Chapter Text
“Sooo, who launched the missile?”
The three of them looked over at the sly smile on the delegate’s face. He faltered at their blank incomprehension. “Um. Won the great race? Put the bun in the metaphorical oven.” At their continued confusion he visibly wilted. “Oh dear, unless mammalian humanoids don’t work quite like that, in which case, my deepest apologies.”
The troopers that accompanied the trio were nothing if not helpful. “We launch a great deal of aerial weaponry and excel at contests of speed, though I can’t say many in the GAR are very good at baking,” Rex interjected. He jerked a thumb over at the trooper to his left. “Fives can make a mean quiche if he can get his hands on the ingredients though.”
“Ah…” The delegate was floundering in earnest now.
Understanding dawned. “Oh,” Padme said, settling a hand over her gently swelling abdomen. “You mean my pregnancy?”
The delegate brightened. “Yes! Congratulations, to you and, um, your partner?” His eyes flitted between Anakin and Obi-wan, decorum obviously at war with curiosity. “I would give you the traditional greeting, only, um, I’m not quite sure…”
“It’s quite all right, ambassador,” Padme said with grace. She looks over behind her and gives a cheeky grin. Anakin beams back while Obi-wan only crosses his arms in amusement. “They are both my partners.”
“Oh! Well excuse my lapse, then, if you’d allow me to show you to your rooms-”
After the doors to their private apartment had closed behind him Anakin finally burst into laughter. “The look on your face,” he gasped, collapsing onto the plush carpet. Obi-wan sniffed as he began a circuit of the room.
“Launched the missile,” he muttered in disbelief, peering at their security measures.
“Buns...in ovens…” Anakin chortled.
Padme kept a straight face for a few beats longer. “So which of you gentlemen won the great race,” she said dryly, and that was enough to send all three of them off again.
“The only race...I’m winning,” Anakin wheezed, “is the race to the fresher.”
“Too late, I think Obi-wan’s beaten you there.”
“Correct,” a voice echoed from the spacious fresher door, the sound of water being drawn already ringing through the apartment. “However, I’m generous enough to share with my fellow missile launcher if he decides to behave himself.”
Anakin helped her off the couch and accompanied her to the fresher doorway. “I always behave,” he protested.
“Negative, you and Padme both splash and if you two get soap in my eyes again I am divorcing both of you.”
“Divorced. During our own honeymoon,” Padme said dryly. “Anakin why did we marry this cruel, cruel man.”
Anakin paused thoughtfully from where he was stripping out of his clothes. “He’s good at folding sheet corners on the bed? I don’t know.” He looked over at where their third was carefully measuring out the bubble bath. “Hey Obi-wan what are your redeeming qualities?”
The splash followed by an indignant yelp was all the answer they needed.
Elsewhere on the lavish vacation planet, the clones fielded questions of their own.
“So who is the father?” the hotel manager asked, leaning over the ocean side bar top. Rex shrugged and threw back another piña colada .
“The Force,” he said, deadpan.
The manager looked at the other troopers in helpless askance.
“They both are,” Echo explained seriously
“Or neither, really,” Waxer added.
Fives tapped his nose. “Jedi magic your mortal mind can’t comprehend,” he said ominously.
And that was the end of that.