Saga - ST Beyond the Saga The Great Poldopalooza | Post-TLJ AU, Poe/Holdo | A collaborative series by Team Pentasweets

The Great Poldopalooza​

This thread is a series of one-shots and ficlets about the new pairing/crack!ship/OTP brodiew came up with, namely Poe/Holdo i.e. Poldo. It started out with a request for the TLJ Betting Pool, but all indications are that it's out of control now... so we'll be adding more stories here as we go along. And by "we" I mean brodiew and myself, but also anyone from Team Pentasweets who feels like jumping in.

I'll update the thread title when that particular board glitch is fixed, but until then, here's a table of contents:

1. The Wooing of a Flyboy (this post) by Chyntuck
2. Short of Breath by brodiew
3. What is This, Really? by brodiew – Part 1 & Part 2
4. Beginnings, Middles & Ends by brodiew (drabble set)
5. <<Courtship>> by Chyntuck
6. The Upside of Official Functions by WarmNyota_SweetAyesha
7. With Another Burning Bright by Mira_Jade (week 18 in the She Says in Parenthesis UDC VIII thread)
8. Fist, Hair, Knee & Eyes by brodiew (drabbles & ficlets)
​

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Title: The Wooing of a Flyboy
Timeframe: Just after TLJ
Continuity: New Canon AU
Length: One-shot
Genre: Humour and crack!ship are the words I’m looking for, but there’s a very drahmatic Leia introspection viggie included in this story
Characters: Poe, Holdo, the rest of the Millennium Falcon’s passengers after the evacuation of Crait
Notes:
This story is a fic-gift for @brodiew, with whom I had a bet in the TLJ Betting Pool. He wagered that Kylo would turn back to the light in TLJ, I wagered that Kylo wouldn’t turn and that he’d be responsible for a major hero death, and we both lost. Brodiew’s request was one of the three options behind the spoiler tag below; I went primarily with the first one but managed to fit all three (or at least elements of all three) in this story.

Spoiler

1. Holdo does not die in TLJ. Though initially put off by Poe's aggressiveness, she sees his leadership potential and decides to personally take him under her wing (so to speak). A crack!ship is born!
2. Finn and Rey enjoy lunch together discussing their sibling bond and relaying their TLJ stories.
3. Leia ruminates on what she saw between Luke and Kylo on Crait.

This story is also my entry for the Sea Shanty Challenge; the song I got is Pirates Who Don’t Do Anything. Lyrics here and video behind the spoiler tag.

Spoiler

The Wooing of a Flyboy

As soon as Bright Cub signalled that everyone was safely on board, Chewbacca lifted the Millennium Falcon off her landing skids and pointed her nose towards the sky. The First Order fleet was severely crippled after Vice-Admiral Holdo had launched the Raddus into lightspeed straight across the Supremacy, but the Wookiee couldn’t exclude the possibility that reinforcements were on the way. Furthermore, the Falcon now carried what was left of the Resistance and she had sustained some damage during her run through Crait’s crystal tunnels. Chewie didn’t want to take any chances. The Furless One would forgive him – eventually – for smashing the gunner station’s transparisteel bubble, but if Leia ever fell into the hands of the First Order he would never hear the end of it when they met again in the Great Hunting Grounds of the Netherworld.

Behind him, Artoo-Deetoo chirped to indicate that the navicomputer had completed its calculations. The nearest jump point was straight ahead, past a field of debris. Manoeuvring through it would delay them a little, but the presence of so much space junk would also allow them to power down and hide if need be. Furthermore, as the astromech pointed out, it would prevent any First Order ships lurking in the area from securing a tracker lock on them. Without hesitation, Chewbacca tilted the Falcon to starboard and slipped her between two hulking chunks of what had been the hull of a Star Destroyer, eliciting screams of terror from the Porgs that had claimed the cockpit as a nesting ground. The Wookiee ignored them and continued negotiating his way through the clutter, skimming past the larger pieces to keep the freighter’s presence as inconspicuous as possible. The avians would just have to get used to it, now that, for better or for worse, they were part of the Resistance.

The Falcon had nearly cleared the floating junkyard and Chewbacca and Artoo were preparing to jump to hyperspace when the communications console pinged. There was someone out there, someone who was broadcasting a distress signal on the Resistance’s secret frequency. Artoo rotated his data interface rod in its outlet to activate the sensors, and there it was on the scopes: a lone lifeform tumbling through space as the wafting debris bounced it around. The Wookiee spun the ship to port to get a visual, and he let out a deafening roar.

* * *​

Poe was introducing himself to Rey when a furious howl in Shyriiwook was heard over the hubbub of the main hold, summoning ‘Bright Cub’ to the cockpit. He gave the young woman a curious look.

“That’s how he calls me,” she said with an embarrassed shrug.

Poe grinned. “It suits you.”

He followed her down the narrow corridor. Artoo was twittering and gyrating excitedly while Chewbacca was trying to keep a Porg out of his line of sight. As soon as the Wookiee heard them stomp in, he pointed at a small, rounded object that was floating outside the viewport – an object emblazoned with the Rebel Starbird whose shape was all too familiar to anyone who had served aboard the Raddus – and started barking orders.

[I’m bringing us under it. Bright Cub, take the tractor beam. Brash Cub, get ready to open the top hatch.]

The sight of the escape pod left Poe slack-jawed. “Brash Cub?” he asked distractedly.

Rey grinned as she started busying herself with the controls. “It suits you.”

The young pilot was still trying to process his thoughts when Chewbacca glared at him over his shoulder. [I spoke, Brash Cub,] he growled sternly. [Now go.]

Poe pulled himself together. He jogged back across the corridor to the main hold and into the passageway from where he would access the vertical tube that led to the top hatch. His mind was racing as the platform rose, carrying him upwards. The most likely explanation was that a short-circuit had released the pod just before the jump to hyperspace, but Artoo had tooted something about a lifeform. Did someone stay behind with Holdo on the Raddus after the evacuation was complete? Poe had been stunned when he’d been loaded on his transport, and then things happened so fast that there hadn’t been time to ask, but –

A bump against the Falcon’s hull signalled that she’d made contact with the escape pod, and moments later the control panel flashed green, indicating that the magnetic lock was sealed. Poe verified that the pod was pressurised and engaged the hatch release mechanism, blaster at the ready in case it was a trap. A somewhat dishevelled bob of purple hair appeared in the opening.

His jaw dropped.

“Holdo?”

The vice-admiral hopped gracefully into the access tube and smoothed the folds of her dress. Her face was millimetres away from Poe’s.

“Flyboy.”

* * *​

Leia was exhausted – physically, psychologically and emotionally exhausted. Organising the Resistance’s last stand against the First Order after awakening from her coma had taken its toll, and the mad dash to safety through the crystal mines of Crait had drained what little energy she had left. She’d been barely hobbling along when Rey lifted the pile of boulders blocking the exit of the gallery, and even now her mind was still racing with thoughts of the confrontation that had taken place elsewhere on the planet – the confrontation between her son and her brother, between darkness and light, between two men whom she loved more than anything, yet one was gone forever while the other was not truly there.

