Tea For Two

Chapter Two

~~~~~~~~~~

Everything was perfect. Well, as perfect as he could make it. After all, he was only a man. Noting the hour, he perused the table a final time. Location far enough away from other patrons to lend an intimacy...er...privacy to their conversation. A fresh pot of tea and two cups. One of those gooey sticky pastries she liked and a piece of cake for him.

In his mind, he could see her taking a bite of the pastry. The filling would ooze out, a little bit adhering to the corner of her mouth and she'd lick it away. Then, of course her fingers would be all sticky from the icing and she'd have to lick that away as well....

Obi-Wan frowned. Oh Force, get a grip on yourself. You're behaving like a boy with his first crush, being as silly as Anakin can get. Just remember that goofy expression he once got when looking at Padmé after ten years. Don't imitate it and embarrass yourself. Granted, Padme did look rather pretty that day, but still, Dormé doesn't need you gawking at her. It's not dignified, Kenobi.

Looking up, he saw Dormé coming towards him. The first thing he noticed was that she had her hair down. Wow. It certainly added to her appeal, dark waves streaming over her shoulders and curling slightly at the ends. He wondered what the texture would be like against his fingers and had the urge to stand and greet her as a friend he'd not seen in years, enveloping her in a hug, his hands buried in her hair.

He stood and did not hug her, bowing just a little. "Hello."

"I'm sorry I'm late," she said with a becoming blush to her cheeks. Dormé undid the cloak fastenings.

"Oh, no bother. You're right on--" He paused, words stuck in his throat as the cloak fell away. A surge of sheer appreciation.... No, sheer lust shot through him and Obi-Wan wondered if Dormé had been sharing fashion secrets with Aayla Secura. Her dress could be called modest on many worlds, especially on such a one as Coruscant with the varied cultures living here. On some worlds however, it'd get her shipped off-planet for being an assumed prostitute.

Did Padmé approve of her handmaidens dressing like this on their off hours?

Obi-Wan dismissed the musing as ridiculous. Of course she must. Dormé was wearing it, wasn't she? For all he knew, Padmé considered this dress spinsterish. He'd never really considered the female clothing styles in the Naboo culture before, but if this dress was an example of it, he wholeheartedly approved.

Her arms were covered, but her cleavage was on magnificent display. There were crisscrossed strips of fabric over her bare midriff and the skirt was not only low slung on her hips, but also had long slits that showed her legs when she walked.

He cleared his throat and tried to remember what he'd been about to say. "That is a pretty dress."

The compliment seemed to please her inordinately and she twirled for him.

Oh, very pretty, he thought with an arched brow. Nearly half her back was bare and the twirl exposed her legs again. Then she sat and her crossed arm pose pushed her cleavage up near to bursting her top. Obi-Wan sat back in his own chair and wondered why the temperature had suddenly risen about twenty degrees so quickly.

"Thank you," she replied. "I don't get to wear it very often, but it's one of my favorites."

"It's beautiful."

Dormé ducked her head and bit her lip.

"And you're not late," he blurted out, then busied himself pouring tea, admonishing himself once more to not behave like Anakin had with Padmé. I'm a grown man, he thought. I'm in my thirties. I shouldn't be having this much of a reaction to a beautiful woman. He swallowed hard and tried for a casual air. "You were right on time."

"You're being polite." She took her cup, drew the pastry plate towards her. "I'm at least five minutes late."

"A gentleman will wait hours for a lady, I assure you, Dormé." He gave an inward cringe. Smooth, Kenobi. Can't you think of anything wittier to say?

She gave a tinkling little laugh. "Oh, I've been looking forward to this. We've been so busy recently. Appointment after appointment and my lady has quite a bit on her mind."

"Is the Senate being contrary again?" Lifting his fork, he cut a bite of cake. "Would you like to try a bite?"

"When isn't the Senate being contrary? I've never been so bored as when the sessions drag on and on." Dormé looked at the cake with a tilted head, then nodded. "Very well. You tried my pastry last time, so I'll try your cake this time." She used her own fork, taking only a tiny bite, but he stopped her, taking the fork from her and digging a bigger bite onto it.

"If you're going to try it, Dormé, then have a good try. No tiny nibbles."

The bite was eaten, the rich cake savored. He liked to watch her eat something sweet for this reason. She savored each bite, enjoying it to the fullest, and always waited a long moment before taking the next bite. She claimed she could make it last all afternoon if she really tried.

Dormé opened her eyes. "Good, but I'll stick to my pastries." She shifted a little in her chair, looking down at her lap and pulling at her dress.

Obi-Wan struggled to find something to continue their conversation with. The ensuing silence felt awkward to him. Had he offended her with his enthusiastic comment on her dress? Returning to what he'd said in his mind, he cringed again when he decided his tone had been far too...fervent. He had offended her, hadn't he? He'd ogled her like a inexperienced teenaged boy and she was embarrassed.

Good going, Kenobi. She probably thinks you're going to grope her under the table or something. Pervert. Fix this.

The last thing he wanted was to offend Dormé. What on earth could he do to put her back at ease? Obi-Wan stared at his plate, frantically trying to come up with an idea.

