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friskynotebook · 1 year

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You Make It Feel Like Christmas

An Obidala Hallmark Christmas movie rewrite!

CW: age gap, food, grief, death of a loved one

Summary: Padme Amidala is a Martha Stewart-type TV personality. Obi-Wan Kenobi is a widowed veterinarian. When Padme gets into a car accident on the way to her Christmas vacation, Obi-Wan and his adorable children nurse her back to health—and help her fall in love. A rewrite of the Hallmark Christmas movie "A Christmas to Remember."

Here it is! My first Obidala Hallmark Christmas movie rewrite! I hope you all like it.

The title is from the Neil Diamond Christmas song of the same name ✨ You can listen to it here.

Also on AO3!

“How does this outfit look?”

Padme Amidala was frantically tugging at her cream-colored v-neck sweater and adjusting the bow on her blue skirt as she walked down to her kitchen set.

“It looks gorgeous,” Mon Mothma, her executive producer, reassured her. “You’re beautiful.”

“Are you sure? Because I was reading the comments—”

“Padme,” Mon sighed.

“I know, but I saw Hannah from Duluth say I looked too New York in the last episode! Too New York! Do I really look too New York?”

“No, you don’t,” Mon said. “This is exactly why I tell you to not read the comments—”

“Because I want to look fashion forward but also approachable for the Midwest—am I approachable for the Midwest?” Padme reached over to a tray of hors d’oeuvres being carried by a production assistant and sampled one. “Just a little more paprika.”

“You’re very approachable,” Mon replied. “The outfit is perfect.”

“Because this is what I’d imagine someone wearing to go to maybe an office Christmas party—you know, the silver bells vibe, icicles and winter wonderland and all that.”

“That’s exactly how it looks—you look like Elsa hosting a dinner party.”

Padme gave her best friend a look. “That wasn’t exactly what I was going for, Mon.”

“But it’s probably what those viewers in the Midwest want to see.”

Padme was about to reply when she spotted the Christmas tree on the set. “Oh, no!”

“Oh no what?” Mon asked, looking over. She waved at the set decorator, Quarsh Panaka, who rushed over.

“What’s wrong, Padme?” he asked. “You don’t look happy.”

“It’s just . . . the tree. It looks nice but so sad! And it looks like it’s dying at the bottom?” Padme peered down at the wilting stems.

“Okay, can we get someone to cheer up this tree?” Quarsh asked the assistants around them.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Padme stopped an assistant wheeling over a giant gingerbread Empire State Building she had made earlier that day. “Why are there Hot Wheels at the bottom?”

“. . . Because it’s the Empire State Building? In New York City?” Dorme, the assistant, said.

“But the scale is all wrong! The cars are as tall as the first three floors of the building!” Padme fretted, wringing her hands. “Can we 86 the cars?”

“Sure, no problem,” Dorme said, pushing the cart away.

“Thank you!” Padme called after her. “Great job with everything else!”

Another assistant came by carrying the turkey for Padme’s approval.

“Oh good! Let’s see how it looks—gaaaah!”

As Padme leaned forward to inspect the turkey, the assistant tripped, the turkey landing onto Padme’s shirt before collapsing on the ground.

“Oh my god, I am so, so sorry,” the assistant said as he scrambled to pick up the turkey.

“That was the perfect turkey,” Padme lamented, dabbing water on her sweater.

“Don’t worry, Padme, we have a backup turkey,” Mon said.

“But the backup turkey is not the perfect turkey, Mon!” Padme pinched the bridge of her nose, trying not to freak out. “And what about my sweater?”

“We have a backup sweater,” Mon reassured her as a wardrobe assistant came out with an identical sweater.

“A backup turkey and a backup sweater. Perfect,” Padme sighed, following the wardrobe assistant to get changed.

“Mmm, that turkey looks so delicious,” Padme said, setting the turkey down on the perfectly decorated Christmas table.

She turned towards the camera. “Thank you so much for joining me on my Christmas special. I’m Padme Amidala and from all of us at Home Style, we wish you a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I hope it’s one to remember.”

“ . . . And we’re clear!” the director called.

“That was fabulous, Padme. Congratulations!” Mon beamed, walking with Padme away from the set.

“Thanks, Mon, but was it special enough for Christmas?” Padme asked.

“Of course it is,” Mon soothed. “Nobody does Christmas like you. And with your feature in Good Housekeeping coming out soon, everyone will know who Padme Amidala is.”

“So no pressure, is what you’re saying?” Padme teased, a sparkle in her eye.

Mon laughed. “Come, let’s have a cup of tea and unwind before we go.”

Mon led Padme to her office to fix them tea while Padme tried to calm herself down. Sure, the special seemed to go over well, but she was on the precipice of a career explosion—it had to be perfect, and Padme wasn’t sure the special met her sky-high expectations.