No one’s ever really gone.

She’d had to repeat Luke’s words to herself when she sensed him fading in the Force as she prepared to board the Falcon. There was such a disturbing irony to the fact that he had not fallen to the walkers’ bombardment or to Kylo Ren’s blows, but to his own mastery of the Force. Yet after such a display of power, how could she believe that she wouldn’t see him again? If he could speak to her, hug her and fight for her while remaining halfway across the galaxy, surely death was merely another challenge to overcome. He would be there for her when she needed him, and he would haunt Kylo Ren for the remainder of his mortal life.

Kylo Ren. Ben.

No one’s ever really gone.

For a moment she wondered if Luke had truly meant it, or if it was intended to be a comforting lie, or even one of his infuriating ‘from a certain point of view’ aphorisms. The boy she had raised – a boy who was kind, loving and caring – was gone forever, replaced by a man whose soul was as black as coal. She’d heard through the Force every word he told his lieutenants as the First Order’s army marched on Crait – a shiver ran down her spine at the memory of the cold tone in which he’d uttered: “no mercy, no prisoners” – and she had experienced every second of his tantrum once Luke appeared. The fury, the loathing, the boiling hatred as laser bolts rained on the lone figure that had come out to confront him; the rancour when the Jedi emerged unscathed; the need, the overwhelming drive to see him destroyed, vaporized, annihilated. The frenzy of madness and wrath when he understood that Luke had been toying with him, that he had been played, and that the Resistance – the girl – had escaped. She didn’t sense this time the hesitation that had stayed his hand during the space battle after the Raddus’s first jump upon leaving D’Qar. He had come to Crait drunk on his newfound power as the First Order’s heir apparent, fiercely determined to kill them all.

She wished there was someone she could talk to. The Resistance’s survivors were among the best people she knew; but, for all their dedication to the cause, most were young and inexperienced. She’d had to put up a cheerful front as they all celebrated the fact that they were still alive, and they’d been more than understanding when she retreated to the passenger cabin to rest. But now, she was alone with her thoughts, and there was no one to share her sorrow save for a lone Porg perched on the top of the closet that was staring at her with big, sad eyes.

How she missed Amilyn. They had known each other since they were teenagers, and shortly after meeting each other they’d become sisters-in-arms. Amilyn Holdo had always been a little eccentric, but she was a woman of principles and a faithful friend. It took some work to understand her, and her mind operated in mysterious ways, but her kind heart and her devotion to the ideals of the Republic had always made her one of Leia’s closest, most trusted friends and allies.

No one’s ever really gone.

Amilyn Holdo may have given her life to protect the last of the Resistance, and Leia would mourn her passing, but her legacy lived on. The Resistance would ultimately restore peace and justice to the galaxy. Until then, Leia would seek comfort in imagining her quirky friend’s thoughts. She was trying to fathom Amilyn’s reaction to the showdown between Luke and Ben, when she heard a commotion in the main hold. Moments later, there was the shuffle of feet in the hallway and someone was knocking on her cabin’s door.

* * *​

Amilyn Holdo burst out laughing so hard that it took her a moment to catch her breath. Leia’s eyes were as wide as saucers and it wasn’t until the vice-admiral took her hand and pinched it that she managed to bring her jaw to shut.

“Yes, Ma’am, it’s me. I’m not pulling a Luke on you. I’m real.” She stepped into the cabin, closing the door behind her.

“How?” Leia finally uttered.

“I jury-rigged the hyperspace commands so that they would activate when my escape pod detached from the Raddus. My navigation systems took some damage in the process and I was left spinning in space, but I was able to enjoy some of the show through the porthole. It was spectacular.”

“It was,” Leia said with a wry smile. “Just don’t do it again.”

The two women erupted into a fit of giggles and fell into each other’s arms. “It’s good to have you back, Amilyn,” Leia said when they finally stepped back from the embrace.

“It’s good to be back among the living as well.” Holdo gave her friend a concerned look. “How are you holding up?”

Leia’s defenses came back up immediately. “I’m managing.”

The vice-admiral wasn’t impressed. “This is the moment when you are supposed to break down and cry, Leia. I’ve known you for nearly forty years and I never saw you cry. You always choke back your feelings to put up a strong façade. And I understand why you do this in public; you were always a leader. But this is not one of these times. After all these years, after the losses you suffered these past few days… you’re in private with a friend right now. You can allow yourself to let go.”

“I can’t let go, Amilyn,” Leia said softly. “If I do so – especially now – I’ll never be able to put myself together again.”

“Poodoo. The day Leia Organa can’t put herself together is the day I reveal I’m Jabba the Hutt.” She planted herself in front of the mirror and pushed aside the Porg that had fluttered there to rearrange her hair and smoothe the creases of her dress. “And you know me. Even if it were true, I’d never admit to such a thing.” She gave the Alderaanian a sideways look.

Leia chortled. “Why am I under the impression that you’re trying to cheer me up rather than make me cry, Admiral?”

Holdo strode across the small cabin and perched herself on the edge of the bunk. “I’m afraid it’s not ‘admiral’ anymore, General,” she said airily. “Neither should you be a general, for that matter. We’ve been in this fight for far too long, and life is far too short. It’s time for us to retire.”

Leia could barely hide her dismay. “What about the First Order? Who will lead the Resistance?”

“They have Flyboy for that. Unless I misinterpreted what I saw on my way here, he learned his lesson after you evacuated the Raddus. He’s smart, he’s strong, he’s charismatic. They’ll follow him to the end. He’s the leader they need.” She paused and smiled before adding, “And he’s handsome, too. I like him, you know.”

She paused again and winked. “I think I’m repeating myself. I might have mentioned that already.”

There was a silence. “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?” Leia asked finally.

“Not in the least. I think it’s time for younger blood to take over. You and I could stay on in an advisory capacity.”

Leia shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Let’s admit you went ahead with that decision… What are you going to do?”

“Oh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that. Enjoy being alive, I guess.”

There was another, longer silence. Holdo stood up and returned to the mirror. She tucked a stray lock behind her ear and ran her thumb over her eyebrows. “Now, since you seem rather determined not to cry... if you’ll forgive me, I’m going to have a… ahem, friendly chat with Poe.”

The credit finally dropped. “Wait!” Leia said. “When you said you liked him… you meant that you liked him.”

Holdo’s smile widened. “Yes, that is absolutely what I meant. Like I said, life is too short.”

Leia chortled. “You were always one with a particular taste in men.”

Holdo palmed the door’s opening panel. “Every young lady out there will tell you that there’s nothing particular in my taste for this one. Now, are you going to stay here and wallow in your thoughts, or are you coming along to enjoy the show?”

Leia grinned and rose to her feet. “I’m coming for the show, if course. It promises to be quite spectacular once more. I wouldn’t miss it for a Republic.”