~~~~~~~~~~

He was only being polite, wasn't he? He didn't really like her dress even though he'd said it was pretty. Dormé was grateful for the little bit of silence between them, taking the chance to smooth her dress and surreptitiously tug at the crisscrossing strips over her stomach.

It was too revealing. She'd been an idiot to pick out this dress. She'd embarrassed him by the show of skin hadn't she? That was why he wasn't looking at her, his attention firmly upon his plate. She now wished she'd worn a different dress, though her dress covered far more than Padmé's version of it. I've offended him, she thought. I should have realized.... The Jedi I've seen all wear as many clothes as Padmé did as Queen. He's modest, isn't he and now I've mucked this up. Good job, Dormé.

"Um.... Did you wish a different pastry? I could order another?" He was eying her plate with curiosity and she hurried to lift the pastry.

"Oh no, I was...distracted." The icing was sweeter than usual, nearly too sweet. Perhaps she should have him order something different. That cake he always bought had tasted delicious.

He took a sip of tea. "So, tell me more of what you've been up to since the last time we talked." There was a quick flash of even white teeth and Dormé nearly swooned from that beautiful smile.

"Just the usual. My lady is so busy that sometimes it seems we do nothing but traipse to and from the Senate building. And then what off hours we have fly by far too quickly. The days come and go and sometimes I'm not sure what we really did with the hours. There is a sense of futility I feel in the Senate, but who am I to complain?" She licked icing from her fingers.

"You're a loyal citizen of the Republic. You have as much a voice as anyone." Obi-Wan's stare followed her movements, his expression almost pleased. She liked that about him, how he gave her such attention in their conversations. As though she was the only person there.

"That's what my lady says. I know it's true in theory and I still feel the Senate does nothing but argue. Few things are ever really resolved and I worry so much for my lady. She has made enemies with her politics."

"Those who speak for truth often do. Those in the wrong don't like to see that they are wrong. When their blindness is put forward to them, they refuse to accept truth. They consider themselves right. That's simply how it is." He slid his plate to one side, crossed his arms and rested them along the edge of the table. "I asked about you, however, not Padmé. What have you been doing, Dormé? Read any good books? Seen any good shows? What do you like to do?"

What had she been doing? What did she like to do? Dormé actually had to think on the questions, for she'd wrapped herself up in her work so well that sometimes it was difficult to remember that she was a woman apart from Padmé Amidala. She'd devoted herself to keeping Padmé safe and being the sort of woman that role required. She was an essential part of the entourage, as all the handmaidens were.

She'd shopped with her lady, gone to plays with her, spent hours with her in the Senate, and pursued the same leisure activities but what had Dormé really been doing for herself? The answer to the question shocked her more than a little. Nothing. She'd done nothing for herself. Her lady's interests had become her own. The shopping, the shows, the daily doings.... All Padmé's interests. Dormé licked her lips with a tiny little frown. When was the last time she'd done anything she wanted to do?

I don't remember, she thought. I honestly don't remember when my life wasn't about my work.

"Nothing at all," he prompted, then seemed to realize she was having a difficult moment, beginning to tell her what he himself did. "When I have time I read. I enjoy a good mystery novel. On occasion I can figure out the clues before the author explains everything. Anakin reads adventures..." He stared down at his tea with a rueful expression, "and technical manuals. I should say he reads the manuals more than anything. That boy will settle down with some horribly dry technical manual and read it as though it's the most fascinating thing he's set eyes on. I've never understood that. And then he reads what he considers choice bits out loud."

"Out loud," she asked, trying to give herself longer to formulate an answer.

