open post;

[alderaans]

---

open post for pic prompts, starters, and texts. f/f + f/m for shipping.
please link nsfw images.
compatible through return of the jedi.

Comments

well hello there c:

[withinreach]

I'm starting to think that you're avoiding me on purpose.

well hi

[alderaans]

I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not avoiding anyone.

[withinreach]

That's funny, because you've been pretty scarce at my debriefing meetings lately. What's been keeping you so busy?

[ what or who ]

[alderaans]

I should hardly think you'd need me there. You seem perfectly capable of handling it on your own.

[ notice how she avoided answering that. ]

[withinreach]

[ yeah he did notice that ]

I don't need moral support. It just means you're hearing it from Mon Mothma later instead.

R2 says you've been leaving them before I get there.

[alderaans]

[ that droid needs to be stripped for parts. ]

And what's so critical that I just have to hear it from your lips instead of hers?

I have other meetings to attend.

[withinreach]

[ like he needed anyone to confirm what the already knew anyway come on ]

What's so important that you can't be bothered to show up to hear it yourself?

Unless it's my lips that are the problem.

[alderaans]

You presume too much, Commander.

Is there really anything so pressing that you need to relay it to me personally?

[ she’s really just leaving herself open. all the time. ]

[withinreach]

Do I, Princess?

Because this only started happening after our little moment in the corridor and I'm starting to think that you're too embarrassed to look me in the eye.

[ that was a near miss and she knows it ]

[alderaans]

Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?

I thought we’d both established that it didn’t mean anything. [ wishful thinking in her part, maybe. or maybe she doesn’t want to think about how she might have liked it. ]

[withinreach]

We could call it what it was.

[ or what it wasn't, more accurately ]

We did, but you think about it every time we make eye contact. That's why you can't stand to be in the same room with me, you'd start blushing.

[ oh he went there ]

[alderaans]

And what was it, exactly? Do tell.

You're making too many assumptions about what I'm thinking about when I'm around you.

[ sure, that made sense. she's not going to pretend how close he hit to the mark. ]

[withinreach]

I almost kissed you. You almost kissed me. Don't pretend like you don't know.

[ you're not fooling anyone sweetheart ]

If that's wrong then you tell me something that explains the way you've been acting around me lately.

just gonna drop this here bc reasons

[withinreach]

[ Typically whenever a mission came along that wasn't scrambling the whole base together to get off planet before they had a swarm of Imperials on their asses, it was because every detail had been meticulously weighed and calculated and planned, all well before he was told what he was going to do with it. Even after a victory over the Death Star, one that gave them the hope they so desperately needed, they still had precious little to work with when it came to resources. They had to be careful about where and when they would risk what ships and people they had, Poe's aware of that.

So no one needs to tell him how important it is when they're pulling out all the stops to rush to Corellia, of all places. Not an attack, but a rescue mission, of sorts - an Imperial officer that wants to defect, one that could bring with him the kind of practical knowledge about the Empire that would turn countless battles in their favor. Except the Imperials have caught wind of it, and are looking to bring him in before he has a chance to escape, so now they're all on a hell of a deadline.

Is Poe even the slightest bit apprehensive about slipping practically into the Empire's back yard to snatch an asset out from right under their nose? It would seem not. Aside from a couple of wayward glances in the meeting, ones that inevitably landed in a certain princess's direction, he's focused. This is exactly the kind of challenge he thrives on. Whatever distractions he's harboring, they're not slowing him down from moving with purpose, and a kind of nearly tangible energy as the hanger becomes a chaotic hive of activity around him.

They're not deploying the whole fleet though. Just his squadron, for the most part. They're not rolling in looking to fight, they're supposed to get in, get the general, and get out, a fact which has - unsurprisingly - been made especially crystal clear to him. Like he needed anyone to tell him that he's got a very narrow window here, and of just how bad things would get if he were to get caught up in slugging it out with the local defenses too long. The Imperial fleet will be coming, and if they're not out by then, no one's getting out.

