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“Wait why can’t I be the fiancé?” Anakin interrupted.
Padmé and Obi-Wan exchanged glances. Padmé looked conflicted, while Obi-Wan was amused for a fraction of a second before going condescending.
“We have stolen the invitations of the Cabinet Minister of Calihas and her fiancé who is the ambassador to the neighbouring country.”
“I can be an ambassador,” Anakin crossed his arms. “Besides, it’s a ball. What would I need to know about being an ambassador at a ball?”
Padmé and Obi-Wan exchanged glances again, and Anakin’s annoyance peaked at their developing language of eyebrows and lip twitches.
“Obi-Wan is better at… stalling for time. You’re better at… finding what we’ll need,” Padmé said. “This will involve a lot of talking to a lot of unscrupulous people.”
“You don’t have the patience for scum we’re about to wade through and the banthashit they’re about to spew, dear one,” Obi-Wan said bluntly, clapping Anakin on the shoulder. “And Padmé’s right. You’re good at finding things.”
“Finding things,” Anakin repeated.
“That is what we’re here for,” Obi-Wan said. “You find. We info gather, maybe have a dance or two.” He was teasing him now.
“Don’t worry,” Padmé said. “I’ll return him to you in one piece.” She winked.
And Padmé was in on it.
He huffed grumpily but nodded. In fact, they were right. He didn’t want to listen to politicians and rich people exchanging niceties and barbs. It was just …
Padmé was his wife. His wife in the arms of Obi-Wan.
It made his belly flip, the idea of them.
He knew that they talked, were friends. Had known each other a long time. Had been sent on missions together since their expertise lined up.
Seeing they had a rapport was different. The two of them were so separated in his head. His Padmé, his former Master. Categories of his life that didn’t intersect, that shouldn’t intersect because if they did he would lose one.
And he couldn’t let either of them go.
He had to put that aside right now.
Besides there was no one he trusted more with his wife than Obi-Wan Kenobi… and honestly no one he trusted his Master with more than Padmé. The two of them would look after each other in ways they did best.
He forced the fluttery feeling in his chest to go down and got ready, making adjustments to the security guard’s uniform they had stolen which was just a little too small. He took out a mending kit.
***
Anakin rolled his shoulders checking himself in the mirror. He didn’t look ridiculous. The pants were wrong, but if he had tried it with the originals they would have been half way up his calf and split in the ass by the time they had made it to the Cenuria’s home.
He grumbled yanking at the sleeve that was still just shy of the right length but not enough to be noticeable when the door opened.
His breath caught.
He had seen his wife in plenty of complex Naboo fashion looking stunning in all of them, but this was simple. A light blue ballgown with silver and jeweled accents. Her hair was up in woven Alderaanian braids, more diamonds were pinned in her hair reminding him of the night sky just after suns set.
Then she turned. Her back was open and falling down like raindrops were pearls and diamonds sparkling like her laugh sparkled, like her whole being could light up the room.
And then his eyes were somehow drawn away from her toward Obi-Wan, out of his Jedi robes and in a navy buttoned-up tail coat with silver buttons, the light blue of his tie matching the pale blue of Padmé’s dress. Pristine white gloves and pants, his boots high and shiny. On his hip was an ornamental sword where his lightsaber was hidden in the pommel. A diamond pin on his jacket matched the diamonds that sparkled along Padmé’s gown and hair.
It was like looking at a fairytale Prince and Princess.
His throat felt dry and he was supposed to say something snarky right now, right? Or clever?
He rubbed his chin to check he wasn’t drooling. The fluttering in his chest was back as well as the flipping feeling of his stomach.
“It rather suits you,” Obi-Wan said at last. The silence had gone on too long, hadn’t it?
“The pants were too short.”
“What?” Padmé said, blinking out of her own stunned expression.
“I had to ditch the pants,” Anakin repeated running a hand through his hair, wincing when it caught in the ponytail he had pulled it into. He usually let his hair fly free, but the security officers had a dress code. And a hat. He wondered if he could get away with ditching the hat.
“I think you look good,” Padmé cleared her throat. She met his eyes and they grinned at each other. “Sit down, I’ll fix your hair.”
He sat and Padmé’s fingers ran through his curls making him relax a little.
“And I’ll fix your tie,” Obi-Wan tutted. “Honestly Anakin, you can’t have a Devaronian knot in this sector it’s completely unfashionable.”
“I’m a guard, I don’t need to be fashionable,” Anakin pointed out. Obi-Wan pulled off his white gloves and his quick fingers set to the tie, gently brushing around his neck and pulling it into place.
Between the two of them, their light touches he felt flushed. Padmé stroked his head, Obi-Wan’s gentle pressure against his neck. He couldn’t think of anyone alive that he would let touch such vulnerable areas.
“Alright, alright, I’m just background. You two are the main event,” Anakin said finally pulling himself away from their fussing. It was a mistake because he was looking at the two of them again and their effect hadn’t worn off with time.
