Chapter Text
"E chu ta!" Shmi hissed to herself, as she tugged on the loose gasket. Ani wasn't nearby to hear, but at this point she had become accustom to her made up curses. Shmi'd had quiet the mouth on her before her son was born, but, the woman had promised herself, she wasn't going to raise her Ani in the same environment she herself had to grow up in. Shmi wasn't sure how well it had worked, Ani seemed to take great pleasure in learning all of them, but at least she wasn't likely to get a phone call from one of his teachers for calling a classmate "sleemo ".
The young boy was in the front office, chased inside by the afternoon heat. She felt bad that her poor boy had to be dropped off at the garage after school, but she had no one to watch him at home, and there was no way she could afford a babysitter. Anakin didn't seem to mind, he was always chasing her and Watto around endlessly quizzing them about whatever task they were preforming, he loved working with the large machines every bit as much as Shmi did.
If she didn't have her Ani to look out for, love for cars or not, Shmi would have told Watto exactly where he could shove her job.
The man had been on her case all day. Over all manner of small things. The woman knew he was stressed over rent, last month had been rough for them, but Shmi was just about done with his crap. If she saw any sign that Watto was yelling at Anakin...
She didn't though. In fact the old man seemed to enjoy having Ani around the shop, humoring his tireless questions with warm smiles.
Shmi popped her head up over the hood as a flat, two-toned chime rang out through the bay area. It was a cheap alarm that Shmi had helped jury rig. It let anyone working out in the bay know when the front office doors were opened. Shmi ducked back down, and was once more elbow deep in Chevy guts, before she remembered Watto was out to lunch.
The young woman quickly wiped her hands on a nearby rag and headed inside. Shmi didn't like that Ani was alone in the office with a stranger. Watto would have come directly back to the bays, not enter through the front. She would have sworn they didn't have any other appointments for today, but walk-ins weren't unheard of. Vehicles weren't known for breaking down according to a convenient, planned schedule.
Shmi entered the office through the side door, which opened from the garage bay. The office was small, just big enough for the two desks shoved to either side of the room, the front counter, and a couple of plastic chairs on the far side. Papers, that varied from hand written notes to to-go menus, were pinned to every available surface. A kind soul may have called it cozy, Shmi called it cramped. The young woman suspected Watto kept it that way just to chase off anyone who might consider lingering at the office, to wait there for their car to be finished.
She could see Ani from where she stood. If she didn't know her son, Shmi might think this new customer scared him. Anakin was tucked up under the front desk, hidden from the view of anyone who entered the building through the main entrance. He wasn't hiding, though, Ani always liked to situate himself beneath the counter. The young boy would spead out his things across the floor and sprawl out. He claimed that it was his office area. Shmi tried, several times as a matter of fact, to get him to sit at one of the desks, but it never lasted more that a few minutes. Shmi'd run outside to get some work done, and come back to her son splayed out in his usual spot.
Said child was giving her a wide eyed, raised eyebrows look, from where, she assumed, their customer didn't even know he existed. Shmi scowled playfully at his sass, then made a funny face at him in return. Ani smiled brightly, with his whole being, and she swore that she would do everything in her power to make sure that he would continue to smile like that always.
When the young woman glanced up, the man standing on the other side of the counter was frowning. Whether that was because of his surroundings -which he, and his expensive looking clothes, were definitely out of place in- or the outlandish expression on her face, remained to be seen.
And they did look expensive. The gentleman in question wore a charcoal suit and a blue tie, each with familiar names tastefully stitched into them just out of sight. He stood at over 6 ft, with a neatly trimmed beard and a roman nose. He might look like a catwalk escapee, if it wasn't for his over long hair and the sweat gathered on his brow. Broken AC, perhaps?
"Was there something I can do for you?" Shmi asked. She doubted it, but maybe she could point Mr. Tall 'n Handsome in the right direction.
"Yes," he seemed to gather himself, "I fear, I've found myself in need of mechanic." And Shmi did not roll her eyes at his choice of wording. "We seemed to have broken down a couple of blocks from here."
"Seemed to have?" she asked with an amused smile, then, "we?" Could have been the royal "we", but, for the sake of her straight face, she chose to believe otherwise.
"Yes, that is when the car dies, and refuses to go any further, correct?" his face and voice read all innocence, but there was a teasing glint to his eyes. "And we, as in, myself and my son."
At the last part the gentleman seemed to indicate something next to him. The front counter rose to about four and a half feet from the ground, and in so, blocked her view from about the man's lower chest down.
Shmi peaked over the edge of the counter and burst out laughing. This did not seem to amuse the small boy on the other side, who up until that moment had been wearing an open, curious look. She couldn't help it. When she saw the boy there, she had the sudden image of her and Mr. Tall 'n Wordy trying to bluff each other, in the most absurd game of cards.