Mon set a cup of chocolate chili chai in front of her. “You seem on edge, Padme. Why don’t you come to my party tonight?” she suggested, sitting down on the couch next to her. “You can bring Anakin!”

Padme smiled and looked away. “Come on, Mon.”

“I know Anakin Skywalker isn’t your ideal man,” Mon said. “But he is a popular sportscaster and if you’re seen with him—especially at my party—it’ll help build your brand. It’s a good career move!”

Padme stopped herself from rolling her eyes. She knew Mon meant well and she wasn’t wrong by any means. But she hated feeling like her romantic life was part of her brand. She wasn’t just a TV personality—she was a person who, someday, wanted to fall in love and be happy without worrying about what it meant for her career.

Sure, Anakin was fine, but there was no spark there—if it wasn’t for her brand, she probably wouldn’t have gone on the second date.

“I think me and my brand are just going to spend the night at home soaking in the tub, curled up with a good book.” Padme deflected.

Mon sighed. “Look, I know your feelings about the holidays.”

Padme frowned. “What do you mean?”

“They’re hard on you.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Padme scoffed. “I just made an entire special devoted to Christmas!”

Mon raised her brow. “That doesn’t mean the holidays aren’t a tough period for you. You always get so stressed around this time of year.”

Trust your best friend to see right through your bullshit. Without really meaning to, Padme knew Mon had gotten to the heart of the issue.

Padme sighed. “To be honest, my mom was the one who really made Christmas special—she made me fall in love with all that magic. She’s probably the reason I got into all this in the first place . . .”

Mon placed a hand on Padme’s arm, waiting for her to continue.

“Since she’s been gone . . . Christmas hasn’t really been the same. No matter how hard I try, it never feels just right.” She shrugged. “Maybe that’s why I’m so stressed with this special—I want it to feel like Christmas with my mom. I want it to be something she’d be proud of.”

“I obviously didn’t know your mother as well as you did,” Mon began. “But I know in my heart, without a doubt, she’d be so proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished.”

Padme blinked back tears and squeezed Mon’s hand. “Thank you, Mon.”

After a beat, Mon continued. “I have a proposal for you.”

Padme raised a brow. “Oh?”

“If you come to my party, I promise you won’t have to do anything for a whole week.”

“A week? I’m listening.”

“I have the most gorgeous, peaceful chalet near Aspen. Go there. Relax, unwind. It’s by some of the most gorgeous hiking trails you can imagine,” Mon exclaimed.

Padme scoffed. “When have you ever known me to be a hiker, Mon?”

“It’s also near one of the best spas in Colorado,” Mon continued.

“I do love a good spa . . .”

“I know you do! Sometimes, all you need is to get away and recharge your batteries.”

Padme considered the offer, then smiled. “You know what? I think I’ll take you up on that. Thank you so much, Mon.” She reached over for a hug.

Mon squeezed her back. “Of course, Padme. It’s the least I can do . . . Now come to my party and bring Anakin!”

Padme chuckled and stood up. “Well I guess I have to now.”

“Yes, you do!”

Just outside Aspen, in the small town of Salida, Colorado, Dr. Obi-Wan Kenobi was driving his truck down the main drag, on his way to a house call.

The lights look beautiful at this time of year. There was nothing quite like Salida’s Christmas lights twinkling on the streetlamps, even on an overcast day like today. Not for the first time, he was thankful Qui-Gon Jinn had convinced him and Satine to move with him to Colorado from their home in England.

Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, he pulled into Adi Gallia’s driveway, stepping out of his truck and knocking at her door.

Adi answered quickly. “Dr. Kenobi, thank you so much. Katy just doesn’t seem . . . herself.”

“Hmm,” Obi-Wan murmured, stroking his beard. “Well, let’s take a look at our little patient.” He stepped inside and approached one of Adi’s living room chairs.

Adi sighed. “I guess I’m just a nervous mom . . .”

Obi-Wan crouched down in front of the long-haired cat and gently stroked her fur with the back of his hand. “Hello there, sweetheart . . . Feeling alright? Let’s take a look . . .”

“A little rest is all she needs,” Obi-Wan reassured her as Adi handed him a cup of tea. “Katy is going to be just fine.”

“Oh, thank you, Dr. Kenobi,” she said, settling down with Katy. “How are your kids doing?”

“Good, good. Korkie is reading every book he can get his hands on. Luke wants to be a vet, just like me.” He blushed, looking down at his tea. “And Leia is . . . Leia.” He chuckled.

“Have you decided what you wanted to do with your practice?”

“Well, I have my eye on a spot in town where I’m thinking about setting up my office,” he replied.

“What about the barn where your wife kept her horses?” Adi asked. “It’s such a beautiful old building.”