He wasn't necessarily expecting to catch Leia anywhere near his x-wing after the conversation they had earlier, even considering all of this. But he's also been keeping an eye out for her, so he's spotted her even before the maintenance crew's moved on to the next ship. ]

Here to wish me luck? Or just to remind me to stick to the plan?

[ Or for a kiss goodbye. No, he won't say it, but it's there, hanging in the air between them, isn't it? ]

[alderaans]

[ It's a very last-minute situation, and those are always the ones that make her nervous. But this intel is too good to ignore, and if their contact is as reliable as sources say they are, they're not going to want to delay sending anyone to Corellia in order to retrieve him before the Imperials do. They're on a ticking clock now, and she doesn't need to assert the reminder that this may be the most high-pressure mission they've faced since the destruction of the Death Star. It was a major blow dealt to the Empire, but they're not down for the count yet, and Leia has no illusions that the Rebellion has done enough to send them running with their tails between their legs.

Everyone knows how serious this is, which is why the mission brief is exactly that — to-the-point, quick, solemn faces all around. By the time they look to her to step up and offer some word of encouragement, she tries to be as realistic as possible while maintaining that this is the hope they've been trying to hold onto, valuable information that could turn the tide of the war in their favor. It's critical that they not fail, and her eyes might linger a little longer on the face of the squadron leader when she utters that last part.

Once they're all ordered to head to their ships, though, she settles herself in to wait along the ladder by one particular x-wing, arms carefully folded across her chest. It's not only unease about the way their last conversation had ended — or hadn't, more accurately — that prompts her to confront him now, but she doesn't want to leave things between them on a bad note before he's intended to carry out what could very well be a mission some of his team doesn't come back from.

The thought that he could be among the lost hasn't even entered her consideration. He's too good a pilot to be killed like that. ]

... both, actually.

[ She straightens up as he comes near, one of her hands gently curving to rest against her hip. ]

We're all counting on you.

[withinreach]

[ Obviously she wouldn't be thinking about the possibility that he wouldn't come back. No more so than he is, none of them can afford to fly into a battle letting that thought slowing them down, even though they all know. He hears it enough from all other sides, that he's not invincible, that every loss is devastating, even though they got into these things knowing that it's highly unlikely that they'll come out unscathed. He's lost count of how many times it's been pressed to him that even he's not invincible, most recently from Admiral Ackbar himself. He can't blame them, they know what he's like. Stories of past bravery - and recklessness - run rampant, and recent months worth of having those most impulsive tendencies tempered somewhat haven't changed him that much.

He's just a little more careful about where he chooses to take a stand these days. Less because he's worried about what sacrifices he'll make, and more about the consequences that fall on those depending on him. So yeah, saying that they're counting on him does mean more to him even than it would outwardly imply.

And then there's the layer of meaning that he tends to filter through most things Leia says these days. It's always 'we'. We need you. We're counting on you. Sometimes he wants to shake her by the shoulders until she admits something, anything, about herself for once. ]

I know.

[ He pauses, just a second to take it all in, her posture, her tone, her eyes, maybe standing just a fraction too close and locking gazes with her for a moment too long, and then his eyebrows are arching upward in response as he ducks past her, underneath the nose of his ship and around to pick up his helmet. Engines are already starting to hum to life around them, at this point he could say almost anything and no one would possibly overhear it except for R2. ]

I'd say that at least you won't have to go out of your way to avoid me for a while, but this won't take long.

[ One way or another. ]

[alderaans]

[ It becomes uncomfortably clear to her once she's expressed that sentiment that she doesn't know what else to say to him — words of reassurance, maybe, that would make it clear that he has her every confidence that he'll make it there and back unscathed, that the mission will be a success with him leading it, that their mission commanders wouldn't have given this to him if they didn't think he could handle it.