“How do we look?” Padmé had to ask.
“Beautiful,” he said foolishly. “Er–you look great Senator. You’ll fit right in, and Obi-Wan looks good–fine–good.”
“Good,” Obi-Wan said quirking an eyebrow at him.
“Let’s go then,” Anakin said turning away from the two of them before he embarrassed himself further.
–
“Quite the pair.”
Anakin startled at the whisper in his ear. He straightened trying to look like he was a security officer and not staring longingly at a pair of diplomats. He cleared his throat.
“Pardon?”
He turned. The obvious party guest smirked at him.
“They’re the talk of the ball.”
“I’m just security,” Anakin said blandly but felt annoyed at the being’s interest.
“But you have eyes,” they countered.
Anakin did have eyes. And he was distracted. They fit so perfectly together. Obi-Wan led Padmé through a perfect waltz. The two split and then came back together talking to others, whispering secretively. Padmé met his eyes once and smiled coyly then went back to whispering conspiratorially with Obi-Wan.
“It’s not for me to comment on,” Anakin cleared his throat. “Excuse me.”
He quickly slunk off. The mission. Obviously, Obi-Wan and Padmé had done a great job at distracting. Too good in fact. Everyone was looking at them and Anakin felt a helpless sort of possessiveness. Like their costumes and act were for him and him alone despite it being the opposite. That they were for everyone else these two beautiful politicians dazzling everyone at the ball with their beauty and wit.
Focus.
Find things. He was good at finding things, he thought bitterly.
He walked down the hall casually, acting with confidence like he belonged.
It was impossible not to be jealous. They fit together so well but he– he didn’t get to experience them together like this. He was always had to sneak off somewhere, or acted as the guard. He didn’t get to watch Padmé and Obi-Wan work magic together.
But they did. They did this all the time…
He wanted… he didn’t really know what he wanted. Obi-Wan and Padmé. He… he supposed he wanted–
“What are you doing here?”
Kriff.
–
Obi-Wan had lost his jacket and his shirt sleeves were rolled up as he steadily aimed the blaster fire away from them as they made their retreat. Padmé was currently in Anakin’s arms having had to ditch her high-heeled shoes.
“You have it?” Obi-Wan asked.
“I have it! Let’s go!” Anakin ordered rushing into the waiting ship and setting Padmé down so he could get into the pilot seat. He trusted Obi-Wan to follow and within a few breaths they were in orbit, in space, and then in hyperspace.
Anakin let out a groan of relief.
“Sorry,” he said, turning the chair to face them, “Got a little hot at the end there.”
“At the beginning too,” Padmé said. It seemed like a casual remark, but it was very pointed.
“Oh yes,” Obi-Wan agreed, hanging his lightsaber back on his belt and walking up to stand beside Padmé, eyeing Anakin.
Both of them were eyeing him actually.
“That uniform suits you quite nicely,” Padmé said. “It’s not often I get to see you in anything so tight.”
Anakin’s eyes widened and he looked at Obi-Wan for his reaction, but Obi-Wan was–was nodding in agreement.
“You’re wasted on Jedi robes,” he concurred.
“And all night you were so distracting,” Padmé said stepping closer until she was leaning over him, a hand squeezing his bicep.
“Very,” Obi-Wan agreed coming to his other side. “And we made a bit of a game with each other.”
“Game?” Anakin asked, his mouth dry. He was trying to read the signals, but the conclusion couldn’t be possible.
“Yes,” Obi-Wan said undoing the tie from Anakin’s neck, and pulling it free, “Of exactly what we would like to do to you at the end of the night.”
Anakin made an undignified eager sound as Obi-Wan leaned toward him, resting one hand on his thigh and whispering into his ear. “Your wife had some very explicit ideas.”
His eyes were drawn back to his wife who was pulling his hair free slipping her fingers through his curls.
“After some negotiation, we decided on what we’d like to do.”
“Aggressive negotiation,” Obi-Wan added and Anakin saw there was a stain of lipstick on his collar that matched Padmé’s.
Padmé kissed Anakin’s cheek. “If you’re amenable that is.”
“You planned this,” Anakin was so deeply in their trap, and knowing both of them could only imagine how elaborate and elegant it was their plans for him.
“You can say no of course, I would not want to overstep–” Obi-Wan began.
Anakin grabbed his wrist before he could retreat.
“Do these plans involve me between the two of you? You f-fucking me? Me inside Padmé? The three of us together?”
“Among other things,” Padmé’s smirk was amusement and promise, deep desire darkened her brown eyes and Anakin was lost before he had even sat down in the pilot’s chair.
“Who am I to argue with master negotiators?” Anakin whispered, and there were no more words as the two descended on him every little dream, every little fantasy coming true.
It turned out he could have both the Prince and the Princess. He didn’t have to choose.