Day One
Genesis
The fire had died down, so Anakin lit their own small campfire with his lightsaber. They had crashed around midday here, and now the sun hung low in the west.
Padmé was leaning against a tree, wrapped up in blankets like a mummy. Anakin was struggling with the tent, which kept trying to fold in on itself. Watching him, Padmé wanted to giggle but knew it would only harm her. She could still smile, though.
Anakin turned to her and glared. “You think this is funny?” he demanded, exasperated. The tent caved again.
Padmé couldn’t stop the giggle this time, much as it hurt. Smiling despite the pain, she gasped out, “Most powerful Jedi ever, and he can’t even set up a little tent.”
“And you could?”
Padmé managed a tiny shrug. “I would if I could, but I can’t.”
Rolling his eyes, Anakin returned to his task. “Obi-Wan always -grunt- always helped -grunt- me before.”
“Uh-huh.”
The tent fell back out of Anakin’s grip. He dove for it and lost his balance. Padmé bit back another giggle. Anakin pulled himself up, careful of his broken collarbone. Then he let out a frustrated snarl and kicked at the fabric. “Stupid thing!” he growled. He turned to his wife and said, “A little help?”
Padmé raised her eyebrows and looked pointedly down at her cocooned self.
“But do you know how to set this up?” Anakin persisted.
“Sure. I would watch Dad do it when he took us camping.”
“You knew all along and didn’t tell me?”
“I thought that you’d have had it figured out by now!”
“You thought I’d...thanks a lot, Padmé!”
Once Padmé started directing Anakin, the tent was raised quickly. The Jedi Padawan then set to making dinner.
“Well,” Padmé said with a straight face, “If you can’t set up tents, at least you can cook.”
Anakin threw her an extraordinarily rare long-suffering look. “Open up, Ladyship.”
Padmé obediently opened her mouth for Anakin to feed her another chunk of meat. “Seriously, this is-”
“No talking with your mouth full,” Anakin admonished playfully. “Come on, you’ve been to etiquette school.”
Padmé threw him a mock-icy glare and swallowed. “Don’t rebuke me when I’m complimenting you.”
A lopsided grin spreading across his face, Anakin settled easily back on his haunches. “Oh, well then in that case.”
Padmé rolled her eyes. “Just going to say how tasty the meat was,” she muttered.
Anakin’s grin grew even wider. “‘Not much spice – just enough’.”
“You sounded like you were quoting,” Padmé noted.
“An admirable observation. Dex Jettster says that. He taught me how to cook, since Obi-wan, umm...” He waved his left hand expressively.
Padmé grinned with understanding and thought that if her husband’s grin got any wider, his face would split.
~*~
Anakin snuggled in the sleeping bag next to Padmé. She was slightly Force-sensitive, but she didn’t need the Force to figure out that her husband was dead-tired. Still, she had to tell him – she didn’t want to postpone it any longer. “Ani?”
“Mmm?” came the sleepy reply.
“Ani, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Anakin opened his eyes. “What, honey?”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then started into those impossibly blue eyes. “I’m...Ani, I’m pregnant.”
Anakin’s face was radiant. “Pregnant? You’re going to have a baby?”
Padmé smiled. “That’s generally what being pregnant means,” she teased. “And he’s your baby, too.”
Anakin’s smile was beatific. I’m gonna be a father – Force, I am a father! “Wait a minute – he? How do you know it’s a boy?”
Padmé grinned. “I don’t… for sure. But I hope.”
“How long have you been pregnant?”
Padmé stared at Anakin. “You know what today’s date is, and you know what day we were married. You do the math.”
“Two months? You’ve been pregnant for two months, and you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t know for sure until a month ago. Then, I wanted to wait for the trip home from the negotiations to tell you so that we could celebrate after work.”
“Oh.” Good one, Skywalker, Anakin thought. That sounded inane.
“Mm. I’m due early next spring.”
“Around my birthday?” Anakin asked hopefully.
“March, not April.”
Anakin grinned. “Okay, early birthday present.”
Padmé grinned back. “Maybe by then, Dan and Gil will have made some progress with the Jedi Council on the marriage issue.”
Anakin snorted and rolled his eyes. “Right, and the war will be over, too. Don’t think it’ll happen that quick, Pad.”
Padmé shrugged slightly. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” she said, quoting something Anakin had said before their marriage.
Anakin nodded. “Just for tonight, there’s no war or Jedi. Just you, me, and our baby.”
“Our baby boy,” Padmé corrected, grinning.
“Our baby boy,” Anakin grinned back.
