(This fic is co-written with culturevulture73, and each chapter has a gifset that goes along with it. Go to my tumblr (roane72) and search for "save the last dance for me".)
The Skywalker-Organa-Solo apartment on Coruscant was nothing grand by Coruscanti standards (or Alderaanian ones, for that matter), but it was by far the most palatial place that either Luke or Han had ever lived. Leia said it struck a balance between being worthy of a senator and two war heroes, and being modest enough to avoid being showy.
Luke thought it was pretty damn showy.
Still, on nights like this, when dinner was long over and it was just the three of them, sprawled comfortably in the living area, each caught up in their own pursuits, he wouldn't have traded it for anything. Han was muttering over some schematics from the Falcon, Leia was going over some of her endless piles of paperwork, and Luke was caught up in an ancient Jedi manuscript he'd managed to find on one of his searches. Their mindset had been so different than Ben's or Yoda's—or maybe they'd just given up on trying to enforce all the rules with Luke.
"Damn it," Leia growled. "I have told that woman 'no' a hundred times."
Both men looked up, concerned. "Leia?" Han spoke first.
Leia glanced away from her datapad, as if surprised she'd spoken aloud. "Oh, it's nothing. Someone over at Holonet 13 keeps pestering me to make an appearance on one of their shows. You know, one of those competition shows."
A grin broke out over Han's face. "Like those racing shows where you'd have to run around the city looking for clues?"
"Don't you dare laugh."
Luke might have kept quiet until she told them not to laugh. He met Han's eyes—another mistake—and they started choking the sound back. "You'd be great," Luke said lamely, biting the inside of his cheek.
"You're so good with taking orders as part of a team," Han added, and then the two of them were off again, snickering.
"You two can laugh all you want—she wants one or both of you too."
Han stopped laughing. "Now wait a minute. You're the one in the public eye. I'm just a private citizen these days, trying to do an honest day's work—"
Luke snorted.
"—an honest day's work," Han stubbornly repeated. "You and Junior here are the ones out there trying to change the face of the galaxy."
"Why do they want us?" Luke asked.
"Well, ratings for them," Leia said. "And some of my staff keep insisting it would be good publicity for the New Republic. I don't know, some poodoo about showing us as human beings, making us more relatable." She waved a hand.
Luke thought about the people who treated him with a faint sense of awe, how conversations stopped when he entered a room. Once or twice, people had tried to bow to him, the "last Jedi knight". He hated it. Not the least because he had no intention of staying the last Jedi for much longer, but finding students was proving harder than he'd expected. No one with any potential thought they were worthy (which alone made them worthy), and the people who wanted to become Jedi had no business doing so.
"Do you think it would work?" he asked. "Being more relatable? I mean, would that be good for the Republic?"
Leia eyed him closely, her mind brushing over his. She didn't do it often, although he'd tried to encourage her to practice more. "It's probably good publicity, if we're careful and don't let them put us on a show that's too ridiculous." She gave Han a stern look. "No running around any cities. There's a cooking show they mentioned, and that dance show—"
Han chortled. "Dancing Across the Galaxy? Oh that's great. We should put Luke on that. Can you imagine?"
Stung, Luke said, "What can you imagine?"
"Well I mean, you're great with a lightsaber in your hand, kid, but you ain't always the most graceful guy around."
"I'm graceful," Luke protested, his voice rising to a pitch it hadn't hit much since he'd left Tatooine, and he cringed internally. "Leia, tell him, I can dance."
Leia see-sawed her hand. "I mean… you've never stepped on my feet, but…"
"I can dance," Luke insisted stubbornly. "Put me on that one. I'll do it."
Han and Leia exchanged a look that said they were going to try to talk him out of a bad idea.
"I mean it," Luke said. "You know I'm the best choice right now. Leia's too busy, and Han—I mean, you're great in a cockpit and all, but you ain't always the most diplomatic guy around."
Han rolled his eyes at Luke's impression of him.
"Look, the most likely outcome is, what, I do this for a couple of weeks and lose, then we're done."
