Luke entered the dark apartment, tired enough, he hoped. Show night usually left him exhausted but hyper, and he counted on being with Han and Leia to help him settle. Usually, as they did after a battle, they worked off the adrenaline together. But tonight, he was alone.

It was odd to rattle around their apartment by himself at night. During the day, when he was home alone, he enjoyed it. But at night, he was almost never alone. Not since the night on Home One, before they flew the captured Imperial shuttle to Endor, when they reconnected. He and Han had snuck a tray of food out of the mess, met Leia in her cramped quarters. Wolfed down the meal, then when it seemed the time to separate, Han had said softly, "I've been alone for six months."

The horror of it—of Han, trapped in the in-between state of waking and sleep, no idea if Leia and Luke were alive, if they were coming for him—resonated between the three of them. Even as keyed up as they had been, they simply slept, wrapped around each other. Luke had felt at peace for the first time since he had the vision of Han and Leia at Cloud City. The memory had carried him through the days that followed.

Tonight, in the Coruscant night that looked like day, the thread of worry was haunting him. Han and Leia were probably still in transit, they were surrounded by the crack Pathfinders, and they would be fine.

And he could tell himself that over and over, but it wouldn't register. He needed to be there. He shook himself clear. Shower first, clear his head, and then he could meditate.

The real water shower was one of the features they had all agreed was a selling point of the apartment. Big enough for the three of them, even if the one time they had tried it so far, they'd been laughing too hard to figure out the best way to try things without falling on the slippery tile or tying themselves into knots. He let the water run, trying to stretch out the muscles bruised from dancing, sword play, and holding himself in check, to not say the wrong thing, not show his fear for Han and Leia.

Swathed in his robe and long pajama pants, Luke moved to his meditation space. The three of them shared one extra bedroom as an office, another as a work space that had parts for ships, blasters and sabers strewn across a work table. The study was a small sitting space they'd had walled off for Luke to use for meditation away from Han and Leia. He dropped into his usual cross-legged sitting meditation, started his cleansing breaths and dropped his shields, opening himself to the Force.

He couldn't reach Leia at this distance, but he could still sense if they were all right. Sunk deep, he found them at last, familiar lights in the firmament. Safe for the moment. He could sleep now.

Except he couldn't. The bed, bought for all three of them to fit, was enormous without Leia and Han—Leia staring at the news and making snide remarks about her fellow politicians, Han grumbling for her to turn off the holoviewer already and get over here. Luke stretched across the bed, trying to relax, but he only felt less at ease. He stared at Leia's preferred news channel, actually the only one that didn't make her shout angrily the whole way through an hour, but there was no news of Riosa. So he made a survey of the other channels.

He found the entertainment channels quickly enough, landing on a recap of Dancing. He laughed at the recappers breathlessly deciding that Shijou was jealous of Coby, which Luke had to admit he agreed with, and their declaration that Devonoa was going to snag Jhcor. Which was so wrong, Luke didn't stop laughing for five minutes. He watched his and Arica's dance again, his own worst critic. The judges were right; his heart hadn't been in it, and he still hadn't learned how to consistently keep the beat. The rhythm of a fight was constantly shifting, never a constant thing—that was how he'd learned to move. It wasn't doing him any favors now. He was so caught up in critiquing himself, he almost missed the recappers' last comments:

"With all that chemistry, I just knew there had to be something going on between them," declared a wide-eyed, breathless woman. "That kiss—that was probably the hottest move we saw on the dance floor all night!"

Her Rodian co-host was skeptical. "It looked a little too practiced to me," he said.

"Oh, I'm sure they've practiced," the woman tittered.

Luke changed the channel, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Until he heard from Han and Leia, he could only hope they weren't seeing any of this. He finally put on an old holoserial that had been a hit long before he'd left Tatooine, about a family with eight kids, and decided to let it lull him to sleep. It eventually worked.

#

Cold.

Colder than that lost night on Hoth, out in the storm, because that night, he had been in Han's arms, the smuggler praying to gods Luke had never heard of that they would live.

But this cold… it was deeper and harsher than mere ice.

He was back in the Death Star throne room, evil beating about him like a storm. He stared at the Emperor's dead eyes, hooded in the gloom, and summoned courage he never dreamed he would have.

"Your overconfidence is your weakness."

"Your faith in your friends is yours. Especially two of them."

Two?

He clamped down on every thought against the grasp of the darkness.

And then commotion behind him. Red guards shoving someone ahead of them.

"Luke!"

