Written for TFA kinkmeme prompt: rare pairs. Sequel to "Cloud Illusions," but can be read independently.
I normally don't go for smushed shipnames, but the kinkmeme informs me that these two would be "Poland," which is great. (Just look at their national anthem! "Poland Is Not Yet Lost," anyone?)
"We're in a war," Lando says, "you know?"
Leia-oh, right, it's General Organa to him now-stares him down and responds with a frozen "I believe I was informed."
"What he's saying is," Poe rushes on, fingers twitching in Lando's grip, "I'm a little young for him but I'm old enough to make my own decisions and, unfortunately, we could all be dead any minute, so, you know. No time like the present."
"Calrissian," Leia sighs, "of all the things people have tried to justify by the provocations of their enemies, falling in love has got to be one of the most commendable."
Once that sinks in, he blushes. "Just trying to assure you my intentions are honorable."
Then she rolls her eyes. "Dameron, the man's a born scoundrel. When he tries too hard to sound honorable, that's when you run." BB-8 gives what Lando thinks is a wolf-whistle of appreciation, although he's never really sure what the droid is beeping about at any given time. That this hasn't completely disqualified him from Poe's love he considers a new miracle each day.
"And thank you," Leia continues more quietly to Poe, "for finding him."
Well, it hadn't taken much arm-twisting, had it? Cloud City was getting less and less inviting every day, as people fled to sparser surroundings in fear of the First Order. Once he'd learned that no, there wasn't actually any point in waiting around for Han to show up on another attempt to regain some credit for the old days, Poe's tale of a noble but outnumbered force had been compelling enough.
Or maybe it had just been the man's voice.
The secret to a healthy relationship, Poe declares confidently, is to be too busy fighting other enemies to fight each other.
"I trust you completely," Lando admits when the General is far out of earshot, "I'm just worried that someday I'd be able to multitask."
At any rate, Poe tries to live up to these ideals by tiring himself out on missions; somehow Lando's been conscripted for top-level work behind the desk and finds himself charting courses for smaller and smaller fleets through emptier voids. When Poe gets back-sometimes by nights, and sometimes by other planets' schedules-Lando is usually able to let himself rest for a while. The other pilots have enough to tease Poe about without adding Lando to the list, but once one of them demands a rendition of The Ballad of Droid LY-05 Poe mock-protests before obliging.
Of course he would fall for someone who knows all the verses to The Ballad of Droid LY-05. In retrospect he should have seen that coming, even in the war.
"You didn't tell me you were that Lando Calrissian!" Poe finally blurts, one day over lunch. BB-8 gives him a look.
"Oh?" Lando asks. "Sorry, which other one did you think I was? Because if the other guy is behind on his debt or something I'm not him."
"Just-that you'd blown up so many spaceships." But he's smiling. It's easier to love a person than a myth; the myth couldn't have loved him back.
"Don't get a complex," Lando mutters. "I know, it isn't fair, but we're fighting for a world where there aren't enough Stormtrooper deathtraps to go around. We can't all get our own. Besides, Luke did it first."
"We all have help, too."
"Tell me about it," says Lando.
Poe takes it literally, and goes on about how great it was that his friends are so heroic (which appears to be measured in bases jerry-rigged for explosion). If Rey, whoever she is, and Finn happened to grow closer along the way, well, that was just their due as narratively-blessed protagonists. People like Poe had to watch from far away.
Maybe finding someone else like him had been like coming down to earth after all. Or maybe, in Cloud City, it was still like walking on air.
Finn isn't exactly a "lightweight" so much as a "guy who wasn't raised to associate intoxicating and potentially dangerous substances with social cohesion and individual amusement." Which, when Lando tries really hard to wrap his head around it, sort of makes sense. Of course, trying hard to wrap his head around novel perspectives is easier after a drink or two.
"Sometimes," Lando admits, "I feel like-I don't deserve him. You know?"
"Oh," says Finn. "Yeah. I do."
He meant it mostly rhetorically. "You...what?"
"Well, he's not mine, um, that way. But in my-own relationships, and friendships even, sometimes. When I try to compare myself with these amazing people..."
"You don't necessarily feel as great as he is, as good."
"Hey, now. There's plenty of things I outdo him in. I think I'm probably-"
Exactly who's a better close-range shot or long-range hacker, Lando doesn't really care about, and his attention drifts off until a droid that seems built to break up bar fights short-circuits and crashes into the back wall. It's a bulky, slow model, built for more frivolous times, and it seems wasteful in their current climate. He snaps back to the conversation.
"-and I think he'd like that, you know?"
"Eh?" Lando asks. Surely Finn means well, but he can't be too experienced in romantic advice from even halfway-reliable sources.
"Just being yourself, so he can have someone to go to. Maybe he doesn't want to be the Poe Dameron all the time. As long as he can trust you to let him relax and be human, then you'll be good for him, yeah?"
"Good idea, kid. One little problem, see? Everyone in this bar could be the same thing, if they wanted. Everyone outside this bar, even, the universe is a big place..."