Leia wore a thoughtful expression. "It would get this holonet exec off my back for a while," she admitted. "But Luke… we're talking about billions of viewers all around the galaxy. Aren't you worried about, I don't know, Jedi dignity?"
It was Han's turn to snort.
"Maybe if I'm more relatable I can find some people willing to train with me," Luke said.
Leia chewed on her lower lip, which always made Luke want to reach out and tug it free. Han got there first.
"You're thinkin' awful loud there, Senator."
Leia glanced between them. "They do a lot of personal interviews for these shows. Try to get the contestant's life story. They're going to go digging for anything they can get. Are we ready to go public?"
Han and Luke looked at each other. "Wouldn't take a genius to put it together," Han said. "I think the Alliance rumor mill had us figured out before we did."
"Leia's right though, that's not the same as the entire galaxy." Luke reached for Leia's hand. "Would it hurt your career?"
"Being in a three person relationship? No. The Galactic Senate is a little more open-minded than that. But Luke, if anyone finds out who you and I are—"
"No one's going to," Han said. "We're the only ones who know who your father was. If the Empire knew, they would've already put it out there."
"You can help me get ready for the interviews," Luke told Leia, squeezing her hand. "I've seen you. You never give anything away."
She frowned at him and he got a faint glimpse of her thoughts, hanging over them like a furrowed brow. Secrets were fine for her, but she didn't like the idea of him having to keep them.
"It'll be fine," Luke said.
"If you're sure." Leia was wavering, he could tell.
"I'm sure. I'll do it."
Leia leaned across the couch and kissed him. "I'll let her know."
#
The night the first episode was set to air, Han was as far away from Coruscant as he could manage. He made excuses to Leia and to Luke, saying that he had business he couldn't avoid, but he wasn't sure that either of them believed him. Luke had been so busy with training and rehearsals over the past few weeks, Han had barely seen him anyway. But there was no power in the universe that could have kept him on Coruscant. If he'd been there, Leia would've made him go to the show. And Han was too nervous for that.
Still, that night Han was in a spacers' bar, sharing a few drinks with Wedge Antilles. He kept a close watch on the holovid projector overhead, and when the show's logo flashed across the empty space shouted over the din at the bartender, "Turn that up!" He waved a twenty-cred chip, and the bartender grudgingly complied.
Wedge stared at the holoprojector. "Dancing Across the Galaxy? Didn't know you were a fan."
"Luke's on." The sound went up and the chip went across the bar.
"No, seriously?"
"Yeah. Look."
The opening number was blaring across the bar, something loud and brassy. Couples were trotting out one at a time, and there was Luke, wearing the same sort of glittery overdone costume as the other men on stage, with a gorgeous redhead on his arm. Han blinked, a little thunderstruck. Luke was actually keeping up with her. It wasn't much more than a bouncy walk to the beat as the announcer introduced them, "Luke and Arica!" But Luke looked… comfortable.
"Sith hell," Wedge swore. "And he did this of his own free will? He didn't lose a bet?"
"It's something him and Leia cooked up." Han couldn't tear his eyes off the projection. Luke was grinning like the kid Han first picked up off that dustball. The number ended and they went to the advertisements.
"He's gonna get knocked off tonight, I bet," Wedge said.
Han didn't disagree, but loyalty insisted that he argue. "I don't know. Kid's full of surprises." He barely paid attention to who the other contestants were. Wasn't like he spent a lot of time watching holovids. Wedge, on the other hand, seemed to know who everyone was.
"That's Jorlonn Shijou," Wedge said, pointing out a human male of maybe fifty to sixty Standard years. "He used to a big star, but he just vanished before the war started. Nobody knows what happened to him."
Han half-listened, signaling the bartender for another round.
"The kid there is Coby Stanrho. He used to do holovids for kids, but they're trying to get him to branch out," Wedge was saying, pointing at a kid with fluffy blond hair and a blinding smile.
"How do you know all this stuff?"
"Listen, you spend as much time alone on long trips through hyperspace as I have, you get desperate for entertainment."
The only contestant Han had heard of was Devonoa Colslo, a Pamarthan pilot who'd won the Five Sabers race two years running. She was a hell of a pilot; Han had met her once. Like most Pamarthan pilots, she was loud and rough and didn't take any poodoo from anybody. He wasn't sure how she'd wound up on a dance show.