The baritone and alto harmony that held him together. He tried not to turn but they were thrown between him and the Emperor. Leia's hand gripped in Han's, even though they were both cuffed. Her dark eyes, his hazel, dark in the dim light, looking at him, full of worry and fear.

No. Please, no.

"If you will not join us, you will see them die."

Their eyes, staring at him as he closed his own. "Spare them and I'll—"

"No, Luke, you can't—"

"Luke, don't—"

Can't look, can't, no, I won't be strong enough.

"Decide, Jedi. The time for games is over."

He could hear Vader's saber igniting, hear himself screaming—

And he started awake, screaming to an empty room. The sheets were clammy and tangled around him. Luke was completely lost—the room unfamiliar, the bed empty… then he snapped back into the present. He drew a long, shaky breath, tried to slow his racing heart. He pulled himself into a ball, rolling into his usual spot on the bed. His heart finally slipped back into its regular rhythm as he began to warm up.

He hadn't had that nightmare in years, although once it was so real and so common that he had to fight to remember that it hadn't happened that way, that Han and Leia were never on the second Death Star.

It made a certain amount of sense that he would have it now, he supposed. They were away and in danger, and here he was…

And here I am, on some ridiculous holoshow. He remembered the words that Leia had thrown at him with such anger, about how much time she'd spent over the years doing just this—putting on a show of normalcy while he and Han were off doing something dangerous.

He'd always known Leia was stronger than he was; this was just further proof.

#

Luke got to the rehearsal studio early the next day, his mind foggy from so little sleep, but determined to find Arica and talk to her before the cameras started rolling. They could get this all straightened out. Whatever it was. He'd given her the wrong impression, maybe. Hadn't made it clear enough that he was involved with someone. This would have been a lot easier if he didn't find her attractive at all. He had to be honest and admit to himself that he did, but…

There she was, talking to one of the sound crew. She spotted him and smiled. "Luke! You're early!" Arica hugged him, and Luke found himself hyperconscious of everything he did, afraid of giving a mixed message.

"I need to talk to you. Alone." He eyed the hovering sound woman, giving her his coldest, sternest Jedi stare until she backed away.

"Oh no, what's wrong?" Arica took his arm and guided him away from the others.

"Arica…" Luke sighed. Given who he was, he'd had to do this before, but it never got any easier. He hated this, knowing that he was about to hurt her. "I wanted to talk about last night."

"I know. I'm sorry. You were right. I shouldn't have had you play yourself." She looked up at him with wide green eyes. "It's my fault we did so badly."

"No, it's not—it's not that. Arica, you're a beautiful woman, and I like you very much, but—"

Arica blinked, and then laughed gently. "The kiss. Of course. I'm sorry, I should have warned you."

"Warned me…?"

"Oh Luke." She took his hands and squeezed them. "Have you seen any of the news reports this morning?"

"I saw some last night… I wanted to get here as soon as I could."

"Sweetheart. Everybody is talking about us." She smiled up at him. "Votes are going to be into the stratosphere."

Her meaning slowly dawned on him, with a sense of frustration and irritation. "You kissed me to get votes?"

"Of course. I saw the judges' faces while we were performing." Arica kept smiling at him and he realized that the cameras were watching them from a distance. "I wanted to hedge our bets. You want to win, don't you?"

"But I thought—"

"I know. I'm so sorry." Her smile edged toward an impish grin. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I enjoyed every second of it, but I get the feeling there are some things in your personal life that mean you're not interested."

Luke opened his mouth, then closed it, realizing he wasn't sure how to answer that.

"Your secret is safe with me," she teased. "But if things ever change…"

"Um—"

Arica laughed at him, the sound verging suspiciously on a giggle. "I'm playing with you. Seriously. You don't have to do anything else. The gossips will do the rest. It's all over the holonet."

Oh no. Luke had to find some way to contact Han and Leia. Even if they'd missed the show, they were sure to hear something. The last thing they needed in the middle of a battle was this.

"Come on." Arica pulled him by the hand. "We need to get to work. This week you'll be picking our music, so start thinking about what song you'd like to dance to."

#

"We've got walkers in the southwest sector," came Leia's voice over the comms.

"Where the hell are they still getting all this equipment?" Han groused. He and a handful of troops were holed up in the southwest sector of the Riosan capital after taking out some of the Imperial terrorists.

"I don't know, but you better believe that's what I'm going to look into when we get home." Leia sounded furious.

Every time Han thought the nightmare of combat was behind him, something new happened. The Empire just refused to lie down and die. None of them seemed to get that there was no Empire anymore, just pockets of terrorists who called themselves the Empire.