"Oh yes, he's been known to interrupt whatever I'm doing to read to me. He'll say 'Listen to this, Master' then read whatever it is and conclude with 'Isn't that fascinating'. I nod and try not to look as though my eyes have glazed over and I haven't actually heard one word of whatever he's been reading."

Dormé wondered if Anakin had done that with Padmé yet. She could imagine her lady's response and struggled not to giggle at the picture her mind presented her with.

"But that's just how he is," Obi-Wan continued fondly. "Always into the technical. Did you know that he used to routinely cause fires in the Temple as a boy?"

"No." Dormé smiled, relaxing a little at the thought of Anakin Skywalker starting fires. "He didn't."

"They were unintentional, of course. He was always working on some mechanical object or another and he'd power up whatever his latest project was only to have it burst into flames." He paused, the affection in his eyes bringing a lump to her throat. "Those were interesting moments, I tell you. I didn't know whether to throttle him or make him re-read the rules."

He cared for Anakin. It was sweet really. The sort of half exasperated yet proud talk a parent makes about a child. "Obviously you didn't throttle him."

"The provocation was extreme at times." Obi-Wan laughed, then shook his head. "No, Anakin wasn't nearly as much trouble as he could have been. Some of the things I expected never occurred and I must admit he's turned out far better than I ever could have dreamed he would."

Dormé put her chin in her hand and listened to more about Anakin. She wasn't really listening to the stories, just Obi-Wan's voice. He had such a soothing voice....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're boring her, Kenobi. Look at her, she's obviously uninterested in everything you're saying. That sigh, that far away look in her eyes. Talk to her and stop going on about Anakin. She's not interested in Anakin.

But he couldn't stop talking. Oh dear, he hated it when he couldn't stop burbling. It didn't happen often and he thought he'd licked that problem long ago, but no, here it was rearing its ugly head. Stories of Anakin left his lips at an alarming rate and he realized he could talk and not pay any attention to what he was saying. He went on autopilot.

Finally, Obi-Wan cleared his throat and took a long drink of tea. Maybe if they left the café, he'd have an easier time with conversation. He wouldn't find himself distracted by the enticing press of her breasts at the top of her bodice. Obi-Wan looked at her half finished pastry. "You're not hungry, are you?"

"Not particularly, no." She shook her head with an apologetic air. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan."

"About what?" He paid their server and stood, holding out a hand to her.

"I wasted your credits." Dormé put her hand in his and stood.

Obi-Wan chuckled, reaching for her cloak and helping her into it. The fabric was soft and he was just enough taller than she to manage a quick glance down her bodice as he draped the cloak over her shoulders. For the hundredth time, he reminded himself to act his age, but it was terribly difficult when she was wearing that dress. He wanted to hug her under the cover of her cloak and slide his hands along the bare skin of her back and sides.

"They're not wasted. Don't ever think I've wasted anything on you, Dormé. My free time and credits are spent how I choose and I chose to spend both on you today."

A gallant answer that sounded sappy and sugary in his mind. Their fingers tangled together on the clasp of her cloak and she let him close it for her. He was pleasantly surprised when she took his arm, fitting her hand in the crook of his elbow as he'd seen courtiers on other worlds do. Really, he thought, that shouldn't surprise him in the least. Dormé had to know how to behave in various situations simply for her role in Padmé's life. She needed to be able to blend in and not attract attention to herself. She was well-educated in many areas.

They walked together in silence. What should they do now? Obi-Wan considered several options and discarded each one as silly or completely stupid. She'd probably already been to the zoo and the historical home of Coruscant's first restaurant owner likely wasn't high on her list of things to see. He'd certainly enjoyed the home, but no one else he knew thought it was anywhere near a good time. Besides, it was on the other side of Coruscant.

What about a show? No, he didn't wish to see anything that was being performed presently. The exotic gardens? That had promise except it wasn't really the right time of year for it. Half the garden would be dormant and she deserved to see it all in full bloom. The costume museum? No, he didn't wish to subject himself to looking at clothes all afternoon unless they were on his companion. What else was there in this area?

"Have you ever been to the Museum of Coruscant History?" Dormé squeezed his arm, turning her head to look up at him. "It's small compared to some of the others, but I think we could see it in only a couple hours if we try."