"All right, c'mon, that's not fair," Finn says, glancing into the bottom of his drink as if for inspiration. "Most of 'em aren't his type, a couple of 'em would just race him to keep up with them. And these days..."
"Too many are First Order crackpots?"
"Well, he makes it his life's work to reduce that pool. One way or the other."
"And that leaves me in with everyone else?"
"Is that a bad thing?"
It shouldn't have been, really. But being one of a huge crowd got people's planets blown up. Standing out, being someone special, well, that couldalso get a man killed, if a little more slowly. "If not being completely evil is the benchmark, Darth Vader would probably have been in a few dating pools for about half an hour."
"Wait, what?" says Finn. "Who?"
And Lando has to hope against hope that Finn will be too drunk to remember this tomorrow. Kids these days.
"Hey, um," Poe says, "can you do me a favor?"
"Of course!" Lando grins down at him. An errand to run? Maybe something impolitical, he'll find it. On most days he'd be ready to volunteer for a longer-range quest than normal, but not today. Today, the resistance's dock is keyed up, the signals they've received the previous night still coming in loud and clear.
"Try not to make Skywalker uncomfortable, okay? Or the General? I think she's really gonna need us."
"Luke? Uncomfortable? I'm his friend, of course I'll do whatever I can for him!"
"I know you'll try. We all will. But it's been hard on everyone, and the last thing we need is more stress making it worse."
Had the cost to find Luke been worth it? Nobody could answer, Lando figures. There would be planets burning and bases exploding, no matter where a Jedi or two wandered.
"I'm glad you found me." He closes his eyes, leaning in for a quick kiss. "Nothing can change that."
"Okay." Poe holds still, letting Lando riffle his fingers through his hair for a minute, before fidgeting. "Let's go meet some legends."
When he sees the familiar arc of the Millennium Falcon sweep its way across the horizon, a view he'd once consigned to holo-vids and memory, Lando almost wants to will it to go slower, make sure it lands. But that can't be right. He hadn't acquired it for its safe landings.
Then it's touched down, and something is disembarking: that little R2 droid. If it hadn't been for C3PO's explanations, Lando could have believed that the robot would follow Luke to an island and camp out there for a decade or two, hibernating in lieu of any power source. It makes its way to C3PO, with BB-8 giving a jealous whistle from behind Poe's feet.
And then there are the organics. He's not sure whether Luke and Leia have anything to say to each other, or if their bond goes too deep for words. Perhaps nobody wants to speak if the General and Master Skywalker are above such things.
But Lando sees another unmistakeable face, and glances over at Poe for advice. Poe nods, as if he was ever going to recommend caution.
Lando waves.
Chewbacca is hugging him; it really hasn't been that long, in the grand scheme of things, since his last bone-crushing Wookiee embrace, but this one is laden with more emotion than the last. In what remains of his arms' limited range of motion, he tries reciprocating. When Chewie lets him go, he figures he's going to reek of Wookiee for a while. For once, he doesn't care.
Because the ice is broken. Luke and Leia are holding each other again, and their eyes begin to speak before their mouths. Finn has joined Rey at the bottom of the ramp, BB-8 following at a distance. Lando shoos Poe over to join them, and at least for one day, the shipyard buzzes with a joyful noise.
When he finally does get a chance to talk to Luke, he really does mean well. He doesn't set out to say anything tactless, and besides, it's not like he's any younger than Luke, himself. Of course the guy would look older than when they'd last met. Lando's hair has gone grey, too.
So appearance-related razzing doesn't even hold much appeal. Still, he can't help sizing Luke up and blurting "Nice lightsaber."
Luke gives a tired smile, like he's forgotten there's supposed to be some noise that accompanies laughter. "Thank you. I'd like to teach Rey how to make her own."
"That sounds wonderful," he says. Lando's not sure where she's going to find someone with two good arms to teach her how to hold onto it, butthis thought he keeps to himself.
"She's extremely-talented. And she's come a long way."
"You must be proud."
Looking down for a minute. Luke blushes. "Lando, you need to understand, she's also a very accomplished pilot, and very acquainted with the scavengers' law of finders' keepers."
Lando rolls his eyes. "You forget Han and I kept in touch. If I tried claiming priority on the Falcon, I'd be tauntaun meat."
"Well, then. I think her apprenticeship, and perhaps her friend Finn's Resistance duties, will keep them busy enough that the ship will stay grounded often enough. If you ever need a look around, I trust you'll have no problem getting in."
Lando breaks into a wide smile. "Thank you," he says. It shouldn't matter as much as it does, to him, but denying the hope the thought brings him would be another win for the First Order. "Poe? Poe!"
Almost too late, he decides to dash off with a we'll-talk-later wave, rather than have to introduce Poe to Luke when his mind is elsewhere. "What's going on?" Poe asks dubiously, clearly skeptical that Lando couldn't follow a simple piece of advice.
"Come this way," he waves, "there's something I think you'll really like to see."