They had to sit through most of the show, Han getting antsier by the minute. "What's taking so long?" he groused.
"No, it's a good sign," Wedge said. "If they're putting him on late in the episode, he must be pretty good."
Wedge filled him in on every single thing that was happening, who the judges were, who the hosts were. Han had never heard of any of these people. It was like seeing a whole new galaxy open up in front of him.
"Shh, there's Luke!" Han cut Wedge off, and let out a low whistle. "Wonder what Leia bribed him with to get him back into uniform."
Because there he was, larger than life with a slightly sheepish smile on his face, wearing his old Republic dress uniform, which as far as Han knew, he hadn't worn since the first day of the new Senate. "I'm Luke Skywalker. I fought for the Alliance and helped form the New Republic." They cut away to footage of him smiling at the Senate dedication, his attention riveted to Leia while she gave a speech. Han's heart contracted a little, the way it did every time he saw that look on Luke's face.
Luke went on, as a montage showed of him: in pilot orange, conferring gravely with other pilots about something, laughing at something Han said (when the hell had anyone gotten that footage?). "When the producers contacted me, I gave it a lot of thought before saying yes. I knew I needed a new challenge, but I also knew that a lot of people have the wrong idea about what the Jedi were—and what I am." His smile softened a little. "Now's my chance to show everyone that we're just normal people, not scary wizards."
Wedge snorted and Han elbowed him.
"Whoa," said Wedge, "she's new."
"I'm Arica Pradeux. I've been a Standard dance champion on the Mid Rim circuit and this is my first season on Dancing Across the Galaxy."
Han might've paused, drink midway to his mouth. Damn. Arica had long coiling red hair and sharp, arresting features, gorgeous enough anyway, but then she smiled and everything amped up to almost blinding.
"I'm hoping to get Luke Skywalker. I've always wanted to meet a real hero, and I think he could be a great dancer." Her smile widened like she was about to add something, but then she didn't.
Cut to the a large rehearsal studio, where Arica was waiting, fidgeting with her hands. Luke walked into the studio and Han's face started to tingle. Leia, what did you do?
Because that had to be her doing. Luke was wearing a pair of almost shockingly form-fitting pair of black pants, soft shoes, and an over-sized gray sleeveless shirt with a Rebellion firebird symbol, faded but visible, on the front. He managed to look strong but also a little shy and vulnerable at the same time, and that was just playing dirty Sabacc.
Han suddenly started to regret being light-years away from home tonight.
A group of three women sitting at one of the nearby tables stopped their conversation to look up at the projection. One of them whistled. "I had no idea he was so pretty."
"You didn't?" said one of her companions. "Oh, I could have told you, believe me…"
"Look at those arms."
At that point Han tuned them out, gritting his teeth.
On screen Arica was beaming at Luke. "I can't believe I actually got you! I have always wanted to meet you."
Luke ducked his head like he did every time someone gave him a compliment, smiling as they shook hands. "I'm afraid you're going to have your hands full. I haven't danced much before."
"Just do what I tell you," Arica said, her eyes twinkling mischievously, "and you'll be great."
"I'm pretty good at following orders."
Wedge snorted loudly enough to draw attention from folks nearby. "I know a few generals who'd disagree with that."
It turned out that Wedge was more right than Luke was. Not that Luke didn't try, of course, but it didn't look like he was doing so well.
"Okay, that was better," Arica said, "but try to relax your shoulders. This is supposed to be fun and flowing, not regimented and stiff."
They tried again. Han couldn't see any difference, but Arica said it was better. Then she started poking at Luke's arms, and Han frowned.
"Look." She moved his left arm into the position she wanted, hands wrapped around his bicep. "Like this."
The women at the table nearby sighed collectively.
Luke was trying not to laugh. "How am I supposed to hold my arm like this without tensing my shoulders?"
"How do you do it when you're fighting?"
Han saw the understanding dawn on Luke's face. "I'm not thinking about it," Luke said. "I don't have to anymore."
