a hot warmth onto Obi-Wan’s hand. "Oh, Master," he cried as he peaked.

Obi-Wan released his apprentice’s braid and lay staring at him stunned.

Anakin opened his eyes and looked across at his master, nearly laughing at Obi-Wan’s bemusement. "Sorry about that, Master," he apologized, breathless.

Obi-Wan recovered from his surprise after a moment and chuckled. "Denying me my revenge, are you, you my young apprentice?"

"I didn’t mean to do it. I never even got to take my boots off," complained Anakin as he lolled, spent, on the floor.

Obi-Wan laid his hand on his apprentice’s flat stomach and eyed Anakin’s boots speculatively. "Well, I suppose I could do something about that. Who’s to say that we have to stop--"

He was interrupted by an insistent beep from the wall communications panel. It was a priority beep. An important beep. He shared a brief look of alarm with his apprentice before jumping up to answer it. Anakin couldn’t help but appreciate the amusing picture Obi-Wan made, running naked across the room to answer a call. Even an urgent one.

His master slapped the answer button on the panel. "Yes?"

"Oh, Obi-Wan!" came Padme’s panicked voice. "I’ve been looking all over for my husband. My ship was sabotaged, and I just got back, and I haven’t been able to find him, and he hasn’t answered my calls…." A short sob came through the speaker. "Have you seen him?"

"Yes, yes, Padme! Calm down. He’s here." Obi-Wan motioned for Anakin to join him. "Sabotaged, you say?"

"Yes! Thankfully my handmaidens and I escaped with our lives. Ani? Are you there?"

"Yes, darling! I’m here. You’re safe?" Anakin went from feeling great to feeling horrible. Here he’d been, enjoying himself too much with his master, while his wife’s life was in danger. He had to find her, he had to destroy those that had tried to hurt her…but first he had to get dressed. He was glad that Obi-Wan’s training room comm had no vid pickup. "I’ll be right there! Where are you?"

"No, my love, that’s all right. We’ll come to join you. I’ll feel so much safer with you and Obi-Wan to be my Jedi protectors." Anakin could swear he heard a giggle from somewhere on the com connection. "You are in Obi-Wan’s quarters, correct? Not the library?"

"Uh, no, darling. We were just having lightsaber practice. Hurry, please! I can’t wait to see you."

"I’m coming as fast as I can, my love," Padme’s voice sobbed, and the link was cut.

Anakin stared as the connection light went from green to red. He turned to look at his master. "Do you think she’ll know? What will she do?"

"I think that’s your problem, my young apprentice," Obi-Wan drawled as he swiveled to head back into his quarters. "I’m going to take another shower. Tell Padme I said hello."

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

Padme hugged herself in glee again as the three women headed for the Jedi Temple. "Of course we’ll find out that I was overreacting. That my ship was not sabotaged at all."

"Of course, my lady," Eirtae agreed. She pulled out a compact to powder her nose.

Padme held up a small datachip, and continued her gloating. "But wait, there’s more. I think we can find a market for this. And when I just happen to acquire a copy…."

"That’s a wonderful plan, my lady!" gushed Dorme, and smirked at her mistress. "He will indeed be in your debt. Having such fun while you were under attack…"

"Can I have a copy first, my lady?" enquired Eirtae demurely.

~~~~~~It’s how we’re built, love

Don’t let it wilt, love

I’ll take your mood swings

Well, if you’ll take my hobbies

It all works out in the end.

Ah, but in another life

~~~~~~~

The End