And when he looks over her, she draws in a soft breath, because this was exactly what she was worried about, what would happen once they stopped talking, once she didn't have the words to throw up in between them, to give her a sense of control over the situation when she feels it distinctly slipping through her fingers. But then, nearly to her relief, he diverts away from her, ducking beneath the ship, and as some of the others begin to whir, she knows it'll be almost impossible for anyone to overhear them unless they happen to be standing nearby. ]

Don't —

[ Annoyance spikes higher and she rolls her eyes, bending low to follow him to the other side of the x-wing, stopping short when she realizes he's only picking up his helmet and realizing she's put herself much closer to him than she wants to be, can afford to be. The wing itself blocks them from the view of most of the pilots already sitting in their cockpit, making the necessary final checks before flying out of the hangar. ]

If I didn't know better, I'd say you were almost trying to get a rise out of me.

[ And her voice is laden with irritation at having risen to the obvious bait yet again; she steps back, bracing one hand against the side of the ship, peering up at him and resisting the sudden impulse to reach up and sweep away a stray curl of hair from where it's fallen across his forehead. ]

Don't talk like that.

[withinreach]

Like what? Like you can't stand the sight of me anymore?

[ Poe didn't need to stick around long enough to see the relief on her face, or to hear the way she'll inevitably lets out a breath when he breaks that tension in the air between them rather than lean on it the way he did last time. It's partly practicality, he doesn't necessarily have much time to stand around talking - he's got maybe five minutes to spare, at best - but it would be hard to argue that he's not being at least a little intentionally difficult about it too. He definitely couldn't say that it's not kind of gratifying to have her chasing after him for a change, after intentionally dodging him for the past week.

But before he's even turned back to her he's realized that he doesn't want to leave in a huff after a fight any more than she does. It wouldn't feel right, regardless of how confident he is that he'll be back before the day's out. He can't help but smile anyway, one eyebrow arched at her just at the fact that she's followed him into an even more compromising position than before. No one could see what they're actually doing under here, let alone what they're saying to each other, so it's just as well that it can't last long. It would have people talking.

His helmet's propped under one arm, leaving one gloved hand free to reach up to her face — not in a prelude to something else, not to pull her or push her anywhere, just lingering long enough to settle his fingers against her cheek, his expression sobering.

Sometimes he's reminded of just how young she really is, underneath the official, no nonsense Rebellion leader there's a young woman who had to grow up way too quickly, who's lost so much and still sacrifices what she has left to the cause. No one underestimates how strong she is, but sometimes - often, lately - he wonders how lonely she must be, despite fighting so hard to keep everyone at an arm's length. Maybe as hard as he's been fighting to get closer to her despite that.

He won't hold her hostage here. He'll drop his hand before it gets awkward. ]

When I get back we can have that talk.

[alderaans]

I never –

[ It's so damn easy for him to do that, isn't it, to look at her and know exactly which buttons to push to get her riled up — and she hates that about him, because by the time she realizes that he's only done it to distract her from something else his expression is already splitting into that telltale grin, something boyish and mischievous in equal measure, something that manages to settle in the pit of her stomach and make itself known when she'd really rather it not.

So she bites back the sentence before it can spill out, before she can lose her temper and say something she'll regret; there are too many of those between them already and she wouldn't be able to bear adding more on before he's set to fly out of here. Regardless of his confidence, the sort of behavior that borders on arrogance, they both know the dangers involved here and to pretend otherwise would be irresponsible.

But it's in that same instant that he lifts a hand to her face, and even through the fabric of his glove she thinks she might be able to perceive the warmth of his skin, just for a fraction of a second — but it's gone almost as suddenly as it had been initiated, and she withdraws from him, instinctively crossing her arms over her chest as she puts as wide a berth between herself and the ship as possible knowing that he'll have his checks to perform before leaving.

Once she turns around to leave the hangar, she doesn't glance back one last time.

