#also I don't know what day of the 1996 convention the Macarena happened but

[coruscantrhapsody]

Your prompt is: Anakin and Padme are delegates who meet at the 1990s DNC where they do the Macarena.

THANKS FOR THE PROMPT, BESTIE.

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Padme craned her neck, struggling to see past her fellow Wisconsin delegates to the rafters a few rows below, where Team California (along with everyone else in the room, herself included) was engaged in a rousing, impromptu performance of the Macarena.

As she sashayed left and swayed right, hands on her shoulders, her hips, Padme silently thanked the Democratic National Convention gods that her nieces had taught her the popular dance a few months prior. She was already one of the youngest members of the Wisconsin State Senate, and had a reputation for being a little too studious around the edges, to boot (a characterization the connotations of which she felt were unfair - didn't people want their representatives to approach their work with the utmost seriousness of purpose?) She would have died if she'd flubbed the dance of the year, and at the convention, to boot. She grimaced, imagining the headlines in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel: "Wisconsin's Youngest Senator is Anything But Hip."

Frowning, she pushed the thought away and resumed her scan of the rafters below, all while staying on beat. (Take that, Imaginary Milwaukee Journal Sentinel Reporter And Your Made-up Hit Piece!) Suddenly, a head of short brunette hair came into view. Oh my god oh my god oh my god was that - ? Yes, it had to be -

"Oof!"

Suddenly, without realizing what was happening, Padme felt herself falling, falling, falling, no, she was upright, a hand was lifting her up by the arm, a hand which was attached to a guy whom she belatedly realized had barreled into her moments before.

"I am so sorry," the man began, looking absolutely mortified. Regaining her footing, Padme noticed that the man was wearing a light pink dress shirt and a mauve tie with beakers and other science lab accoutrements on it. She smiled, oddly charmed.

"It's alright. I should have been paying more attention." (Ever the diplomat.)

"No, it was all me. I'm not even supposed to be up here. I'm from the Arizona delegation. But I was just - I thought you had a good view of the California delegation from up here, and I just wanted to see if I could spot -"

"Nancy Pelosi," the man finished as Padme uttered the same name. They stared at each other. "Big fan?" the man asked, a small smile playing at the edges of his mouth. The thought came unbidden to Padme's head that it was rather a *nice* smile. And he had also been searching for her political hero at the same time? Who was this guy?

"I really admire her work combatting HIV/AIDS in the 80's," Padme explained. A concise and accurate answer that avoided getting into the fact that she also maybe currently had her picture framed on the wall of her bedroom and her office.

"She did great work," the man agreed. He paused then, and Padme got the distinct feeling that she was about to forget all about her quest to spot her hero. There'd be opportunities later; it was only the first day of the convention, after all.

"I'm Padme," she said, extending her hand before she could think the better of it. "Do you maybe ... want to grab coffee tomorrow? Before the festivities start?"

"That sounds amazing," the man answered, grinning entirely too silly, Padme thought, for someone he had just met. She liked his smile. She hoped she would have cause to see it over and over again, and then some more.

The man took her proffered hand. "I'm Anakin. Anakin Skywalker."