* * *​

The survivors’ excited chatter was in full swing in the main hold, with Porgs fluttering over Poe’s head as he explained for the umpteenth time how the vice-admiral had managed to escape the Raddus’s suicide run, when the two older women emerged from the hallway leading to the the passenger compartment. The little group broke out into a round of applause and Holdo took a bow. Rey noticed that even Leia appeared to be cheerful; she’d heard a lot about the general’s unfailing perseverance in the face of adversity and, seeing her now, she had to give it to her: Leia was tough as nails. Rey got up from her spot near Nien Nunb to make space for the Alderaanian princess and, under the guidance of the lone medic who’d made it through the evacuation of Crait, she levitated Rose to the cabin. She then returned to the main hold to see that Finn had claimed a section of the couch around the dejarik table, and she settled at his side to catch up with her friend at last.

Finn and Rey hadn’t known each other for long and their adventures had taken them on diverging paths, but deep in her heart Rey knew that, wherever the vagaries of life led them, even if it meant again that they’d be spending more time apart than at each other’s side, Finn had already become an intrinsic part of her being for as long as she lived. This wasn’t only the result of a whim of the Force that chose to bring together a First Order defector and a scavenger who had found herself entrusted with the custody of the precious map to Ahch-To. It had been an encounter between two people who, until then, had always been alone even amidst a crowd, and who, for the first time, were discovering what it meant to care for another who also cared for you. This was not a alliance for survival. It was friendship in the finest sense of the word, and Rey would forever treasure the few, brief moments when she and Finn had learned about it together.

This made Finn the single person with whom she felt comfortable discussing the topic of Luke Skywalker. Her experience on Ahch-To had been harrowing. She hadn’t expected to face such rejection, nor had she come prepared to be challenged at every turn in such a way; and after her eventful journey to the Supremacy, she still needed to process what had actually transpired. She would have to share her thoughts with Leia Organa eventually, but for now she was glad she hadn’t. There was sheer awe in Finn’s voice as he finished his recount of how Luke had magically appeared in the Rebel base on Crait to take on the entire First Order on his own, wielding nothing more than a lightsaber. Rey was already composing in her head the white lie she would tell the Jedi Master’s sister, but Finn was someone she could talk to here and now without fearing that she would cause him pain, or that he would judge her for her failures. She was about to start pouring her heart out when an unlikely pair across the main hold caught her attention.

Now this was… different. She tapped her friend’s knee under the dejarik table and angled her chin towards the scene.

“Do you see what I’m seeing?” she asked in a whisper.

Finn glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. “Yeah, that’s Holdo. You know that we just rescued her, right?”

It hadn’t occurred to her that he was so absorbed in their conversation about Skywalker that he wouldn’t notice that something was afoot. “I know, silly! I worked the tractor beam, remember? Look closer.” She grabbed his hand when she saw that he was about to turn around. “Slowly! Don’t stare. Just look behind you… casually.”

Finn put up a good show of stretching and yawning, and as his head leaned backwards he caught a glimpse of the scene unfolding behind them. He straightened himself abnormally fast. “Is she talking to… Poe?”

Rey grinned. “She has him pinned to the bulkhead.”

“What the…?”

The former stormtrooper seemed to be utterly confused. She leaned closer to whisper in his ear. “I think she’s flirting with him.”

Finn abandoned all pretence at discretion. His head spun around so fast that he very nearly cricked his neck. “Flirting? Ewwwww!”

* * *​

If someone had told Poe Dameron, just twenty-four hours ago, that he would be happy and relieved to see Vice-Admiral Holdo return to her position in the Resistance, he would have summoned the Raddus’s Emdee droids to get that barve trussed up in a straightjacket and locked away in the medbay. And yet, here he was, applauding enthusiastically along with everyone else when Holdo and Leia came to join the rest of the survivors and grinning goofily when the admiral bowed with a self-deprecating smile. There was a lot he had misunderstood about the woman, and the fact that she had a sense of humour was high on that list. On the other hand, the fact that she was now back to her impeccably groomed appearance made him chuckle. Leave it to a lady who had commanded a fleet in a floor-length ballgown to make sure that her hair was combed as soon as she was rescued.

He had to step aside for a moment to make way for Rey and a medic, who were carrying Rose to the passenger bunk, and the hubbub resumed. Finn was now sitting at the dejarik table and, in the excitement of Holdo’s rescue, Poe hadn’t had an opportunity to ask him about the details of his mission to Canto Bight. He was about to go and join his friend when the vice-admiral planted herself in front of him.

“Flyboy.”

Poe straightened himself to a military posture. “Yes, Admiral.”

The purple-haired woman gave him a pained look. “Isn’t it ‘Holdo’ anymore? I thought you liked me.”

Poe was taken aback. “Of course I like you, Admiral,” he spluttered. What the kriff did I just say? “I mean –”

“That’s fine,” Holdo said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I get it, Flyboy. You’re a doer. No time for niceties, it’s back to business already.”

The young pilot pulled himself together. “Admiral, I owe you an apology. And calling you ‘admiral’ is the first step towards that.”

She grinned. “Apology accepted… for the time being. Now go back to calling me Holdo, will you? I’m still calling you Flyboy, you know.” She reached out and pushed a stray strand of hair off his forehead with the tip of her finger. “It suits your haircut.”

What the blazes…? “Okay… Holdo.”

“Tsk, tsk. You’re not saying it right anymore, Flyboy. Where’s the spark you had me used to? It’s ‘Holdo!’, not ‘Okay… Holdo.’” She moved closer to him. “Intimidated?”

Poe took a step back and found himself squeezed against the bulkhead. His heel hit a Porg’s nest, eliciting an angry chirp. “Admiral, I don’t think that –”

She raised an eyebrow. “‘Admiral’ again? How disappointing.” She moved closer once more and whispered in his ear. “I’m not the admiral anymore, Flyboy. I just handed in my resignation. Now I’m going to have a life.”

“WHAT?”

Poe’s yelp caused all eyes to shoot in their direction. He tried to wriggle away from her, but Holdo was entirely unfazed. “Relax, Flyboy. I’ll still be around to give you some advice when you need it, or even” – she tilted her head to the side suggestively – “ to give you a dressing-down.”

Poe blinked. Is she hitting on me? It sounds – looks – feels like she’s hitting on me. Okay then. Challenge accepted. “Tell me more, Holdo,” he said. “Especially about that undr… umm, I mean, that dressing-down.”

* * *​

In one aspect, Finn’s plan was working a little bit too well. In another, it wasn’t working at all.

He’d decided that a diversion was needed to help Poe out of the jam he’d got himself into – what in the galaxy had he done to attract that sort of attention from the admiral anyway? – and, without thinking of it twice, he’d jumped to his feet and whipped up a party.

That was the part that worked a little bit too well.