Of course she has to monitor the situation, do her damnedest not to let her face reveal anything surrounded by the other generals — but it's been advised that any and all communication should be restricted until the pilots are out of Imperial space. The last thing they need is for one of their messages to be intercepted and for a Star Destroyer to follow them all the way back. But she refuses to let anyone see how this mission is turning her insides into impossible knots, right up until the commander's voice breaks through hours later to confirm they've retrieved the asset, and then she releases the breath she hadn't even been aware she was holding in.

She doesn't make an appearance in the hangar to welcome him and the others back; she figures he might need time to rest before his debriefing, and so she busies herself in the command center until the buzz of voices alerts her to the possibility that he's entered the room. Still, she doesn't turn around, making a point not to until she can practically sense him at her back. ]

Congratulations, Commander. [ Her voice is clipped, formal, a subtle incline of her head. ] I hear the mission was a great success. [ As though she hadn't been tracking him the entire time. ]

[withinreach]

[ 'Rest' isn't anywhere in Poe's plans for the evening upon their return. Granted it's rarely in his plans period, since he finds ways to keep himself busy practically every waking moment, but even if he was prone to idle time it would have had to wait. There's celebration of the success, of course, and the requisite chain of reports to be made, as well as a tension that hangs in the air anytime they have a scuffle with the Imperials. They're always careful not to lead any trackers back to the base, but no matter how cautious they are there have been incidents where things go wrong, so they'll be on higher alert for any signs of a pursuit for a while yet. And as if the Empire didn't have enough reasons to want to find them and crush them already the fact that they have such a high level defector among their ranks spilling more classified information by the minute isn't something they'd treat lightly.

Poe's as eager as anyone to get all of those details, but he knows he'll have to wait. Intelligence will be busy with him for a while, he'll have his chance to catch up later, probably tomorrow, and in the meantime he has his own routine to go through. Not that it necessarily would have stopped him from trying to slide into that meeting anyway if not for the fact that he has something else to follow up on. Something that's been on his mind for a lot longer than this mission has, which — he hopes — isn't going to slip away from them now. As long as they've been skirting around things, as long as Leia's been avoiding him and he's been increasingly frustrated over it, it does feel like something has finally shifted. And he's not letting that go, not now.

She's not fooling him either. He knows that she would have been waiting with held breath even if he didn't have anything to do with this, that's just how passionate she is about the Rebellion. He's the same way on those rare occasions when he's not directly involved in something big like this. He doesn't like that tone either, the forced detachment of it which sounds a little too formal even for the command center, but he's not going to bristle at it. Instead he matches it with a similar one of his own. ]

I can't take all the credit, but thank you. [ He's not looking for accolades, though there are plenty of people who would be happy to give them to him for this one. Especially not right now. He's already gotten the celebratory embraces in with his squadron, everything else can wait. ] I was actually going to offer you my own report, if you'd prefer to hear it in person.

[ Preferably somewhere without a crowd of people listening in. Where she might actually allow herself to look at him while she's talking to him. ]

[alderaans]

[ She knows he'll be kept busy, knows the necessary procedure when it comes to any sort of mission like the one he'd been on; it isn't as though everyone isn't already aware of how everything had turned out, but there are necessary routines that have to be followed and she doesn't want her presence to represent any kind of distraction. Just as soon as she harbors the thought, even fleetingly, she tries to dismiss it in her mind; she shouldn't even be thinking of herself in those terms, as anyone who would hold that much significance to him, especially when she's made very purposeful attempts not to let herself develop any sort of deeper attachment.

It isn't personal, that's what she tries to remind herself; she shouldn't be getting too close to anyone, not in her position, not when there are already so many eyes on her and she feels the weight of that expectation on her shoulders. Perhaps it's because she's a daughter of Alderaan, one of the last surviving members of a world now lost to the Empire, and she knows how beloved her father was, how respected, so trying to earn that same respect — earn it, not settle for fawning accolades or empty praise — is something that matters a great deal to her.