The young boy pouting up at her couldn't be more than four or five years older than her Ani. He had short-cut red hair, and was wearing what Shmi might call his Sunday best, if she didn't get the distinct impression that was what he normally ran around in. How in the world did he play dressed like that?
Anakin had dismissed them after they had started to talk, going back to his book, something about giant robots from space. When Shmi glance down to her son now, she could see that their conversation, and more than likely her sudden laughter, had recaptured his attention. He was frowning up at her, with a confused pout of his own, to match the other boy's.
"Anakin, why don't you say hello to our guests?" Shmi beamed down at her boy. The pout vanished in an instant.
Ani was a gregarious boy, eager to pounce on and regale anyone he met with whatever passing thought was on his mind. Shmi thought it was endearing, but Watto had scolded him for "talking the ears off" their customers, as he put it. Anakin had eventually stopped greeting them altogether. Where was the fun, if he couldn't show them his team of electronic battle monsters? But now? Now he had permission.
Ani scrambled out and skipped around to the side of the counter. As the two boys assessed each other - the older boy was watching Ani's exuberance with a mild look-, Shmi noticed the boy's father watching her.
"Do you always keep small children stored away beneath the register?"
"Only when we've really fallen behind on paperwork," was her instant rejoinder. That smirk really went great with his eyes.
"This is my son, Anakin," she continued, resting her hands on his shoulders. Ani didn't even notice the grease stains on his mother's fingers, but she would have been terrified to touch either of the other two men, lest she stain their clothes.
The man hunched down to be, well... closer to, eye level with Ani. "Hello, Anakin. My name is Qui-Gon, and his is Obi-Wan."At his name, the other boy stepped forward with a polite smile.
"Hello!" Ani beamed, thrilled by his's actions, delighted to be able to see the, previously towering, man face to face. "You look silly!" he declared with equal jubilation.
Mr. Tall 'n Qui-Gon, apparently, looked a bit like someone had smacked him between the eyes, startled and slightly offended, at that statement. Shmi hid her smile quickly. Oh, Ani... The older boy was giving Anakin a wide eyed look as well.
"Why silly?" the man asked with a smile, and quickly regained equilibrium.
"You're all couched over like a troll!" Anakin explained, like it should be obvious.
Qui-Gon's son -Obi-Wan was it?- was looking between his father and Ani, as the man laughed heartily. It didn't seem to be the reaction the boy was expecting. Perhaps on either of their parts.
"Do trolls crouch down often?" more warm smiles.
"Well, yes. They're quite tall, and how else are they supposed to fit under bridges?" At this the boy paused, and seemed to contemplate his own question with serious thought.
"Trolls aren't real," Obi-Wan supplied helpfully. He was watching Ani with a concerned look.
"I know that!" Anakin embarrassedly huffed, blushing.
"Well," Qui-Gon straightened up, "I do believe the only name I'm missing now, is yours." With that, he was once again addressing Shmi.
The woman became flustered, in any other situation she would have simply brushed him off, but she was still at work, and, apparently, she'd failed to properly introduce herself to one of their customers.
Before she could reply, Ani cut in. "That's Mom!" he supplied helpfully. Obi-Wan frowned at his interruption, hadn't stopped the whole time really, but did not comment.
"Ani, I need to talk to Mr..." she trailed off, waiting for a name to be supplied.
"Qui-Gon will do fine."
"Mr.Qui-Gon and I need to talk about his car. Why don't you show Obi-Wan your new book?" at the mention of his name, the older boy looked up at Shmi with a surprised look, like, perhaps, he didn't think she'd have remembered his name.
"Okay!" Her boy ran back around the counter to grab his treasure, before tugging Obi-Wan towards the front of the office. The older boy gave is father a pleading look, before letting himself get dragged off. The boys could briefly be heard arguing -Obi-Wan was not going to sit on the floor- before they settled down.
"Right. Where did you say that you had broken down at?" asked Shmi as she made her way over to one of the office phones. "I can call a tow truck and see if they can bring it to the shop. Or if there's another place you'd prefer?"
Qui-Gon had silently followed behind her as she spoke. When she looked up, he was patiently staring at her. Was she supposed to be able to read minds now?
"You still haven't given me a name," he informed her. "Unless, of course, you would prefer I call you Mom as well?" he didn't quite manage to keep a straight face and was smiling by the end of the question.
"Oh!" it was such a simple thing, and it had drug on for far too long now. "Shmi, my name is Shmi."
"It's a pleasure meet you Shmi." The smile never left his face.