They'd been planetside for just over two days, and progress was slow. Neither Han nor Leia were talking about Luke or what had happened. They'd tried, the first night. Han had gotten so agitated he'd had to walk around the makeshift camp. Not knowing, not having any idea what was going on with Luke, it was driving them both crazy. So they agreed to stop talking about it.

That didn't mean Han had stopped thinking about it. Some people might think it odd that he was so bothered, if they knew he had no qualms about seeing Luke kiss Leia—quite the opposite, in fact. But seeing Arica kiss Luke made his gut burn. Leia was trying to be calm and reasonable. Surely there was a simple explanation. That it was all just for show. And deep down, Han knew Leia was probably right, but the mental image showed up every time Han closed his eyes: Luke with another woman—someone who wasn't theirs—in his arms.

"General Solo, we've got reports that the walkers are down."

Han snapped out of his reverie. Thinking too much about the situation at home right now was likely to get him killed. "All right. Let's try to break cover and get back to the others."

#

For every city section the Republic took back, the Imperials seemed to retreat to yet another. The two armies were burning a path through the Riosan capital and there was nothing Leia could do to stop it.

She and Han weren't at their best, and she suspected the other Republic soldiers knew it. Some of them might even suspect why. After the last show had aired, Leia had seen a few people giving them sympathetic looks, while the rest were hooting and gossiping about Luke.

The first night, she was half-afraid Han was going to commandeer the troop transport and fly back to Coruscant, with her or without her. It was so unlike him, and when she asked, he couldn't explain why he was so worried. At first she thought it was just jealousy that had gotten out of control, but now she wasn't so sure. Or maybe his unease was rubbing off on her.

Either way, Leia had a bad feeling about things. It wasn't like her to feel this pulled in two. She'd always done her duty, and was doing it now, here on Riosa, but still… the sooner they could get home the better she'd feel.

#

Four days after Han and Leia had left, and Luke was still a mess. Not sleeping, not concentrating well. He got the studio extra early that morning, still half asleep and trying to puzzle out how best to deal with what Arica was planning. He couldn't argue with the effectiveness of her plan so far—everyone was talking about them and that seemed to bode well for the voting but… it bothered him. Not just because it was dishonest—because he was learning there was a lot of dishonesty in show business—but because he hadn't been able to talk to Han and Leia about it, to make sure they were okay, to get their opinion.

Nothing else had happened between he and Arica, but whenever they rehearsed, Luke found himself acutely conscious of the cameras again, and what they might seem to show later. It hadn't taken him long to learn the various tricks of clever editing the production team could come up with.

"Morning, Luke, what are you doing here? Your call's not for another hour." Lischelle, the floor manager, had her ever-present data pad and cup of caf.

"Woke up early," Luke shrugged.

As much as Luke didn't quite trust the production crew, the live show crew were good people. They were old hands, guild members, who were used to live events and had clear memories of what working under the Empire had been like. The director was a hard-bitten Corellian who reminded Luke of Han at his gruffest, although Luke wouldn't swear the director had Han's hidden heart of gold.

Luke was friendly with all of them, but the live show crew claimed him as their own. He knew all their names, asked about their families, even helped tote equipment around. He didn't miss that the live show crew and the production crew were at odds often, over who did better work.

He knew both crews were openly speculating and betting on the sleeping arrangements at his home, but he also knew the live crew weren't gossiping about it outside of the set.

Lischelle gave him a sympathetic smile. "Still too quiet at home?"

"Hopefully not for much longer," he answered.

"Go get changed," she said. "I'll make sure to send someone in with some breakfast. I bet you didn't eat."

Things hadn't improved much when the other dancers arrived. There was a group dance this week and Luke had to pull it together. He smiled when Coby fairly bounded up to him. He finally understood what Han had said years ago about Luke himself—it was too hard to not to smile in the face of such enthusiasm.

"Mom and Dad missed your friends the other night. They really like them."

Finally, he could say something that he didn't have to puzzle out the impact of every word. "They really like your parents too." Even Han, wary of people even more since they'd become minor celebrities, thought Stanrho's parents were good people, and wondered what the hell they were doing in show business.

"When are they coming back?" Coby asked innocently.

"I bet if he knew, he'd be telling everybody," Devonoa interrupted, giving Luke a hidden wink. "You never know with all that political crap. You doing okay, kid?" She squeezed Luke's shoulder and it was so like Han he couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah." Luke tried to shift the subject. "You two pick out a song yet?"

"I have!" Of course Coby had, and Devonoa shrugged.

"You?" she asked.

Luke made a face. "No. I haven't had much time to really think about it."

