The mouse droid in Anakin's hands squealed an objection as he hesitated too long with the hydrospanner. Anakin sighed. “All right, you can go.”
The droid beeped and scurried off. It was faster than it had been, and the reflective tape would keep people from stepping on it, even if Anakin hadn't been able to make the torque improvements to the wheels. Though in the privacy of his own mind, he could admit the wheels had enough torque already.
After he and Mace had killed Palpatine, they'd spent a month in jail together before the Senate had released them. The next few years had been a flurry of activity, the final rally of the Separatists needing to be extinguished and then aid dispensed to a myriad of worlds while Padmé and Senators Organa and Mothma rooted out Palpatine's corrupt legacy. But now, the fever pitch of activity had died down to a trickle, and Anakin had knighted his padawan and he had absolutely nothing to do.
Honestly, who'd have thought peacetime Council matters took up so little time? He really needed something to do. Maybe he should take on another padawan.
Or he could visit Luke and Leia in the crèche. Padmé had handed them over soon after their first birthday, when they'd started levitating things. Then she'd married a Nabooan philanthropist. It had stung at first, but Anakin could see they were both happier like this. Padmé could have her large family and husband in public, and Anakin had allowed himself to be happy with the Jedi instead of yearning for what might be.
The path to the crèche was familiar to him from long practice. He walked corridors much less empty than during the war and let his spirit rest in the serenity that had gradually returned to the halls.
He pushed open the bright yellow door as silently as he could. Not that that helped, since Leia immediately yelled “Dad!”, and then he had half a dozen younglings clinging to his trousers, Luke and Leia's crèchemates having decided it was only fair that they share this “dad” person who came so often to play with them and was always willing to snuggle.
An hour passed with Anakin building towers out of blocks for the younglings to knock down before one of the crèchemasters came to herd the younglings off for a nap. Anakin watched the little ones grumble a bit before droopily toddling off. The sight never failed to tug at his heartstrings: Luke and Leia, so comfortable and at home here, being adorable with all their friends of multiple species. They'd make great Jedi one day.
Anakin rose once the final child had tottered out of sight. He shook his head fondly at how adorable they were. Odd how a few years could change one’s perspective so thoroughly – he’d had to be assigned youngling duty when he’d been Knighted, but now he did it voluntarily.
There were no messages for him on his comm as he left the crèche. Force, what was this? Had the universe decided to close for the week?
Without much conscious thought he wandered in the general direction of the salles. There were many Jedi in residence now, so hopefully he'd find a sparring partner who wasn’t just another awestruck padawan. Or he could go to the training droids, if he felt nostalgic for the experience of being shot at from multiple directions.
Cin Drallig was leading some young padawans in sparring practice in the first salle. At least one's master was watching from the sidelines, but no-one Anakin recognized.
The next room held a few people already in the midst of bouts Anakin was loath to interrupt. The third-
“Hello, Anakin,” Master Windu said, all alone in the room and obviously in the middle of a warmup. He lunged, deep, and flipped over his head in a move more impressive than practical, before landing gracefully on his feet.
Anakin bowed. “Hello, Master Windu.” He always felt a bit bashful in front of Master Windu, even if they’d killed Palpatine together. Today was no exception.
Master Windu snorted. “A month locked together in a cell, three years on the Council together, countless Senate councils and projects, and I still don’t have the answer.” He took a step closer and made eye contact. “What will it take for you to call me Mace?”
Anakin didn't answer, a complex knot of feelings beating in his chest like it always did when Master Windu was present. He bowed and did a quick warm-up. Next to him, Master Windu was shaking his head amusedly. Anakin could feel his gaze on him and resisted the urge to trip over his feet doing something excessively fancy.
Soon he considered himself warm enough for a bout. It took a bit longer now that he was twenty-five rather than nineteen, but he'd heard worse was to come and that he should enjoy his youth while it lasted. He tossed his cloak to the side of the room and bowed once more, lightsaber out.
Master Windu bowed as well and lit his lightsaber. Anakin didn't have time to consider what he might want to try before a purple blade was upon him.
He parried and feinted a riposte. Master Windu pivoted and struck again, forcing Anakin to step aside.
He opened himself to the Force and the futures it might show. He saw the next strike before it came and got himself into position to properly riposte off it, forcing Master Windu to step back. This didn't slow Master Windu, though, as his Force presence was the universe, honed to an edge, ready to cleave through the darkness and it was beautiful-
Anakin was jerked from his observation by his lightsaber flying out of his hand. “I yield,” he sighed at the purple blade of plasma hovering at his neck.
“I am flattered, but ogling won't win this battle.” Master Windu sounded amused.
“It's your Force presence,” Anakin tried to explain as he summoned his lightsaber back to his hand. He studiously ignored the fluttering feeling in his heart.
“Mm-hmm. Another?”
“Of course.” Anakin stepped back and settled into Soresu's opening stance. He'd inevitably end up back in his Djem So, but he might as well try branching out a bit.
Master Windu brought his lightsaber up and attacked. Anakin slid to the side in one of the basic Soresu parries.
Be the air. The air cannot be cleaved.
Anakin exhaled, and Master Windu's blade slid off his again. He let himself fall into a rhythm, as if this were a basic Soresu exercise, and let Master Windu lead him towards a corner before jumping over him with one of the more impressive Ataru leaps, pivoting on one foot, and striking at Master Windu's back.
He blocked, of course, and retaliated with a slash that had Anakin somersaulting backwards, but Anakin noticed the new gleam in his eye and the way he lit up in the Force. Master Windu loved a good spar.
So did Anakin. He mostly blocked this time, with the occasional strike back when he noticed weakness in Master Windu's defense – not that any of them connected – and tried to bait Master Windu into overextending. He felt the annoyance at how Anakin slid around his attacks, the appreciation of a good fight, the thrill of the chase, the sheer joy of motion and saberwork and entwinement with the other in the Force that echoed in Anakin's own heart.
They were at the edge of the salle again. Anakin took another step back, forcing Master Windu to pursue.
The moment his foot was off the ground, Anakin used the Force to push him backwards with a slight twist. Master Windu fell onto the floor, lightsaber to the side, where it couldn't block Anakin's blade brought to his throat. “I yield,” he said, a laugh on his lips. “Well done. I didn't know you'd studied Niman.”
Anakin automatically ducked his head and felt his cheeks heat up. “I've had a lot of time recently,” he said as he helped Master Windu up.
“Careful; keep speaking like that, and the next time you visit, crèchemasters will lock you in until you've picked a padawan.” Master Windu looked at him consideringly. He still hadn't let go of Anakin's hand. “Though if you're bored, perhaps I should let them.”
“Even if I lock you in with me?”
Master Windu's lips twitched. “If you want to get locked in a room with me, just ask.” He leaned in and whispered, as if in confession, “Though I'd really prefer it if you called me Mace.”
Anakin reflexively squeezed Master Windu's hand. He thought of the knot of feelings growing within him, aggravated by Master Windu's presence, and tugged at one of the ends. He hadn't dared think about it, busy and raw from the war and Padmé and Palpatine as he'd been, but now-
He swallowed. “After we're done,” he hesitantly said, “would you like to come over for tea ... Mace?”
Mace Windu smiled. “I'd love to.” He ran his thumb over the back of Anakin's hand. “Another round?”
Anakin put on his best cocky grin. “You're on.”
They locked blades once more, blue against purple. The Force thrummed with an anticipation Anakin couldn't wait to bring to a head.
And if everything went smoothly – well. Luke, Leia, and the rest would surely enjoy a second dad to climb on.