Obi-Wan gazed out the window, lost in thought. “Yes, it is . . . I’m just . . . not sure I’m ready yet.”

He cleared his throat. “Thank you so much for the tea, Adi, but I really must be going, I have a few more house calls to make.”

Adi started to stand as he did. “Please, don’t get up,” he said. “I can show myself out.”

“What do I owe you for today?”

Obi-Wan smiled. “No charge—It’s Christmas.”

“Wait, you’re going to Colorado?” Anakin asked, incredulous. He grabbed his drink from the bar set-up in Mon’s apartment. “I thought we’d hit up all the network parties here in New York.”

Padme sighed. “I’m sorry, Anakin, but when Mon offered her chalet to me—it seemed like too good an offer to pass up. Besides, I work 51 weeks out of the year—if I don’t get away now, when else can I?”

“I understand,” Anakin pouted, sipping his drink. “But don’t take too long—we’d be unstoppable.”

Padme swallowed, not quite sure how to respond.

Fortunately, she was saved from replying when Mon approached them both. “Honey, you look gorgeous!” Mon exclaimed. “And Anakin, you look as handsome as ever.”

“Milady.” Anakin tipped his drink towards Mon.

“Mon, this party is wonderful and you look stunning,” Padme beamed, squeezing her friend’s arm.

“Anakin, may I borrow Padme for a bit?”

“Only for a little while,” Anakin grinned.

“Let me introduce you to the network president,” Mon said, leading Padme to the opposite end of the room.

Mon came back into the kitchen after escorting the last guest out. “Padme! What are you doing?”

Padme put the last glass in the dishwasher. “I’m cleaning your kitchen! You’ve got so many dishes here—you can’t do it all yourself.”

“Which is why I have a cleaning service coming in the morning,” Mon replied. “Stop cleaning! As of right now, you’re officially on vacation.”

Padme flopped down in a chair. “Ugh, Christmas is so much work. It never felt that way when it was just me and my mom.”

Mon poured her a glass of wine and sat down on the couch. “Maybe that was because you were a child and didn’t have to do anything?” she teased.

Padme chuckled. “No, it isn’t just that . . . I remember this one Christmas when my mom made me this special dress because I was playing an angel in the Christmas pageant at school, and it was all sparkly and glowing and almost iridescent.”

She sighed. “I loved it so much, I didn’t want to take it off, even after we got home, so my mom let me fall asleep on the couch, waiting for Santa, and I fell asleep to the sound of Christmas music playing, with gingerbread wafting through the air and the feeling of her hand stroking my hair as I drifted off.”

Mon swallowed. “Your mother was very special.”

Padme nodded. “She was.”

“Maybe this break is exactly what you need—a way to make Christmas feel like it used to. Simple and magical, yet also perfect.”

Padme smiled softly. “I think you’re right.”

That evening, Obi-Wan found himself sitting in a local restaurant across from Siri Tachi, city hall’s office administrator, on what most people would consider a date.

To Obi-Wan, it felt more like forced confinement.

Still, he was a gentleman through and through and was trying his best to have a good time.

“This is nice,” Siri said.

Obi-Wan offered what he hoped was a believable smile and sipped his wine. “Yes. It is.”

“You know,” Siri began. “I just can’t believe we’ve never been on a date before.”

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. “Oh?”

“Because, you know, I’ve always had a huge crush on you.”

He choked on his wine. “I, um. Definitely didn’t know that.”

“Oh come on! I thought I was being obvious!” Siri chuckled. “Of course, you were with your wife and then she . . .”

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, glancing down at his plate.

“God, I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t even know why I brought that up.”

He mustered up a small yet genuine smile. “It’s alright. It happens.”

“So, how’s your—”

“Is that salad any—”

They stopped and shared an awkward laugh.

“Please, go ahead,” Obi-Wan said.

“How’s the burger?” Siri asked.

“It’s, it’s good. How’s the . . . is that tofu?”

“Did you want some? You should try some!” she exclaimed, gathering a forkful of the overcooked tofu. “It’s delicious.”

“Oh, no, that’s alright,” he brushed her off, reaching for his glass of wine again.

“I insist!” Siri brought the fork closer to his mouth.”

“Really, I’m not much of a tofu person,” Obi-Wan continued, backing away slightly.

“Come on!” she said, inching closer.

“Well, alright,” he agreed, bracing himself.

She shoved the forkful of tofu into his mouth—he’s had good tofu before, but this tofu was mushy and overdone and downright nasty. He choked it down as best he could.

“It’s . . .” Obi-Wan swallowed. “It has an . . . interesting consistency.”

Siri set the fork down and picked up her glass, sighing.

Whenever Obi-Wan arrived home after dark, he always made a point to check in on his children.

He crept into the twins’ rooms first, kissing Leia on the forehead and settling Luke back into his bed and under the warm covers.