Poe can't help but scan the horizon as Lando speedwalks toward the shipyard, as if someone else is going to drop out of the sky and open diplomatic communications or fire. Instead of dragging his attention towards the Falcon, Lando instead heralds Chewbacca. "Chewie! Can you let us in? Just to look around..."
"Drgldf," Chewie mutters, which he thinks is approximately Wookiee for you'd better not fly off with it.
"Relax, relax," says Lando. "Poe's here. We're not going anywhere."
It never crosses his mind that Poe would have been around and hale as Rey was preparing to depart; that he might already have glimpsed the ship and thought nothing of it, used to newer, more glamorous models. Instead, he watches Chewbacca's enormous paws finagle with a security pad. The ramp descends, and Lando's heart quickens. Han had bragged, if nostalgically, countless times about the augmentations he'd installed to make it a little cozier, but he'd never seen for himself...
Poe, either genuinely curious or playing along, sprints forward, and Lando has to work to keep up with him. Once they've boarded-
well, the ship doesn't look as deprecated as he'd secretly feared. Partly it's the nature of being abandoned in the sands of Jakku rather than getting shot at or dodging asteroids for countless years. But the kitchen is right where Han had promised it would be, the cargo bay ripe for holding goods legal and contraband alike, and of course, the controls ready to take off at speeds as fast as ever. If he even wanted to.
"Beautiful," Poe whispers.
"You really think?" Lando blurts. Amid Tie Fighters and X-Wings, where had Poe Dameron learned to judge the aesthetics of circular scrap?
"Oh," says Poe, "you're not bad-looking either."
Lando leans over and kisses him across the console. With a scandalized growl, Chewbacca paces down the ramp. This ritual, too, is part of theFalcon's lore-and maybe its future.
When Lando half-seriously makes Rey the offer he makes all the other Resistance troops, to join him and some of the guys for cards with their drinks, he doesn't really think she'll accept. After all, she has important training to be about. And for all that Luke is never getting a moment to himself, socializing to make up for years of lost time, Lando figures that he recommends more...reputable methods of entertainment. Most of the younger pilots have already learned, the hard way, not to play cards with Lando anymore.
But to everyone's surprise, Rey joins them, occasionally sipping from her flask. To Lando's astonishment, she's quite good, accumulating a small pile of chips in front of her over the course of the night that Finn eyes warily, while the other pilots moan and then imbibe more deeply (which probably isn't helping).
"Where'd you learn that?" Lando finally asks, after her pyramid of chips starts spilling onto Poe's and he flicks them back.
"Jakku," says Rey. "I didn't play-but a couple idiots thought they'd risk what they had, I picked up a thing or two. A strategy, I mean. Not things."
"Excuse me!" Poe says. "Some of my best friends are raving idiots."
"You're not using the Force to read our minds, are you?" Lando asks.
"Well," says Rey, "your mental defenses are admirably resilient."
"What's that supposed to mean?" asks one of the other pilots.
"Past my curfew," Rey giggles. "Thanks for the game. Go find C3PO's holochess set if you fancy a challenge, I think that's more my style."
"I should get going too," Finn says. "Goodnight."
The other pilots scatter, mocking Jedi "curfews" if only to hide their own scheduling anxieties; any morning could bring the need to relocate for the short or long terms. Lando begins packing up his chips. "Do you really think this helps her? Overpowering weak-willed pilots?"
"Do you get cheated out of a lot?"
Lando laughs. "Just over the board. Before-Luke saved most of his gambling for the pilot's seat. Some of Leia's comebacks, I don't know what she was on."
He sees Poe's eyes widen at the thought that the esteemed General Organa would have ever gambled on cards, in the days that luck had flowed free. "Do you ever want to play holochess?"
"Maybe," Lando says. If they have time between missions and Poe wants to spend it on holochess, he'll humor him.
"I don't really. I'm just a little burned out on playing cards with you."
"I have that effect on people."
"No! I mean-give me long enough, I'll charm everyone else out of their chips and catch up to you, I'm not afraid of losing a few more rounds in the meantime. But-I don't want to be able to read you. Not like everyone else is trying to. I want us to have our own little gestures."
"Oh," says Lando, "I'll give you a little gesture," and reaches over the table to try and hug him. This, of course, causes him to drop the last of the chips, and the trickling-out pilots to whirl in surprise.
"It's all right," Poe says, flashing them one of his smiles, and Lando wonders if he hasn't gotten to his position through more luck than skill.
"Next time," he says, "just grab a microphone and sing The Ballad of Droid LY-05 all night."
Poe rolls his eyes, but he doesn't say no.
They are in a war, and it sucks. Anything could happen, world-shattering or mundane-he could get shot before he has time to react, or Leia could take the brunt of a disturbance in the Force. Rey could scratch the paint of the Millennium Falcon.
Or something could happen to Poe. They're grown men, taking their own risks, and Lando knows he wouldn't be able to appeal to some other standard of fairness or claim he's entitled to more.
After they kiss one night, he has to settle for "Thank you for bringing me to this understaffed scrap heap." It's not a home on its own; Poe doesn't do magic and transform it into one just by flipping a switch, but maybe it's enough.
"Any time," says Poe.