Secretly Normal

Cooking

Anakin gave his wife a hard stare as she laughed lightly. It didn't stop her. She kept her amused countenance and continued, almost taunting,

"Anakin, you can't cook."

It's like she was speaking to a child. You tell the truth but in such a way that it's patronizing, like you don't want to hurt their feelings. Well. She didn't know the truth. Not yet anyway.

"I told you, I'll make dinner."

She just shook her head and spoke slowly, like she was trying to figure out the best way to put her thoughts into words without putting him down completely. "I...appreciate that you want to do this. I really do. But Anakin, you have no experience and last time...Just, either I'd rather help you or maybe I can order us something nice. Oh! A few Senators and I went the other day to this spectacular restaurant to discuss a new protocol. I'll call and see if they deliver. The food was...oh, what was it...Correlian I think?  I can't remember. But it was delicious."

There was this look on her face, a type of determination he'd quickly learned neither to interrupt, nor to interfere with. It was dangerous to encounter. Most people close to her knew this and often didn't argue, her husband included. But tonight was different.

"I can do this. We've been married for two years, let me do something nice for once."

She looked disappointed, like she was afraid he was going to say that. There were a number of ways she could take it. Either she'd let him or she wouldn't. Instead of being angry, she let out a sigh and ran a hand over her hair. "Fine. I'll help you then." She moved towards him, towards the kitchen in her apartment, but he placed out his hands to catch her shoulders, holding her in place. "I can do this." He repeated.

"Last time you burned something."

"Last time was different."

"You didn't even know what you were doing!"

"I know now."

She almost laughed, but it came out more a frustrated scoff. "What, did you take lessons? From who? The Jedi Temple droids that pass out rations?"

"My mom." He replied quietly.

Then she was still, like something of spell had frozen her in place. Her eyebrows came together ever so slightly in concern and he could sense the questions forming together in her mind.

"I didn't just come home and let her do everything herself," He continued. "Sometimes she'd save up and get a nice ingredient or two. Sometimes we'd have a real meal. Either way, I always helped her. Even if I didn't always want to. I still remember a lot. Last time I messed up because I was stressed out. My mind wasn't all there, probably because I was on meds and wasn't paying attention-"

"You were on meds? You didn't tell me!"

"It didn't matter at the time. Blaster shot in my shoulder. But the point is-"

"A blaster shot? Ani, why wouldn't you...wait, is it still there?"

"That was a year ago."

"Oh. Right. Sorry, I just..." She trailed off, bringing a hand to her forehead. At that he smiled a little and pulled her into him, resting his head on hers.

"Don't worry. I'm fine this time. I promise. And I want to do this. I'll do it right."

The reply came muffled into his chest, but it sounded something like affirmation. Drawing back her head, she watched his eyes. "I didn't know how much this means to you. I'm sorry." She apologized, but he just kissed her forehead and replied that everything was fine. Then it was her turn to smile. "You'd better get started, Master Chef."

With that, he started while she found small tasks to occupy herself with, like setting the table. Eventually she did order something from another restaurant, just dessert because they agreed it would only be fair that if he picked dinner, she'd get to pick dessert. The meal itself was simple and quick, the kind of basic food a normal family would make on those nights when there were no better options. Somehow for them, it couldn't be more perfect. For Anakin, it was a small thing passed down from his mother, someone they both knew and loved that connected them. For Padmé, the fact that it meant so much to him, and that he prepared it alone and for her alone gave her a type of satisfaction she couldn't get anywhere else.

"So," Padmé said afterwards, sitting at her couch. "Now that we've discovered your hidden talent, do we alternate?"

"Alternate?" He questioned, puzzled as he sat beside her.

"Mhm. I cook one day, then it'll be your turn."

"Oh no. There's no way." He declared, to which she gave a look in disbelief.

"I think you should. After all, you're not at all bad."

"I'm certainly not great either."

"Well, we should at least try."

"Tell you what, since you're so much better than me, how about you pick up where my mom left off. I can be your student and we'll share days until I'm good enough to manage on my own. Then, and only then, maybe for...special occasions."

She lit up like Life Day. "You'd be my student?"

"It wouldn't be so bad. Better take the offer before I take it back." He grinned in reply.

"Then it's settled. We'll start tomorrow morning."

"Senate adjourned then. Finally."

"Oh, stop."

She hit him with a couch pillow and he flinched back, laughing. That's how the rest of the night went, talking and teasing until neither of them could keep their eyes open any longer.