“Shh, shh,” he cooed when Luke started to stir. “Go back to sleep, dear one.”

When he opened Korkie’s door, he wasn’t surprised by what he saw.

“Guess who should be asleep and not reading . . .” His words were tempered by the soft grin spreading across his face.

“I just want to finish this last chapter, Dad,” Korkie whined playfully.

“Well, that chapter is going to have to wait until the morning.” Obi-Wan approached the bed, reaching for the novel in his son’s hands. “You’ll have to be in suspense all night long.”

Korkie pouted but handed the book over.

“Light off, please.”

Korkie took off his flashlight headband and handed that over to his dad.

Obi-Wan set them to the side, then tucked him in, making sure the blankets were secure around his shoulders.

“Night-night, my bookworm boy,” he said, pressing a kiss to Korkie’s temple.

Korkie smiled and closed his eyes. “Night, Dad.”

Obi-Wan wandered back into the kitchen, almost tripping over their little dog, Lola.

“You don’t know how to run a dishwasher?” he asked, glancing at the pots and pans littering the countertops.

Qui-Gon chuckled. “I watched the children and cooked for them tonight—isn’t that enough?”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “I suppose you’ve done your duty.” He started loading the dishwasher as Qui-Gon fixed himself another plate of beef stroganoff.

When Obi-Wan finished, he and Qui-Gon settled in for their regular evening game of backgammon.

“Double sixes! Again!” Obi-Wan exclaimed.

“I swear, it’s like you have a gift for this game.” Qui-Gon shook his head and took another bite of the stroganoff.

“If you’re jealous, Qui-Gon, just say so.” Obi-Wan made his move on the board.

“So, how did it go with what’s-her-name?” Qui-Gon asked around his food.

“Siri?” Obi-Wan stroked his beard. “Well, she force-fed me tofu.”

Qui-Gon wrinkled his nose. “Ew.”

Obi-Wan turned back to the board. “It just wasn’t a good fit. I don’t really like being set up anyways.”

Qui-Gon took another bite, sensing Obi-Wan hadn’t finished.

Obi-Wan leaned back, stroking his beard again. “To tell you the truth,” he began, “I think these things should happen naturally. Organically . . . Like two pieces of a puzzle coming together.”

“It’ll feel right,” Qui-Gon supplied.

Obi-Wan smiled and turned his focus back to the game. “Exactly.”

“God, I can’t see anything on these roads,” Padme lamented, driving her rented sedan down a remote Colorado road. “Why didn’t they have any SUVs left at the airport?”

She gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying valiantly to keep the car driving in a straight line.

At the Lars’ farm on the outskirts of town, Obi-Wan packed his medical bag as Luke watched on in awe. Obi-Wan stood, petting the horse and kissing her muzzle.

“What did you think? Pretty amazing, right?” he asked his son.

“Yeah, it was!” Luke exclaimed as Obi-Wan put an arm around him. “She’s gonna be okay.”

“Yes, she will.”

“And the foal?” Luke asked.

Obi-Wan squeezed his shoulder. “She knows exactly what to do. They’re both going to be just fine, darling, don’t you worry.”

“I was pretty worried before your dad got here,” Owen Lars teased. “And when I saw he brought you, I knew Betsy was in good hands.”

Luke giggled, leaning against his father.

“Hey, Obi-Wan, can I talk to you for a minute?” Owen asked, turning to Obi-Wan.

“Why don’t you head to the truck, Luke? I’ll be there in a second.”

“Okay!” Luke ran off.

Owen sighed, then met Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Look, I hate to do this to you, but . . . We’re a little bit short right now—”

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. “Owen, don’t worry about it.” He placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s the holidays.”

“I’ll settle up with you in the new year,” Owen promised.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Thank you, Obi-Wan.” Owen offered him his hand.

Obi-Wan shook it. “Anytime, Owen.”

“In the meantime, you have to take home one of Beru’s apple pies. They’re the best in the county for a reason.”

Obi-Wan grinned. “We would love that.”

Padme slapped the radio off after Mariah Carey played for the fourth time that hour.

“I can’t hear myself think,” she muttered, focusing on the road.

“Wait a minute.” She narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t right—I’m going the wrong way.

Padme reached for her phone, trying to find Waze. “What do you mean no signal?! Damn it!”

She threw her phone into the seat next to her and looked up—only to see a deer standing in the middle of the road.

“Oh!”

She turned the wheel hard and skidded on black ice, crashing into a snowbank and down a small hill.

No-pressure tags: @obiknights @your-dose-of-obidala @cypanache @celestial-alignment @alabama-metal-man @heyhawtdawgs

#obidala #obi wan x padme #obi-wan kenobi x padme amidala #obi wan kenobi #padme amidala #my fic #my writing

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