Devonoa took a good look at him, and Luke had the uncanny feeling that he'd always gotten when Yoda studied him the same way—although there was no sense that Devonoa was doing anything mystical. She was just shrewd and knew people. In any case, he had no doubt she saw right through him.

"You don't have a favorite song?" she asked him. "Or—I dunno—a song that means something to you? Something special? Something that might… send a message?" She really did see through him, because her eyes met his meaningfully.

Oh. Oh. Luke suddenly knew exactly which song he was going to choose.

#

The two teams finally met up in the city center, with the Imperial forces running toward the perimeter. Before the full set of commanders regrouped, Han managed to find Leia for a moment and ducked out of the confusion.

"I thought I looked bad," she quipped. As always, they covered everything with snark.

"Thanks, sweetheart," Han shot back. He pulled her close—the whole squad had come to expect that if Luke, Han and Leia weren't snarking at each other, they would be hanging all over each other. Wedge joked that it was the second lesson new recruits learned after "listen to your commander."

"Bad night?"

"Yeah. You too?"

She sighed. "I was on the Death Star again, you know that dream I have of waiting for you and Luke but you don't come and they come to…"

"Yeah." He stroked a few tendrils of wayward hair from her cheek.

"You too?" He nodded and she winced. "Carbon freeze?"

He almost smiled. "No, I think you two have almost driven that one away. I had the other one, sitting in Mos Eisley while BoShek took the job from Kenobi instead of pointing him and Luke toward me 'n Chewie. Where I watch them walk out without ever meeting them."

She touched his cheek. "Might've been an easier life."

He finally did smile. "What? Miss all this?" She rolled her eyes and he laughed softly. "Seriously, that one is the worst. I never meet either of you? What's my life then? Besides, I know BoShek. He'd've sat in that control room and let Luke go off on the worst rescue of all time by himself. Luke would've gotten his fool head blown off, you'd've been dead, and the Death Star plans would've gone nowhere. No matter what's happened to me along the way, I will never regret picking up that charter and listening to some farmboy spin me a story."

The Pathfinder with the holoviewer came over to them as they were all taking a rest break. Leia was already worried at the woman's horrified expression. She cued something up, saying, "I think you need to see this."

TPZ was named for the ten parsecs around Coruscant, the Core Worlds where most of the celebrities lived and entertainment for the Republic was created, and it was one of the worst gossip shows around. The few times Leia had found it and watched in horror, she'd felt like she was back in the trash compactor.

And now, Luke was on it.

"Question time with Luke Skywalker!" Leia winced at the horrible animation and smarmy narration. Next to her, looking over her shoulder at the tiny viewer, Han growled.

Luke was walking to a speeder cab outside the rehearsal space where he and Arica trained. He looked strung taut and Leia caught her breath. This was all wrong.

"Hi, Luke, could we ask you a few questions?" The question was from one of TPZ's ever-present camera teams which swarmed over shuttle arrivals and holovid filmings. Luke looked at them for one split second as if they were the Empire, and then summoned his prize-winning smile.

"Sure."

"When are General Solo and Senator Organa coming back?"

The show switched from Luke to a shot of the bullpen of staffers and reporters, clustered in front of their computer terminals, talking to their boss, a former lawyer from Naboo.

"Oh, Luke is so beautiful," one of the female staffers sighed as her cohorts hooted and derided her. "He is, and there wouldn't be a Republic right now if it weren't for him!"

"Well, and us," Han grinned. Leia slapped his arm. "I'm not wrong!" he protested.

Leia hushed him. "I want to hear this!"

"Yeah, whatever," the leader said. "He's on Dancing Across the Galaxy now—"

"And all over his partner, Arica," one of the male staffers jumped in.

A picture of Arica, in the skimpiest dance costume possible, flashed on the monitor.

"Who wouldn't be?" one of the other staffers shouted to laughter.

One of the reporters retorted, "You've seen the senator and the general, right? He lives with them."

They cut to a shot of Han and Leia at their table during the last live show they'd attended. Leia felt nauseous, suddenly. She glanced at Han and knew he was wishing he was in blaster range.

Cut back to Luke, who dipped his head in that shy way of his, the motion too revealing for Leia's tastes—if Luke was that vulnerable in front of the public, it spoke to his state of mind. "They're on business for the Senate and the Alliance. There's not a strict timetable. They'll be back soon."

Back to the staffers. "So which one do you think he's—"

Shouts of "the general" and "the senator" went back and forth. Then one of the women rolled her eyes. "Both of them—are you kidding me?"

Back to Luke at the speeder. The off-camera voice continued. "So what about you and Arica?"

"What about us?"