Hmm, he hadn't considered that museum. He hadn't been there since he was a child, walking behind Qui-Gon and thoroughly uninterested in the lecture the tour guide was giving them. Qui-Gon had insisted on the tour and Obi-Wan had hated every minute, until they'd returned outside and his Master had heaved a long sigh and remarked, 'Well that's done with. Shall we do something fun now?' Qui-Gon hadn't enjoyed the museum either.

"No," he lied with a smile. "I've never been."

They strolled slowly towards the entrance, taking their time and Obi-wan snuck glances at her. The light was hitting her face just right. She looked absolutely beautiful. Silly lines of bad poetry he'd once memorized for a class fixed irritatingly in his brain.

Sweet Amaris, love of all time, my heart patters and lips long for yours....

He wanted to kiss her, to put his arms around her and draw her close, but it was too early for that, wasn't it? Next time they met would be far more appropriate, wouldn't it? It wouldn't do to rush her into anything. They were two adults and they'd handle this accordingly.

Besides, there were still too many people about for comfort in a public display of the affection he felt for her. He could imagine with great clarity the kidding he'd get and even the practical jokes.

Heavens help him if Mace caught word of Dormé. Obi-Wan would be hearing references to Naboo sweethearts and lucky ladies for months. Not to mention those practical jokes Mace excelled in. If he was lucky, the only thing that would happen is he'd find Dormé's name painted on his underwear when it returned from the laundry. If he was lucky. Obi-Wan didn't think he'd be that lucky. Only a few knew what was really going on behind Mace's cool exterior and Obi-wan was one of the few. Mace had a wickedly dry sense of humor.

A sudden thought cooled him even more. Surely Anakin wouldn't say anything to anyone? Beads of sweat gathered on his brow. Anakin had had that mischievous look in his eyes that guaranteed he'd do just about anything. There was a sickening lurching sensation in his belly and he glanced over his shoulder, fully expecting to see his Padawan behind them. What was Anakin up to? Had he followed him and was even now hoping to sneak a picture of his Master in a torrid, passionate clinch with Dormé? Obi-Wan could imagine that turn of events without even trying. He didn't sense Anakin nearby, however it wouldn't be the first time his Padawan had conned a friend into doing his dirty work. Obi-Wan remembered a couple of rather gullible friends of Anakin's that were on Coruscant right now....

Maybe he and Dormé could find a nice, secluded exhibit and he'd steal a kiss from her there. Yes, that was a plan. An exhibit away from the crowds where he could safely kiss Dormé without anyone seeing him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was ready, waiting and willing. So why didn't he kiss her already? Dormé had been trying to throw off 'kiss me' vibes ever since they'd left the café and it had almost seemed to work. He'd had that look on his face and the tilt to his head that usually meant a kiss was seconds away. She'd thought it finally certain and waited breathless for him to stop her and lean down to her.

He stepped back instead, leaving her confused. Why was he waiting? Did she have pastry between her teeth or something? Dormé turned her head aside, running her tongue across her teeth. When she turned back, he had a horrified expression she didn't even try to decode.

What did I do to cause that look, she wondered as Obi-Wan glanced behind them. Was there someone back there? She also looked, half expecting to see Ellé or Moteé to be there, waiting to snap a picture they could later tease her with. There was no one and she went into the museum with her companion.

~~~~~~~~~~

"He does so like her," Anakin repeated for the tenth time, idly drawing imaginary circles on his beloved's bare stomach, knowing full well that she was ticklish right there. He loved making her laugh. And smile, and sigh happily and wiggle....

Padmé wiggled with a giggle. "Anakin stop it, that tickles! Come on, please?" She swatted at his hand.

"I can predict exactly what will happen," he said raising up onto one arm and sitting, briefly conceding defeat in his tickle attack on her stomach. "They'll have tea and maybe go to a museum and that'll be all. He won't kiss her or touch her in any fashion that might be considered improper. Obi-Wan isn't the type to jump his date, even if he might want to."

"Unlike you."

Anakin laughed. "I don't jump my dates. Only you, and I have good reason to jump you, my lovely, ravishing lady." She shook her head, fanning her hair out on the pillow and arching her back in a manner that distracted him for several long moments. When he remembered the conversation, he sat back up. "No, my Master will be proper if it kills him. He will not break a vow. No matter how enticing she looks, she'll be disappointed in the end. He may like her, but he won't act on it. It'll never happen."

She rolled over and began pressing kisses to his chest and once more, he forgot all about Obi-Wan.