There had been a rather impressive collection of alcoholic drinks in the Falcon’s galley when Finn shouted that they needed some entertainment. Not anymore. The exhausted Resistance fighters had worked their way through Han Solo’s reserves as if they were no more than aged R’alla mineral water. It was lucky that Kaydel, Pamich and C’ai had collapsed into hiccups before the only booze left was Chewbacca’s cortyg brandy, seeing as the stuff was definitely not fit for non-Wookiee consumption. This, of course, didn’t stop General Organa, Commander D’Acy, Lieutenant Nunb and Major Ematt from dipping their lips in tumblers of the foul-smelling liquid from time to time. Apparently, the old guard couldn’t resist the temptation to show off that they’d had stranger things to drink throughout the years they’d dedicated to restoring peace and justice to the galaxy.

It was probably a side-effect of the brandy that musical instruments had made their appearance at some point, although, in his own mildly inebriated state, Finn couldn’t tell precisely when. It turned out that one of the Falcon’s storage compartments held a Kashyyyk clarion and a sabriquet. Finn assumed that the latter was a heirloom from Han, since it was made of podracer engine parts, and he’d been confident at first that none of those present knew how to play it – he hated the horn’s strident sound with a passion. Alas, the Sullustan pilot started babbling excitedly as soon as he saw it, and within seconds he and the Wookiee engaged in a duet punctuated by the warbles of Porgs with an affinity for wind instruments.

However, all this would have been fine and good, or at least tolerable, if the second part of Finn’s plan was working, and everything indicated that it wasn’t. Poe and Holdo were now sitting together on a crate in the corner of the main hold, so close that their foreheads almost touched, whispering sweet nothings to each other amidst the singing and the babbling as if the rest of the Resistance weren’t there. What made things worse was that Leia kept asking the two musicians to perform songs from the heyday of the Rebellion, and most of those were somber ballads of struggle and death that were entirely unsuited to the sort of raucous party Finn had had in mind.

“Hey, Chewie!” he spluttered as the Wookiee put down his instrument after a particularly mournful tune. “Don’t you have something more upbeat in your repertoire?”

Nien Nunb said something in Sullustan that Finn didn’t understand. Caluan Ematt laughed and ran a hand over his bushy white beard. “I’d almost forgotten about that! There was that one time...”

“... when Han and Caluan were captured by the Empire...” Leia continued.

Larma d’Acy chuckled. “The time when the Imps pumped them full of drugs before the interrogation?”

“You could say that. When we got there to rescue them, Caluan was…”

“High as a kite.” Ematt drained his tumbler of Wookiee brandy in a single gulp.

Holdo tilted her head even closer to Poe’s, and Finn thought for a moment that they would start snogging right there and then while the Rebellion’s veterans were busy on their trip down memory lane. “Oi! What about that song?”

Nien Nunb blew a single, ear-splitting note through the sabriquet, which sent a flight of Porgs seeking refuge towards the ceiling and, Finn noted with great satisfaction, caused Poe and Holdo to jump in fright. Major Ematt helped himself to another drink and staggered to his feet.

“Right. The song. You youngsters listen carefully, it could come in useful if you ever need to answer First Order questions.”

Chewbacca and Nien Nunb played a slightly discordant version of the song’s introduction, a shrill, childish tune that matched the drunken mood prevailing aboard the Falcon. They paused for Ematt to ask, with a perfectly clipped Imperial accent, “Tell us the Rebellion’s plans,” and they resumed the piece of music as he began to sing.

“We’re the rebels who don’t do anything
We just stay at home and lie around
And if you ask us to do anything
We’ll just tell you we don’t do anything.”

The major switched back to his Imperial voice and asked: “Why did you go to Batonn?” before Leia and Larma D’Acy joined him in a chorus.

“Well, I’ve never been to Wayland
And I’ve never been to Denon
And I’ve never hidden weapons in Chyron or Duro
And I’ve never been to Vardos
And I’ve never been to Tamsye
And I’ve never been to Batonn, not at all.”

Poe and Holdo were drifting closer again. “Objection, objection!” Finn shouted. “Admiral Holdo was in Chyron.”

The interruption caused Poe to jolt away from his conversation partner. He gave the former stormtrooper an annoyed look. “Yeah, Amilyn was in the Battle of Chyron Belt. She’s kinda famous for it.”

“Amilyn?!” Finn whispered to Rey over the refrain. “Did he just call the vice-admiral ‘Amilyn’?”

Rey grinned. “I think he did.”

Finn stared at her in dismay. She seemed to be greatly enjoying herself; apparently the budding romance between Poe and Holdo was the best thing since instant polystarch as far as she was concerned. Before he could launch into a rant, Ematt and D’Acy were at it again – this time with dance moves that threatened to throw them off their state of precarious balance.

“And I’ve never jumped to lightspeed
And I’ve never swabbed the ‘fresher
And I’ve never veered to starboard
‘Cause I never fly at all
And I’ve never shot a TIE down
And I’ve never owned a mynock
And I’ve never been to Batonn, not at all.”

Holdo perched herself on the edge of the crate where she was sitting with Poe, turning her back on the assembly and leaning dangerously close to him. “Rey!” Finn whispered urgently. “We have to do something!”

“Well, I’ve never plucked an avian
And I’m not too good at sabacc
And I’ve never thrown my mashed spiced tubers
Up against the wall
And I’ve never kissed a Wookiee
And I’ve never got head symbiotes
And I’ve never been to Batonn, not at all.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Finn hollered over the din, the laughter and the Porgs’ trills. “What does an avian or mashed tubers have to do with being a Rebel?” He shoved an elbow into Rey’s ribs, compelling her to say something.

“That’s right!” Rey improvised. “This is supposed to be a rebel song anyway.”

“And who’s ever kissed a Wookiee? That’s just nonsense, why even bring it up?”

For a fraction of a second Finn thought he’d made a big mistake. Chewbacca’s beady eyes narrowed, and it seemed for a moment that he was about to roar – but he broke out into hearty laughter instead, and Leia erupted into a uncontrollable fit of giggles.

Finn was utterly baffled. “What did I say?”

“That’s another story for another time,” Leia hiccuped, wiping tears from her eyes. She took a sip from her tumbler and gestured towards Major Ematt. The song resumed – or rather the cacophony, as Chewbacca’s musical contribution was still punctuated by bouts of hilarity.

“And I’ve never licked a spark core
And I’ve never sniffed tibanna
And I’ve never painted gundarks
On a big red ISD
And I’ve never bathed in blue milk
And I don’t look good in stun cuffs
And I’ve never been to Batonn, not at all.”

There was more laughter, cheering and applause as the song ended. Artoo-Deetoo and BB-8 beeped and gyrated happily, and only Threepio was standing with his back ramrod straight in a corner, casting a disapproving glare on the scene. Now reassured that he hadn’t offended Chewbacca – he still didn’t feel entirely comfortable around the big, shaggy primate who had, not so long ago, tried to strangle him – Finn returned his attention to the crate where Poe and Holdo had been sitting…

… only to find that a Porg had settled on the spot where they’d been just moments earlier. They were gone.