"I mean… that was quite a kiss…"

"Sure looked like it, didn't it?"

"What did the senator think of that kiss?"

Luke stopped walking. He turned with the same chilly faint smile he'd worn for too long after Endor, the one he'd used to keep almost everyone at arms' length. "I haven't asked her. You should though. I'd love to see that." He started walking again.

Back in the bullpen, there was hooting and laughing. "Oh damn. That was colder than a tauntaun's ass. I hope you didn't put money on it being the senator…"

"What would the general say about your choice of song?"

Luke turned back with the look both Han and Leia had seen before. The camera crew was lucky the Jedi wasn't armed and would never knowingly hurt non combatants. "Again, find him and ask him. But I wouldn't get in blaster range."

The cheesy animation took them out of the segment. "Whoa there, Luke, sounds like we might have hit too close to the truth." The screen wiped to the next segment, another installment of a never ending feud between some singers.

Leia switched the show off. "I would like to sue those bastards."

"Sue? The blaster range idea sounds good to me," Han grumbled.

"What were they talking about, about the song? What song?" Leia glanced over at Han. Her hands were clenched at the awful way those people had ambushed Luke. She should have warned him about that. He hadn't been ready for it at all.

"I don't know. Something about what song he chose for the dance." Han was already scanning the holonet for some recording of it. There had to be one out there.

It didn't take long to find.

Leia could tell right away that something was off. Both Luke and Arica were wearing black this week, Arica's long hair pulled into a twist at the back of her head. The two of them made as fetching a couple as ever—but… The dance was a Yavinian tango, a dance that was supposed to be fluid and passionate. The way Luke and Arica were dancing, it wasn't. It was like they were meters apart from each other, even though their bodies were close. Luke had all the steps down, as far as Leia could tell, but there was no spark at all. His movements were stiff and lifeless.

It was reflected in the judges' scores. For the first time, Luke landed in the bottom two and was in danger of going home.

She turned to say something to Han, but stopped at the expression on his face. His eyes were miserable, his jaw tight. He might not have her or Luke's connection to the Force but she and Luke had both learned how to sense his emotions under the surface. He was in turmoil. "What is it?" she asked.

"The song."

"What about it?"

"You don't remember that song?"

His words pinged a memory in her. It was a slow, torchy song from a couple years back. "Maybe?"

He shook his head. "Yavin."

"I don't …"

"You and Luke were sitting at a table, at the party after we got the medals. He heard… look, I saw you two across the floor, hearing that song and both about to fall apart…"

And she suddenly remembered with aching clarity. The lyrics were about leaving, and remembering and goodbye, that was enough. Everything came back to goodbye. It was playing as Han had dragged them away from prying eyes, back to her quarters. Han just listening to them as she and Luke nearly came apart, tallying their losses. The three of them drinking to forget, burying their pain in each other's arms.

Before the celebration, they'd fallen together as a heady lark, driven by adrenaline and near-death and joy, almost without thought. After the party, it was if they had knotted their ties to each other, ties that had slipped and frayed but they had always found a way to pull back together. Their lives together had always seemed to lurch from the depths of hell to great heights and back. Now, in peace, they had settled so easily into their relationship, without the Empire ripping them apart...

"Oh, no." Leia squeezed his arm. "You don't think—"

"That he was saying goodbye? I don't know—what did he say when they were picking it?" Han closed his eyes. "It was important to him, that it always reminded him of how his life has changed? Past tense, the whole time, past tense."

"You know he wouldn't do that." She shook his arm to make him look at her. "Han, you know he wouldn't do that. You always want to believe the worst."

"Get kicked in the teeth enough—"

"Stop it."

"You saw the rehearsal footage. He's taken with her." His eyes were as desperate as she had ever seen them. He might be the one without the Force but he read people and situations, or he wouldn't have lived as long as he had before them.

"Han, you know as well as I do how much they doctor that footage. Remember our interview?" Leia was trying to be the practical one, but Han's words slipped into that little crack of uncertainty she'd been feeling since leaving Coruscant.

"I know, but—"

There was no time for this, as much as Leia wished there were. "Han. It's going to be all right." And even if it's not, there's nothing we can do about it here and now. "You'll see. We've got reinforcements coming soon. Maybe then we can go home. But for right now, I need you here with me, do you hear me?" Leia reached out and turned Han's face to hers, looking him in the eye. "I need you in this fight, not the one you're afraid will come later."

Han's eyes cleared as her words got through to him. "Yeah. Okay, I—yeah." He leaned in and kissed her carefully. "I'm here." Leia picked up his thought as if he had actually said it. Please let Luke be here too.