Father Be Thy Name
What To Expect…..
Summary: As soon as life seems peaceful for Anakin Skywalker, the Force has another idea altogether. AU. Sequel to Skywalker Matrimony and Part 4 of the Fathers and Smugglers series.
Disclaimer: George Lucas, Lucasfilm. End of story.
A/N: Err, um. Hi? A long, long, time ago, on a profile in a fandom far, far away existed a little story called Meet the Skywalkers. Now, the author has returned injected with a fresh dose of sarcastic humour. Please, hold the applause. Oh yes she's back!! I thank Channel 7 for airing the namesake to one of the previous stories in the series, Father of the Bride, for kicking me back into gear. Acknowledgements to be made at a later time...wouldn't want to ruin things for you!
Warnings: A bit of naughty language here; both English and Basic (i.e. Starwarsian)
Chapter One: Master of All Things
Anakin Skywalker, Jedi extraordinaire grimaced as for the third time in a standard hour, his padawan had jabbed him unceremoniously in the knee with her lightsaber. He turned his head so the cause of his problems, one Mara Jade, could not see the look of defeat on his face.
A Jedi knows not defeat nor old age.
Anakin Skywalker feared he would become the expert if he kept training with the beast.
"I think that is enough training for today Mara," Anakin said sternly, mimicking the look he had received from Obi-Wan on too many occasions to count. Now HE was the Master, HE made the rules and there was no way HE was going to let his padawan win. Ever.
"Getting tired Skywalker?" Mara shot back, putting her lightsaber back on its hilt and slightly cocking her eyebrow. This Skywalker business may have worked on his son but it would not work on him. The Beast would not win. He had trouble enough winning against his own wife let alone winning against a pesky little girl.
"Padawans should not attempt to get smart to their Masters, Young One," Anakin replied as diplomatically as possible. He ignored the urge to use the Force to somehow cause irreparable damage to Mara's vocal chords. He suspected it would finally earn whoever was closest to their bedroom some peace and quiet. Anakin feared his nightmares would never end. There was only so many times a father could hear a woman agree very LOUDLY with his only son and not want to Force-combust his own ears.
Just as Mara was about to snidely reply, Anakin's commlink went off.
Saved by the Force.
"Master Skywalker," Anakin said as professionally as Jedi-ly possible. He was greeted with a mocking laugh; a laugh that was evil, sadistic and would haunt him until old age beat him down with the fat and ugly stick.
I really need to get a commlink screener installed.
"You owe me credits old man."
The only thing that could have made this moment worse was if Mara Jade, the in-law discipline were to get involved.
And by the Force, that was exactly what she did.
"Don't you have some poor penniless spice addict to scheme some money out of Solo?" she snapped, using her "only to be used in relation to the Force and who are we kidding here?" Jedi skills to access the commlink.
Anakin liked to think her attitude and fast responses to, well, irritating situations was due to his training. Or that she was just a pain in his...
"Ass!" Mara added for good measure.
Anakin couldn't help be just a little proud.
Only a little.
"Give me that," he snapped, manually retrieving his commlink from his unruly padawan. "I thought we had decided it was double or nothing," Anakin mumbled.
Again with the laugh. Evil, evil thing.
"Do you think a guy like me has time to organise another Sabacc game with the likes of you Paps? Important people such as me have better things to do..."
If the next words out of his mouth are "like your sweet, innocent and not at all sexually active, daughter Leia," lightsabers will be a-flyin'.
"...like working on the Falcon before tonight's fabulous dress-up-to-impress-the-monkey-looking-natives-of-Kemblonia-at-the-grand-Skywalker-retirement-function-do."
Kriffing kriff with a side order of steaming hot kriff.
The Chancellor herself, the great Padmé Skywalker, Jedi lover and resident calm to Anakin's crazy, was retiring. And the retirement gala with representatives from just about every planet ever to exist in the universe ever was tonight.
As in, the gala that was going to happen in about one hour's time.
The gala where he has promised his darling wife he would, firstly be on his best behaviour and secondly, be there on time.
Anakin Skywalker had just made a liar out of himself.
"Wait a second Paps, if you're with the redhead then you're not..."
A Coruscant Nobel for the smart man.
"No, not ready," Anakin replied evenly, trying to ignore the panic flooding his super Jedi senses.
Siths, gundarks and drunk and disorderly citizens he could handle. Being late to the most important night (well maybe not counting their wedding night...) of his wife's life was inconceivable. For the first time in a long time, the Jedi Master felt fear.
Not the kind of fear that Yoda spoke of...not the all-consuming, path-to-the-darkside, destroy all of humanity type of fear. No, this fear was much, much worse. This fear was an eternity sleeping on the couch and drinking into the wee hours of the morning with Obi-Wan and Threepio type of fear.
"Well Daddy dearest, I suppose you'd better get your ass into gear and..."
Anakin cut him off abruptly and spun around to find his redheaded padawan gone. Mara, being the complete opposite of every woman in the Republic took only moments to get ready so he would bet his last credit, the ones that weren't owed to the scoundrel that she would make it there before he did.
Besides, she was just the girlfriend. Luke would play the dutiful son and be at the gala to support his mother and simply wait for Mara there.
Anakin however had no such luxury.
Grabbing Stevie off the floor and adding him to his stylish Jedi utility belt, Anakin ran as fast as Jedi-ly possibly.
If it took every last ounce of his ability to use the Force, Anakin would be there on time.
Or so help me Force.