* * *​

“This is a bit cramped.”

“It’s a circuitry bay, Flyboy. Aboard the Millennium Falcon, no less.”

“Heh. At least it’s quiet.”

“And private.”

Poe grinned and pointed at a Porg that was perching near the ceiling. “Private.”

Holdo brushed her palm over a vertical lever on the wall. “This place has a history though. Did Leia ever tell you?” She shook her head. “No, she obviously wouldn’t have told you. This is where she exchanged her first kiss with Han Solo.”

“Really?”

“Really. It was after the escape from Hoth – all the best stories happen after escapes, don’t they?” She went to pinch his cheek but thought better of it. “Leia told me about it later. She was supposed to evacuate on the same transport as me, but a gallery caved in and she found herself on the Falcon instead.”

Poe snapped his fingers. “I heard about that bit. Hiding on an asteroid, and no hyperdrive.”

“And no hyperdrive, therefore, making emergency repairs. Leia was here, welding these valves, like this” – she positioned the young man to face the wall – “when Han came in to help her – like this.”

Poe shivered at the sensation of Holdo’s arms around him. “I’ll bet she loved that.”

“You know Leia. She probably did, but she’ll never admit it. So she pushed him back” – she spun Poe around again – “and tried to keep her distance, but Han…” She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

Poe grinned again. “Han wouldn’t have any of it.”

“I see we’re on the same frequency, Flyboy. So he took her hand and started rubbing it, like this” – she twined her fingers in his as she moved closer – “and then he leaned in to kiss her, like this...”

Their lips were millimetres away from each other when Poe caught a glimpse of coppery gold over Holdo’s shoulder, and a prissy voice suddenly broke the silence.

“Admiral Holdo! Admiral Holdo! Thank goodness! We are all looking for you. Chewbacca would like you to know that we are reverting to realspace.”

--------------------------------

Wookieepedia links
Characters: Kaydel Ko Connix – Pamich Nerro Goode – C’ai Threnalli – Larma D’Acy – Caluan Ematt
Planets: Batonn – Wayland – Denon – Duro – Vardos – Tamsye Prime
Other: Battle of Chyron Belt – Cortyg brandy – Kashyyyk clarion – Sabriquet – Polystarch – R’alla mineral water

 

This is a masterpiece! Pure and Simple. Yes, I Am CAPITALIZING! It's late and this is so freaking awesome that I will likely make little sense in my review. What I loved? EVERYTHING. But, for a few specifics, see below.

Chewie ordering 'Brash cub' into action. "I spoke, you go."

Leia's ruminations on Luke and Kylo were so well written (as was it all).

The conversation between Holdo and Leia was priceless. 'This is where you break down and cry.' and “Poodoo. The day Leia Organa can’t put herself together is the day I reveal I’m Jabba the Hutt.”

The Finn and Rey section was fantastic as well. I love the Rey pov on her friendship with Finn. Excellent. Now, you NAILED Boyega's Finn in his nervous antics in trying to 'save' Poe from Holdo's clutches. Perfect.

Holdo perched herself on the edge of the crate where she was sitting with Poe, turning her back on the assembly and leaning dangerously close to him. “Rey!” Finn whispered urgently. “We have to do something!”
But what take the ever loving CAKE is Holdo's seduction:
She grinned. “Apology accepted… for the time being. Now go back to calling me Holdo, will you? I’m still calling you Flyboy, you know.” She reached out and pushed a stray strand of hair off his forehead with the tip of her finger. “It suits your haircut.”

What the blazes…? “Okay… Holdo.”

“Tsk, tsk. You’re not saying it right anymore, Flyboy. Where’s the spark you had me used to? It’s ‘Holdo!’, not ‘Okay… Holdo.’” She moved closer to him. “Intimidated?”

I was laughing so hard, I actually shed a tear or two. I love this fic so much!

Bunches of Boisterous Bonus Points for he unparalleled REBEL rendition of 'The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything!' That fact that I knew that song was icing on the cake of one of best fics I've read in a long time. The ANTICIPATION was SO worth it. Thank you for this, It made my month!

 

Oh god. I have so many things to comment on, I know I wouldn't get to them all. But this was absolutely hilarious, but you also blended in so much in terms of Leia's loss and her friendship with Holdo.

And Poe/Holdo? I'd 'ship it

I loved all of Chewie's nicknames, but this one was the best.

AND THE PORGS! I LOVED ALL THE MENTIONS OF PORGS!

I actually squealed out loud (and freaked my poor cats out) when I realized Holdo lived!

Hahaha. I have a feeling Leia has told Holdo this a lot over the years.

But this also makes me sad to think how many people Leia lost in the short timeframe of TFA and TLJ (oh man, they were mean to her). I'm glad, at least in this AU, Leia got to keep her friend.

Life is too short not to just go after what you like.

I can totally see Finn trying... and failing at trying to "fly casual".

Oh my goodness all the lyrics were just hilarious. I could totally hear them in my head.

Yup, that was the only way to end this.

Oh, I am laughing so hard, my housemates probably think I have finally lost my mind.

 

This is such a fun entry. LOL! Poe and Holdo!? Is that….Poeldo!? Holdopoe?! Poholdo!? I'd ship it..just to make BB-8 jealous
lol @ Chewie’s nicknames for everyone

I really like this and too bad it didn’t actually happen in TLJ. Also, your expansion on Holdo and Leia’s friendship was wonderful. I also like how you kept Holdo being the oddball that she is.

Of course...Finn hates the mushy stuff! “Holdo has a crush!? HOLDO has a CRUSH?! EWW!!!”

Eeep! LOL

I have a feeling Kylo would probably join them after this song…

 

I was lucky to get a sneak peek at this one, and it is just as good on the 2nd round! Just so much to love... so dangerous to read...

I love, love LOOOOOOOVE how you wrote Chewie. I just feel you just really got into his head perfectly.

This. Just, absolutely, this.

Loved this, too...the ambiguity of not being sure which one was classified by Leia as which.

Finn has had rather a disadvantaged upbringing. He's tried to flirt with Rey (in the clumsiest fashion) and Rose is sorta into him and he wasn't quite sure how to deal, and now watching this...

Snicker. Why am I NOT surprised by his reaction? Oh, those flyboys...

And is right on form, barging in unwelcome at exactly the worst time! Maybe that was the greatest crime of Anakin Skywalker... not killing the younglings, not helping the Emperor build his Death Star, no... he brought 3PO into existence!

I wasn't at all sure how you would pull this off when first you threw the idea out there, and yet I should know by now never to doubt you!

 

AMILYN AMILYN I loved her and I love her still. She's JUST THE FRIEND Leia needs right about now. And this whole Poldo thing. It works. And then 3PO had to barge in LOL

 

A/N: Chyntuck has graciously allowed this thread to act as a Paldo PAAD, let me be the first to contribute I hope you enjoy!

