Come Undone

This is an E-3 speculative fic being readdressed from over 18 months ago. The usual disclaimers, Anakin, Padme et all belong to george.

Usual disclaimers.. Discalimer: not mine, not pretending to be mine-no money changes hands, this is just for fun.
Georges sandbox, but my Oc's..

Rated for some chapters because I don't believe that Anakin and Padme DON'T make love.


“Come Undone”


Padmé tried to get comfortable in her chair with only limited success. Another day, another committee, and another round of busy work that would keep her involved in the affairs of the Senate for the time being. Although no one had commented directly, Padmé was painfully aware of the fact that her claims of merely being tired from over work were being greeted with increasing suspicion. Thankfully, the Chancellor had granted her a larger leeway than most, allowing her to do most of her work from a terminal in her apartment. Usually, Jar-Jar could fill in as the recognized Nubian representative, but unfortunately, there were times where she absolutely had to make an appearance, and this was one of them.


Senator Ronet Coorr of the Iseno system was droning on about one treaty or another, and Padmé’s mind began to wander. Thoughts of Anakin began drifting into her head and she sighed inwardly. The last time they had been together had been a mixed affair, the short time they had shared in their little ‘smuggler’s flat’ had been theirs alone and yet Anakin had seemed, distant… preoccupied much of the time. When Obi-Wan had been sent off suddenly on a negotiation assignment, he had specifically requested that Anakin join him as soon as his furlough was over. Anakin had been reluctant at first, but despite her own misgivings, Padmé had been encouraging, reminding him that this might very well be the best chance for him to reestablish his bond with the Jedi Master and to try to recover what seemed to be drifting away before it was too late. Anakin had conceded the point with almost unseemly haste, and she had felt a pang of sadness. She knew that it was in retrospect, simply a way for him to avoid the real issue they now faced.


She was pregnant.


They had argued passionately and painfully over what they would do next. Should she still serve in the Senate? After all, the Naboo had no issues with their represeivesives having families and within the last three years, Jar-Jar had proven himself a valuable and capable politician. If she worked through the entire session, then she would retire peacefully and without an argument when the child was born. The question of paternity might become an issue eventually but…


Then there was the matter of the Jedi themselves, was it time at last to reveal the truth? What would that mean for Anakin? So many questions...


"Senator Amidala," Ister Paddie, the Senator from Sermeria called to her, interrupting her personal reverie. "Is this debate so unimportant to you that you feel that you need not contribute?"


"We have been here for several hours," interjected Bail Organa of Alderann, and Padmé' threw him a grateful look. "Perhaps a recess is in order? Senator Amidala, perhaps you should excuse yourself and get some rest, you do look unwell."


"I'll be fine Senator Organa," Padmé' gave him a wan smile. "Perhaps you're right, a recess would allow me to refresh myself a little. Then we can finish this business and go home for the day."


A motion to recess was made and seconded and the small room began to clear itself out. Padmé waited until the room was nearly empty before she attempted to rise herself, and sat down again as the room began to swim. Bail had lingered for a moment, concerned, and as she started to sit again he rushed to her side and helped her to a chair.


"Senator…" Bail shook his head. "You really should go back to your apartment and rest." His voice grew stern, almost fatherly. "I tell you this not only as your colleague, but as your friend as well Padmé, I’m sure that the Republic will not fall in your absence."
"It's this stale, recycled air," Padmé began feebly, but Bail interrupted.


"You don't need to tell me if you don't want to, my friend. We'll get you back to your quarters and if you wish to talk to me later..." He offered her a smile and took her hand gently. "You know how to get a hold of me."


Padmé returned his smile, a little more brightly. "Thank you Senator," she blushed. "I mean, Bail. Your assistance will be most welcome.” Bail offered her his arm and she took it, surprised at how shaky she felt today.


They started down the hallway towards the speeder platform, Padmé relieved to be on her way back to her quarters. When they reached the entrance to the platform, she and Bail parted ways. Although she had appreciated his concern, Padmé was relieved to have a few moments alone with her thoughts and the atrium looked inviting. Almost the entire planet of Couruscant had been industrialized, but the designers of the Senate building had thankfully provided greenhouse rooms through out. She entered the room, sat on the bench and closed her eyes and then leaned back a little, relishing the sent and the cool feeling of fresh, un-recycled air.


"Oh Ani," she thought. "How I miss you darling one." Soon enough they would be together, but now that she was alone again, her mind drifted back to thoughts of Anakin. Padmé flushed and tried to push the more, well frankly, ~erotic,~ visions aside with little success, even though she had no idea exactly when she and Anakin would be able to… indulge in them, so to speak. Knowing Obi-Wan Kenobi, he would be keeping Ani on an incredibly short leash but they would be together soon enough. It was just a matter of…


Suddenly, Padmé was startled out of her revery by the new, unexpected sensation in her abdomen. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced in her life, and certainly not as Sola had tried to describe… There it was again! There was no denying what it was… Obi-Wan and his Jedi ways be hanged, this was too far important to keep from Anakin! She knew that it would take only the one word to bring him running to her side. It would sound meaningless to anyone else who heard, but would convey everything to the one man to whom it would matter.

One word.

~Movement... ~