When You Come Home

-2-

"Father, I'm home!" Anakin called, kicking off his sneakers at the door. Peering into the dark apartment, illuminated only by the reflections coming from the glowing city below the window, he fumbled for the light switch. "Father?"

He dropped his bag on the kitchen vinyl, stepping into the carpeted lounge area. Popping his head around the wall, he scanned the dark living room, eyes darting over the empty couches and black TV screen. His gaze flicked to the analogue clock hanging over the bench separating the kitchen and lounge: 20:36. Qui-Gon must have been held up by a late meeting. Or perhaps he was having dinner with that pretty red-head, Shaak Ti.

He snatched the phone off the bench, punched in a few numbers, and ordered a pizza. It looked like he would be dining solo tonight. Not that he minded.

"Luke!" He cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted down the hall. Jangling and scampering preceded a dull thud before the door to Anakin's bedroom creaked open. A black-and-brown arrow galloped from the darkness, shiny eyes glittering as the sausage dog bounded up to Anakin. The boy crouched down and flung his arms wide open, catching the flying creature as he showered him with wet kisses.

"Hey buddy!" Anakin laughed, sitting under the bench and squeezing his little dog. "I missed you, too! You didn't say goodbye to me this morning."

The dog whimpered and whined, wriggling out of his arms and scrabbling across the kitchen lino to his empty food bowl. Plonking his tiny rump down, he could barely stay still as his whole body squirmed from his wagging tail.

"Did I forget to feed you this morning?" Anakin pulled a face, struggling to his feet and rummaging through the beige cupboards until he found his dog's biscuits. Scooping out two cups, he emptied them into the bowl, pointing an accusatory finger at Luke's quivering nose. "Wait ...."

A pink tongue ran across a whiskered muzzle. Beady eyes turned even more pleading. The tail twitched a little bit harder.

"Okay, eat!" Luke dove for his food, snuffling and scoffing his biscuits. Anakin laughed again, stroking his soft ears. "Good boy. Lemme know if you see your sister, okay? I haven't said hello to her yet. I'm in the shower, so if you hear the doorbell ring, tell the pizza guy he can come in?"

Twenty minutes later, Anakin exited the bathroom at the end of the hall, rubbing a fluffy towel through his short, dark blond hair. In place of his grubby but comfortable hoodie was a khaki long-sleeve and grey jeans. It was impractical for how late it was, but Anakin had always been particular about only wearing his pyjamas right before bed. Any sooner and he felt too vulnerable.

Besides, he couldn't stand being seen in anything but daytime clothing. Not that his father was likely to be home for a while.

Again, Anakin didn't mind. He liked being alone – alone from his father, anyway.

Sniffing out the box of pizza that had landed on his doorstep, he swooped it inside and flopped onto the couch. Slouching into its soft leather cushions, he swung his feet onto the footrest. Having made room for his snuggly dog, he aimed the TV remote at the screen and switched it on, flipping through channels.

"Kids' cartoons, nature shows, and stocks programs," he muttered. "What do you take me for? Finally, something good!" He landed on the latest newsfeed, dubbed The Holonet by trailblazing journalists. "Like they could ever create holograms," he scoffed. "They're exploring completely the wrong venue. Their light refractions are all incorrect, the cameras too weak."

He stopped his grumbling when none other than Cody Fett, Rex's deadpan brother appeared on the screen. Sitting down with a flower of a reporter, he outlined in the vaguest of details the impending war.