Short of Breath: A Paldo ficlet

Poe Dameron had a lot going on; a lot going on all at once. Not the least of which was a brassy, but classy purple haired former vice-admiral showering him with affection. He was now the heir apparent to the top leader role in The Resistance which was nice, but a bit sudden given that both Leia and Holdo! were still alive, but opting to act in purely advisory roles. Poe let his mind wander to the advantages of having Holdo as his personal adviser. Shaking his head to clear it of her lithe form, aquiline nose, and commanding beauty, he turned his attention to...her piercing blue eyes and the lavender waves that framed her face.

Come on, Dameron! Get it together. You have a Resistance to run, not mention a best friend who is, at best, socially awkward. He needs your guidance as well. And, then there's Rey, the Jedi. What the hells are you going to do with her? Leave her to Leia, that's what! For now, anyway.

The good news, if you could call it that, was that they were still on The Millennium Falcon. As cramped as it was there was time to digest the situation. He felt a presence at his side that was closer then the cramped quarters deemed necessary. He knew who it was. Her sweet, but subtle scent hitting him hard. He ignored her, attempting to retain some sense of command, some sense of control. Her lips were at his ear, practically nibbling on them.

"You look lost, Flyboy?" she purred.

He took a short, calming breath. "Just reviewing my options."

"I know how those choices can be," she whispered, her warm breath on his cheek. "Do I want to dress up or do I want a dressing...down?"

Her hand, resting on his thigh, began a slow march upward, fingers marking every centimeter taken.

"Though that dressing down sounds...exquisite," he murmured. "Perhaps, toning this down for the moment would be beneficial in the long run."

He had not turned to look at her because he knew his resolve would crumble if he did. He took in the more sedate post celebration hold of the Falcon. Suddenly, but no less stealthily, her thumb and forefinger captured his chin in a vice-like grip. She slowly, but deliberately turned his face to meet hers. Again, their lips were all but touching and her determined sky blue orbs drilling into his. She took a small step forward, pressing into him and him into bulkhead.

"Sure thing, hot shot," she breathed, nipping his chin as she withdrew.

Poe Dameron rested against the bulkhead, a flush face and heavy sigh his only response.

 

Hm...does the Falcon have cold showers? It definitely doesn't have PRIVACY! LOL!

 

Only one word suffices for that @brodiew besides a yum. SQUEEEE! This is WAAAAAAAAAAAAY too fun

 

Oh 3PO, always barging in at the perfect time

Holdo and Poe go together surprisingly well.

 

The Poldopalooza continues! I had such a good laugh reading your ficlet brodie. Hot, steamy, shameless Holdo in action but these two tiny titbits in Poe's thoughts were perfection for me:

The fact that you included the exclamation mark had me barking with laughter. I don't want to know if it was a typo; Poe thinking of Holdo as "Holdo!" is part of my headcanon now.

Lololol!

 

What an interesting idea for a thread; and that first story was awesome - how did you do this and that SAT word story in the same month?!

Not sure how I feel about everyone understanding Wookiee, but I can really get behind Bright Cub and Brash Cub, especially the former.

I was mainly attracted by the advice at the start, that Finn and Rey would be sitting together to exchange thoughts, and while that part was enjoyable - I liked that she felt Finn to be the person she could share her Ach-to experiences with - I felt it was cut short too early.

What you replaced it with, a party, and that amazing song, catapulted it to new height.

Amazing work.

 

What is this, really?
A Poldo Story.

The Millennium Falcon and it's precious cargo are safe. Certain allies, who failed when doom seemed inevitable, suddenly emerged from their fear fanned folly and made contact with General Leia. Temporary refuge was secured and the last of The Resistance finally set feet to earth once again...

Amilyn Holdo sat at her makeshift vanity and took in her ragged appearance. It had been a long day. Death had had it's filthy hands around her throat and only seconds had separated her from eternity. Staring death in the face makes one take stock of her life, her choices, and past possibilities forgone. She was not the kind of woman to second guess herself. Her ruminations were not about regret, but about what her future would hold. The Resistance, The First Order, The Jedi, The Sith, and the Flyboy. That she was suddenly and unreservedly making advances on the younger man had not only surprised Leia, it had surprised her as well. Only minutes prior to her escape from the Raddus, the fool had mutinied and put them all into further danger. Had she just decided to forget about that? That Poe Dameron had arrested her and sidelined her under armed guard. No, she hadn't forgotten, but with Leia's wisdom as a guide, she had forgiven him, and quickly. Because as much as he had broken ranks, he had done so with courage and conviction and, though misguided, he had done so with the purpose of saving his compatriots. She could not fault him that. He cared about the Mission, he just needed guidance and more leadership experience.

Amilyn was happy to take that mentor role, but now wondered if her affections were solely born out of surviving a near death situation and wanting to experience some of the fullness of life immediately and with a virile younger man. As she pondered this, she felt the uncomfortable dawning of doubt. Ironically, her emotions were playing games with her. She did not doubt her desire to see Poe as more than Flyboy toy, but the creeping fear was more about his potential desire for her. This was troubling for her. Amilyn Holdo was a powerful woman. She was beautiful and stately; in her own way, of course. She had always taken life by the bantha horns and never allowed a man or woman to make her doubt herself.

However, the wrinkles at her eye's edges taunted her, and the worry lines on her forehead asked an ominous question: Are you too old for him?

****
Poe Dameron could not get Amilyn out of his mind. Their encounters on the Falcon were burned into his brain and the arousal he experienced at the mere thought of her was both exhilarating and concerning. Should he being thinking about intimate relations with a member of the The Resistance Command?

She did mention that she was going to quit, remember? You're the boss now. Or, you will be. But what does it mean when every time you see her, you want to consummate the surface tension that has been threatening to spill over since she was discovered alive. She made at least two moves on you while en route and you pretty much allowed her to run the show. What were you supposed to do? You were in public both times and her advances were not subtle and not made in secret. What does she want from you, Dameron? Besides the obvious. What do you want from her? A tumble in the bunk? You don't have a tumble in the bunk with a woman like Holdo! Though a one time encounter may be all she's after. She did almost die. You're a hotshot pilot fresh off a major...victory? Not exactly shining so bright Dameron. You need to know more, guy. You need to know what she wants. You know want you want, don't you? But, it is it all you want? What if the sex is bad? What if she's as controlling in the bedroom as she is on the bridge of a capital ship? What if this is all a ruse to get back at you for your mutinous man handling of her on the Raddus? Settle down, Dameron. You're getting all worked up over...something. Are you worried she doesn't more? Are you concerned that she might just want to use you and discard you like a First Order foot soldier? Since when is your confidence beholden to any woman?

Poe Dameron realized that it was the moment he cracked the escape pod and saw her look of relief. Fishing his com unit from his trousers, he called her.

*****
"Holdo," she answered.

"You're not saying it right?" he began, evenly. "It sounds cold and kind of repressed. There needs to be some pizzazz or something."

"Is that so?" she replied, deepening the cold in her voice. "Repressed, is it?"

