obianidala OneShots

Double The Trouble, Triple The Fun (1664W)

where one of my fav triads is getting ready for a fancy dinner and of course the twins decide to cause trouble now

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"Anakin, come here for a moment."

Anakin looked up at Padme from the pile of ties and bow ties he was sorting through; to the side, there was the sound of running water as Obi-Wan fixed his hair in their walk-in bathroom. "Hm?"

Padme turned her head, waved a hand at the unfastened back of her dress. "A little help, please?"

"Oh, right, sorry." Anakin stood up, several ties falling to the ground as he walked over to her. He reached down, fumbling for the tiny zipper on her dress. "Dammit, why do they make these things so small," he muttered. He got a grip on it, and tugged it up and closed. "Not to mention, clothing that needs someone else to help you put it on is ridiculous."

"Mmhm." Padme kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."

"I mean," Anakin continued, "it's practically endorsing the continued use of personal slaves, despite the fact it's illegal in most of the Republic!"

"Domestic servants, maybe," Padme said. "But I'm pretty sure there are many more leading factors even in that than zippers on dresses." She turned, raising a hand to caress the side of his face. "Nervous?" she murmured.

"A bit," he admitted. "I hate these fancy dinners. They're awkward, and everyone's tiptoing around trying to cosy up to the people with the most money, and nothing gets done."

The sound of tapwater stopped. "Plenty gets done," came Obi-Wan's voice, "there are often assassinations at this sort of thing."

"Don't tempt me," Anakin called back.

Padme laughed. "And that's why you're not a politician. Don't worry, no one's expecting you to say much. Just smile and make small talk, and it'll be over before you know it."

"I hate small talk," he grumbled.

"Go finish getting dressed, dear." She reached for her jewelry box, then paused, glanced in the mirror at the colourful assortment of patterned ties on their bed. "Anakin, you're not wearing one of those hideous things, are you? Where's your black tie?"

He shrugged, sorting through them with one hand. "In the closet, maybe. What do you think, tie or bowtie?"

"As long as it isn't striped or checkered, either is fine," she said.

"Hm. Obi-Wan?" he called, walking toward the closed bathroom door. "Tie or bowtie?"

"That depends," came Obi-wan's voice, and the door opened. "Do you want to match?"

Anakin glanced down at the black bowtie Obi-wan was wearing. "I honestly can't tell if you're being serious, so I'm just gonna go with a tie."

Obiwan shrugged. "Suit yourself. I personally find it infinitely entertaining when people ask if we're brothers. Matching bowties would certainly add to the effect."

"Brothers, my ass," he said, tugging Obi-Wan by his pristine white collar to kiss him.

"Mm." Obi-Wan smiled as he stepped back into the bathroom. "Of course, you do love to play the annoying younger brother," he said, looking down at his now-rumpled shirt, "Anakin, I just ironed this shirt."