where Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Padme cohabit above a bookshop the biggest argument they've had in months is brewing. Someone has drunk the last of the milk, and they haven't replaced it.

^°^°^°^°^°^°^°^

Cohabiting with her two lovers in a flat above a bookshop. If you’d asked Padme Amidala when she was younger what she wanted to do with her life, that sentence would never have even crossed her mind. By the time she'd left her teenage years she'd have been rather surprised, but far from displeased.

The flat was a little small, and Padme’s outfit collection a little big. Obi-Wan had the same problem with books and Anakin could never leave his mechanics in the shop. But it wasn’t space that they ever argued about. It wasn’t where people slept. It wasn’t even on the rent, which you would expect with three individually financed people cohabiting. The most common argument, the one that led to more fights than anything else was:

“Who drank the last of the milk?” Anakin Skywalker yelled, standing with the fridge open. His left arm was freezing. His right arm might have been as well, but while the motor control was great, sensory feedback was non-existent.

“Not me!” Obi-Wan called through from the tiny nook he called a study. “I don’t know why you buy the blue stuff anyway, why can’t we be normal and get the green?”

“I got the milk last time and I prefer the blue.” Anakin called back through, slamming the fridge door shut. “You want the green milk, you go and get it.”

“I didn’t drink the last of the milk. And the green milk is what everybody drinks, there’s a reason it’s by far the most popular choice in the supermarket.” Obi-Wan insisted, giving up on reading. He closed the Ethics textbook with a sigh and went through to the kitchen. “I have to teach that next week you realise.”

“And I have to be at the shop in ten minutes.” Anakin said. “Besides, blue milk is how milk is supposed to be. The amount of processing they do for the green capped stuff is ridiculous.”

“Well,” Padme said, walking in while sticking the final few pins in her hair. “I didn’t drink the last of it, and I had to be in the office ten minutes ago, so be nice.” She kissed each of them goodbye. Then stopped and turned. “Can you two both agree that the red stuff is disgusting?”

Anakin and Obi-Wan looked at each other. Anakin glared suspiciously.

“I don’t know…” Obi-Wan began before catching the look on Anakin’s face. “Yes.”

They had this discussion an average of once a month.

Anakin glanced at his watch and swore. “Change the ten minutes to right now.” He glared at the closed fridge. “I’m not getting more milk, I got it last time and I didn’t finish it.”

“Neither did I.” Obi-Wan insisted, before walking out of the kitchen into the hall, looking for his shoes, and his jacket. “Anakin, is it possible Ahsoka drank it?” He called through.

“Ahsoka hasn’t been by in a month.” Anakin frowned, not that either of his lovers could see it. He wondered out to the hall and repeated the gesture, then looked for his trainers. “Neither has anyone else at the Shop. Didn’t a TA come over last night?”

“No?” Obi-Wan said genuinely stumped for a moment, tossing Anakin his leather jacket while searching for his coat.

“Guy in the really nice coat, was leaving as I came in, saying something about a daughter and adoption?” Anakin prompted shrugging the jacket on.

“The nice coat didn’t seem odd on a TA?” Padme pointed out, “Can you pass me my coat Ben, the blue one today.”

Obi-Wan passed her the coat.

“That was Bail, one of my colleges, and an old friend. He’s been around loads, are you sure you’ve never met him?” Padme continued, putting the coat on.

Anakin glared at her. Then asked. “So did he drink the last of the milk?”

“I don’t think so?” Padme frowned, trying to remember. “We did have tea, but he takes it with lemon.”

Obi-Wan frowned at them. “Have you seen my –“

“Kitchen.” Both Anakin and Padme said at once.

“Right,” Obi-Wan retrieved his textbook then returned. “Goodbye, take care, don’t kill each other, see you later.” He kissed both of them on the forehead before practically running out of the door, coat unfastened, satchel stuck under his arm.

Anakin glanced at the time again. “Kriffing hell.” He was now late to the Shop already, and he hadn’t even left yet. Rex and Ahsoka were not going to let him live this down. Late all five days in a week, for the second week in a row.

“Love you dear, argue about the milk later.” Anakin kissed Padme then ran out the flat, heading in the opposite direction to that Obi-Wan had a moment earlier.

Padme sighed.

When she got home, first for once, there was a message waiting by the answerphone. Padme picked up the post it note.

[Stopped by yesterday as well, forgot you were all working. Watered the houseplants, and had some tea, hope you don’t mind. I got Ani more milk today. Will try again later. Love Shimi]

Well, that explained the only other person who actually liked the blue milk. Then Padme groaned. She’d have to put up with it for ages now. She left the note where it was, and looked around the small apartment. That pot plant seriously needed - oh! Memory suddenly jogged she started up Obi-Wan's computer. If she could just check...

Anakin was next in, but Obi-Wan was the next one to find the note. He read it with some amusement, then went to find Padme, who had taken over his ‘study’.

“Shimi huh?”

“Apparently,” Padme said, slimming a page of dense legalese on the computer screen. “Give me a moment….” She scribbled something down on her notepad. “Ahah, got it. Sorry dear,” She spun the chair around. “Good evening.”

“Good evening,” Obi-Wan leant down and kissed her hello. “So, Shimi.”

“Always the option you don’t suspect. It was pelting it down yesterday.” Padme considered, “I nearly got soaked on the way to work.”

“True,” Obi-Wan considered. “Has Anakin seen this yet?”

“He hasn’t said anything.” Padme told him, turning back to the screen and closing down her tabs and grabbing her notebook. “Sorry about that by the way, I just had a brainwave.”

“Which policy?” Obi-Wan said, taking advantage of the cleared desk space to dump his bag.

“Park management and funding.”

“Ah.” Obi-Wan said, as Padme stood up. “That’s been a bug for a while hasn’t it?”

“Yes, I’m just going to message Bail and Mon, and then I’ll change and put work aside.” She dug her phone out of her bag and walked towards their bedroom, “It’s your turn to cook dinner.”

“Do you want Chinese or Pizza?” Obi-Wan called after her. She let out a laugh as Anakin emerged from the bathroom into the hall, his hair damp, a towel around his waist.

“Pizza please,” Anakin requested. “I didn’t know you’d gotten home.”

“Just got in. Did you come home without showering at the shop again?”

“No…..” Anakin dragged the word out in such a way that it clearly meant yes.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed. Then stopped. “Please tell me you didn’t get oil on the carpet at least.”

“Everything’s clean,” Anakin rolled his eyes, then spotted the note stuck to Obi-Wan’s fingers. “What’s that?”

Obi-Wan passed it to him.

Anakin read the note. Then reread the note. Then refused to feel guilty over causing a fuss that morning. “Soooooo…. Pizza then? If we’re expecting company.”

“I’ll take it.” Obi-Wan said after a moment of consideration. “PADME? WHAT KIND OF PIZZA DO YOU WANT?”

There was the sound of a loud sigh as Padme left her room. “One of these days, I will get one of you to cook for guests.”

There was a knock at the door. The milk thief had arrived.

Padme watched as Obi-Wan disappeared off to find the phone number of the Pizza place, and Anakin dropped the note in the bin before going to let his mother in.

They had some odd arguments in this household, but it was worth it. The call of a Pizza preference sounded in the distance. It was definitely worth it.