"I was hoping you wanted to talk to me but that opening makes me want to face a wing of Ties on my own."

"Cold, is that what you said?" she asked, icily. "I thought you knew Leia pretty well."

"Umm, why are we talking about the General?" Poe replied, confused.

"Because she would have told you that I am anything, but repressed. She would have told you that if I were at Hoth, it would have looked more like Naboo. She would have told you that Space is cold, but I am more like the core of a star."

"I hate to say it, Holdo!," he said. "But the General and I never talked about you. Well, not in more than an official capacity."

After a few ticks of silence, she said: "Good to know. I'm glad to hear that she didn't reveal much personal information about me. I prefer an air of mystery. However, she was a regular gossip girl when it came to you, Flyboy. Number of kills here (over a hundred), number of dates there (sub zero). No wonder you couldn't keep from arresting me. You just wanted to see me in stun cuffs. Frustrated much?"

"Plenty," he replied. "By conversations like this over a comm unit. I'd much rather we resume our verbal joust over dinner. What time should I drop by your quarters?"

More silence on the line.

"1815. Be a dear, and don't be late. One more thing. As long it appears this will be a date. What is your favorite color, Flyboy?"

"At present, lavender is striking my fancy," he answered, truthfully. But green is a color I also enjoy."

"Green it is, then."

 

@brodiew Great musings and very realistic ones on both sides. And the conversation - snarky and inquiring as to what do you know about me and what is next steps? And so we see, a date. This is definitely a thing
I have a feeling that like Leia and her "Blyboy" there's undeniably more than just superficialness going on although a near-miss /brush with death certainly adds an urgency to Amilyn's side of things, a deep sense of whew!

(I can't get Kyp/Amilyn out of my head, now that's an image! A handful for both of them!)

 

I know this was originally intended to be a crack ship, but somehow it just works. It's weird, but I like it.

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: Thank you! I appreciate it, Nyota! This story will continue, but first a drabblicious tangent.
@Cowgirl Jedi 1701: I'm so glad to hear that it worked for you, Cowgirl. I hope it inspires you to come back!

A/N: As mentioned above, this is a drabble tangent because I can and feel so inspired. Beware of heavy emotions in 'Ends'. I will now return to my regularly scheduled work on 'What is this, really?' and hope to have another post up tomorrow.

Beginnings

Poe Dameron never expected to see Amilyn Holdo again. Her blaze of glory was as spectacular in death as the General said she had been in life. He bowed his head at the loss of another Resistance leader and regretted not getting to know her better. Their acquaintance was short lived and hotly contentious. Mutiny has a way of dividing people, especially when he was the one usurping command. When her life pod was discovered adrift, Dameron knew he had second chance to make a first impression. Now all he to do was convince her to give it to him.

Middles

“What's the matter, Flyboy?” Holdo! Goaded, finding him in his favorite chair in the study. “Getting tired of the Old Lady?”

“The Old Lady must be tired, herself, if she's pulling the age card,” Poe replied. “You know I could never tire of you, Amilyn. There is so much Holdo! I've yet to encounter.”

The sixty year old woman lay across his lap as if she were a co-ed vying for the affections of her studying beau.

“True,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “I still have a few secrets, a few bits of mystery yet to reveal.”


Ends

It was on the morning of her 76th birthday that Poe rose early to make his beloved breakfast and bring it to her in bed. She was a heavy sleeper and he could still make a modicum of noise in the kitchen with out waking her. When he returned half an hour later, he saw that she had not moved. On closer inspection, she was not moving. His heart skipped a beat, and he almost dropped the tray of food and flowers he had prepared. He set the tray down on the bureau by the door and went to her. His knees were weak and his hands trembled. He knelt beside her, reaching beneath the sheets to take her hand in his. The pink in her cheeks was gone and her chest no longer rose and fell. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. He pressed it to his cheek as he wept. He took in her peaceful features, the hint of a smile on her lips. Laying down her hand, he stroked the lavender waves that had caught his eye so many years ago. His spotted knuckles grazed her cheek oh so softly. He rose and sat on the bed next to her, taking her hand again. He stayed there for a long time.

 

Beautiful musings in Beginnings; gentle teasing in Middles; very very poignant in Ends. I love seeing that they had staying power as a couple.

 

Just read the first part and I loved Chewie's names. Bright Cub and Brash Cub! Leia's thoughts after the battle when she is alone are just amazing. . Holdo flirting with Poe and Finn trying to 'extricate' him is so cute. And you captured that moment between Holdo and Leia so well. I could hear the Rebel Song! I would sing it out loud but it would upset my family and my cat. It was wonderfull I felt like I was right there with all of them. Well done!

 

Finally caught up! brodiew, I never expected that this silly crack!ship would spawn such a plot bunny, but here we are and it's fabulous!

I loved the fact that you had them both questioning their reasons for engaging in any sort of relationship in What Is This, Really? There was a mental process to go through and you handled that perfectly. But then, to use your own words, what takes the ever loving cake is the banter:

Heh. Don't try to fight the admiral on her own turf, Flyboy. It's not gonna work.

See? What was I telling you?

And this is the moment when the Flyboy turns things around!

Okay, not completely around, she's still mostly in charge here... the operative word being "mostly". I'm very impatient to see how this date will go!

As for the drabble tangent, I told you on PM already but I'm saying it here again: you knocked it out of the park. I can't really add anything to this other than: head-canon accepted! (as sad as it is)

 

Okay, y'all got me hooked. I ship it.

 

A/N: I'll be back with replies, but I want to get this posted. It's rough, but I'll polish it at home.

What Is This, Really?
Part 2

As Poe exited his temporary quarters, he felt the familiar pre-flight jitters rising in his gut and shoulders. These feeling usually only surfaced as he was about to go into battle. Was he going in to battle with Amilyn? He didn’t know. He shouldn’t have called her comm greeting ‘cold and repressed’. Not really what a woman wants to be called. However, their recent encounters had definitely put the innuendo and repartee out front. Shaking his head, he determined he was worried about nothing and that her tone in the prior conversation was all part of the game. A game which was about go to another level one way or another. Checking his chrono, he realized it was 1818.

“Stang!” he said under his breath as he knocked on her door. At first there was no response. At least she was consistent in slow responses. He hoped that would not continue. Things were already awkward enough.

When the door opened, he was momentarily struck by the difference of her appearance. The previous lavender waves were now a tropical green, muted as the previous color had been to accentuate her beauty rather than to distract, or simply make a statement. Gone also was the dull golden gown she wore on Raddus. It was replaced by an Azure asymmetrical tunic, linen, and black pants also linen. And, comfortable black shoes. She looked cool, casual, and unmistakably radiant.

“You’re late,” she said in greeting, not yet willing to share a smile.

“And, you’re green,” he replied, grinning. “It looks fantastic. You look fantastic.”

She smiled sheepishly despite herself. “Get in here, Flyboy.”