Arica beamed up at him, finally letting go of his arm. "And that's why we rehearse."
The scene faded out to the live lights went down on the stage, and Han could see just the outlines of Luke and Arica in their starting positions. Damn it, his palms were sweating. This was why he wanted to be off-planet tonight. The name of the dance the announcer gave meant nothing to Han—he'd ask Wedge later, maybe—but when the music started, it was bouncy and cheerful. The lights came up and there they were, each in shades of bright blue.
As they started to dance, both of them were wearing dazzling smiles—and Han fought the urge to groan. The last time he'd seen Luke smile like that was on Yavin 4, in front of the whole damned Alliance, and Han and Leia had spent the entire evening chasing off over-interested would-be suitors. (And then later, they'd dragged him off to have him all to themselves.)
Han had a very bad feeling about this. That smile was going out over the entire damned galaxy. Why didn't he stay home tonight?
Then the camera cut to Leia, sitting in the front row watching, and Han fought the urge to bang his head against the bar. He knew that look on her face. She was enthralled, and probably more than a little bit turned on, and Luke would be glowing with excitement after this and Han was on Corellia. This had been a massive miscalculation.
"He's good!" Wedge said, surprised.
"Of course he's good," Han said, relieved to hear it. He couldn't tell—all he knew was that Luke looked happy and that he hadn't tripped over his own feet or dropped his partner.
The dance finished with Luke and Arica in what seemed like an overly complicated pose to Han—arms twisted every which way and wrapped around each other somehow. Luke was beaming, his chest heaving a little as he tried to catch his breath. When they broke the pose to head to the host, Arica gave Luke a little smile and something about it made Han bristle.
"It turns out the Hero of the New Republic is a hero on the dance floor as well!" exclaimed the male host. "Luke and Arica just took the audience by storm!" He turned them toward the three judges. "Let's start with Alin Vebb, what did you think of Luke and Arica, Alin?"
"Uh oh," said Wedge. "He's the tough one. He doesn't like anything."
Alin Vebb, it turned out, was the Mon Calamari sitting in the middle of the judges table. He drew a moist breath before speaking. "That was quite serviceable for a first week's performance." The crowed booed, but he went on. "Obviously you're comfortable with footwork, but you were too stiff and uncomfortable much of the time."
Close on Luke, who was listening intently and nodding.
"I disagree!" the judge to his right said—Han didn't catch his name, but he was human. "I thought you were a delight, so much joy coming from both of you. You work very well together!" Luke and Arica glanced at each other and smiled, and Han felt his hackles rising again. He really had to stop, or this was going to be a very long season.
"I agree with Bredan," the third judge, a lovely Togruta woman, said. "You both looked like you were having so much fun out there. Luke, there's definitely room for improvement with your technique, but you've got the most important part down already. I loved it!"
The audience approved. Arica and Luke headed for the balcony area where the other couples were watching the show, and waited for their scores.
There was a Twi'lek hostess waiting for them. "Now, Arica, you seemed awfully excited to find out that your partner was Luke. Can you tell us why?"
Arica looked a little flustered, color rising in her cheeks as she and Luke stood with their arms around each other's waists—okay that was what all the other couples did, Han told himself.
"I've always wanted to meet him," she confessed. "Can you blame me? He's been great to work with."
"Arica's a good teacher," Luke said. "Really patient—and believe me, I've been told before I take a lot of patience to teach."
The hostess laughed more than the joke required. "I'm guessing you mean your Jedi instructors?"
Luke nodded. "And everyone I served under in the Alliance."
Han watched with a growing sense of awe. He knew Leia had been coaching him, but Luke seemed completely at ease, bantering with the hosts and his partner. It was a side of him Han had never imagined.
The scores, when they came, didn't mean anything to Han, but Wedge said they were good for the first week. Luke and Arica came in second behind that holovid child star—who Han now hated for no rational reason.
The host had barely said goodbye with Han was sliding off his barstool. "I gotta go," he told Wedge, patting him on the shoulder before throwing some credits on the bar. "Good to see you."
If he pushed it, he could be back home to Coruscant in a few hours.