When he entered the small apartment, he was shocked to discover that she had already made it her own. Though she had gotten off Raddus with nothing but the clothes on her back, she had somehow managed to find some local artwork, acquire flowers, which he suddenly realized he had not, and added additional lighting.

“Homey,” he said as he glanced about the room. “Been decorating?”

“A little,” she replied. “Drab doesn’t work for me.”

“Clearly.”

“I take it we can dispense with the ‘cold’?” she said, closing the door.

Poe remained neutral, opting not enter battle so soon. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I thought we were playing a game of words.”

She came around him, graceful as ever, locked on to him with her penetrating eyes. She placed her hands lightly on his chest. “There is a game, Poe. But it’s a game of strategy and mystery, of truth and of daring.”

He did not break eye contact. “Sounds like my kind of game.”

She raised her right hand to his cheek and traced his jawline with her forefinger. “We’ll see. Won’t we?”

She turned and elegantly sashayed back toward the spartan kitchen.

“So, what are we going to do?” He asked, uncertain of what would happen next.

“I’m certainly not old fashioned, but Leia would probably say that was on you. What’s your plan, Flyboy?”

“An evening in?” he said, off the cuff, given he really hadn’t thought ahead. That comment about him not dating anyone was truer than he wanted to admit. He hated looking foolish, much less in front of beautiful, intelligent woman.

With an impish laugh, Amilyn said: “Poor Flyboy. You make the date, but have no idea what to do? And, I just bet that stings. Have no fear, I think I have some fruit and bread we can share. Perhaps, a little spring wine.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Poe replied, shifting in place. He watched as Amilyn produced the bowl of fruit and bottle of wine. A quip about her being domestic crossed his mind, but he thought better of it. If Vice Admiral Holdo was preparing a meal for him on the fly, no matter how meager, he had better appreciate it. He removed his jacket and laid it on the arm of another chair in the room.

“I’m flattered by your nervousness, but there’s really no need,” Amilyn said and she pulled out a chair from the table and patted it welcomingly. “I’m sure you’ll be prepared next time.”

“”Right, of course,” he replied, blowing out a breath and running a hand through his hair. He sat down.

She sat as well, still and relaxed. She regarded him with curiously. “Poe, I won’t bite…again. For now anyway. You can relax, okay. I won’t apologize for my behavior on The Falcon, but I won’t continue it at present either. This is a date, right? Not a clear the table romp in the middle of the apartment?”

Poe took a couple or more breaths. “If that was supposed to put me at ease, I’m confused. In one breath you tell me to relax and in the next you’re filling my head with salacious images.”

“Oohh, salacious,” she replied with a flash of her eyes, bringing her hands together and clapping excitedly. “I love that word. Say it again.”

Poe looked uncertain. She was playing with him, taking advantage of his nerves. He couldn’t let it continue.

“Salacious,” he answered, leaning forward and drawing he word out.

“No, you ruined it,” was her flat response. “But, that’s okay. Let’s move on.”

Poe narrowed his eyes and folded his arms. “Are you always this maddening?”

Her eyes lit up mischievously. “Always.”

He regarded her closely, taking in the power in her eyes, the dare she was laying down. The conversation, such as it was could go either way. He picked a bright red ursy from the bowl and bit into it.

“You’re acting like a child,” he stated.

She burst out laughing, but Poe’s aim had been true. She was lovely when she smiled or laughed.

“I think you hit the target dead center, Flyboy. Very observant. Now maybe both of us can lay down our defenses and start to really see each other.”

“So, you’re saying you are a child,” Poe persisted.

“Inside and out,” she replied, opening her hands. “If by child you mean someone who loves life and refuses to comply to societal ideas of normalcy, then yes, a child. But let’s take it one step further. What do children like to do most, Poe?”

The pilot mulled it over. “Play.”

“Bingo. It’s all a big game. Life, I mean. How you play determines how feel about yourself and others. I get the impression you like to play by your own rules, or, at least, make the rules bend to your interpretation of a situation.”

“You’re not wrong,” Poe confessed. “I like winning; especially in when it comes to saving lives and beating up on the jackboots. Sometimes that passion blurs the bigger picture.”

“I appreciate your honesty, Poe,” she said, extending a hand across the table to him. “Winning is then end goal, but the bigger picture has to be considered. Short term goals, long term goals.”

Poe was tempted to fold his arms again in preparation for a lecture. “I’ve heard the leadership lesson from Leia, Amilyn.”

“You are too cute, Flyboy,” Holdo responded, pouring herself a glass of wine. “None of that was about The Resistance. Beverage?”

“Yes, please,” he replied, realizing that she was already four or five moves ahead of him. “And touche. You are quite clever. But that’s not news to you and it something I’m coming to realize very quickly. But let me ask you something. Are we arranging a marriage of strangers or are going to move from a game of words to the game of life?

She poured his glass half full, meeting his eyes and nodding at his point scored.

“Because, there is something I remember very well about being a kid. As much as playing was a high priority, saying what I meant was right at its side. I didn’t have time for lies or deception. Still don’t. So let me be clear. You are a lovely woman. That green suits you as much as the Lavender. You have a spark which is alluring and compelling. You have a way that makes me want to not just follow you, but be part of you. I want to touch you, but I don’t want it to be cheap. I want to hold you, but I want it to mean something. I want to see that spark in action. Maybe it will rub off on me.”

Amilyn didn’t speak. With as much control as the woman exhibited in her person, she seemed to be struggling. Her eyes glistened with emotion.

“Well, then, it appears we want the same thing,” she whispered. “You are an exceptional pilot, Poe. Like nothing I or Leia, or any non Jedi has ever seen. And, that skill, that experience, your charisma and passion, will make great leader. Even more, a great man. A man I want to be near. A man I want to be part of. You see, I don't want a man who will fold when I get demanding. I want a man who will challenge me to be better. I want a man who has a passion for life that will compliment mine.

He finally took her proffered hand in his.

“My caress is not easily given. Do you understand that, Poe? My affections aren’t thrown about carelessly. That may seem odd given my previous behavior toward you, but make no mistake, I am not fly by night. When I touch you, I mean it. When I hold you, it is serious for me. If that isn't enough straight talk for you, let me add one more thing. I want that with you. Let’s see what we can do about making it happen.”

Without preamble, Poe rose, her hand still in his. He drew her from her chair and pulled her into a soft embrace.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked.

“But we don’t have any music?” she breathed in return.

“Yes, we do.”

The began to sway together in the middle of apartment. An effortless symmetry.

“Yes, we do,” she echoed.

 

@brodiew -- you really are toppers at the whole dialogue meets relationship candor/process. Insightful and warm, simply lovely.

 

@brodiew Those were beautiful posts. I never would have guessed that I would enjoy Holdo and Poe together! But here I am enjoying the two together thanks to you and Chyntuck. You've captured their insecurities and desires so well, and your additions were beautiful. Beginnings, Middles, and Ends was very moving. Especially the Ends. When he holds her hand at the end of her life...very touching. Great dialogue between the two. Well done