And it could take being caught with one hotshot pilot in particular for her to lose all that she's fought to achieve for herself.

Her nod is slight, respectful, eyes betraying no type of intimate confidence even if she never doubted his ability to see it all through; there are always variables that can never be predicted, but Poe Dameron's skill had never been in question. Her breath catches slightly at his words; she knows what he's trying to do, and therein lies the danger, but even as she recognizes that fact she feels a creeping sense of futility in resisting it. At the very least, she owes him a conversation, and it isn't a subject they should be discussing with so many eyes on them. ]

Yes, that would be... acceptable. [ She steps away from the console she's been monitoring, though when she walks forward and past him, a brief glance spared for his face, she's close enough for her arm to brush his, a whisper of fabric. Whatever the expression on her face now, it appears to be enough to prompt everyone else to give her a wide berth as she walks into the adjoining situation room without breaking stride, finally pivoting to face him and only raising her voice once he's stepped inside and closed the door. ]

Well, I hope you're proud of yourself, Commander. [ She doesn't even know why she's angry, frustrated, tone leaving her more snappish than she intends as she leans toward him, asserting her own space. Maybe it's the lack of subtlety in getting her alone that rankles her now, since everyone is likely forming their own theories about what's currently going on in this room. ]

[withinreach]

[ Of all of the emotions that Poe might have been expecting to come at him once Leia's dropped the facade of a completely composed official, anger wasn't one of them. At least not so heated and up front. Personally if he'd been choosing private meeting places he would have picked something farther away, maybe not immediately, but would have have really made much of a difference with any of it? Probably not. But of course she won't be surprised when that aggressive movement toward him doesn't make him flinch, and he's never been one to retreat, not in battle and not when he's got an angry princess very much in his personal space. The confusion in his eyes is brief, followed by a frown as he gazes back at her with an intent look, as if trying to piece together where this puts them versus where they were before he left. Or at least where he thought they were, which he feels like he might have to recalculate now since this seems more like a step back than any kind of progress.

She's used to seeing how stubborn he is. Resilient. Persistent. His own temper is on a much longer fuse, though he'll bicker with the best of them when he's feeling stressed and frustrated, but it's rare that he's flustered, the way he seems to effortlessly fluster her. But maybe she's managed it this time, though rather than rise to her level he's feeling unusually sobered by the prospect of having to let this go, of maybe having to admit that he can't break through those remaining barriers between them, at the very least not for the foreseeable future, which is something he didn't think he would ever even consider.

How he feels about her isn't something he can change. He wouldn't want to. But at what point does he have to admit he's pushed too far?

It's not a feeling he likes, being vulnerable. Not knowing exactly what he's doing and where he's going. Honestly he hadn't given it much thought while he was out there. That was just what he had to do on a mission like that, he had to put all of his focus on what they needed to do. There was too much on the line not to.

That moment holds for what feels like a long time, long enough for those thoughts to go flickering through his mind, also long enough for him to appreciate once more that Leia's got really beautiful eyes, and then he's lifting his hands — in defense? placating? he's not even sure — but they come very close to skimming along her arms before they ultimately settle back down and he takes a step back, exhaling a breath that he wasn't quite holding. And then another, until he's leaning back against the nearest console. ]

Right now? Not particularly.

[alderaans]

[ Even as she elects to round on him this way, she knows deep down that all of these feelings — confusing, conflicting, a complicated tangle that she hasn't even really given herself time or opportunity to parse through — are being terribly misplaced, wielded at him in a way that he hasn't asked for and doesn't truly deserve. But that doesn't stop her emotions from spiking anyway, worry and concern manifesting instead as something more intense, frustration leading to something much more tempestuous. She has always been a somewhat more passionate individual, occasionally to her own detriment, and the last few hours she's been letting her thoughts brew inside of her for too long. This is just the way they happen to come out.

And yet she feels emboldened, empowered, by the fact that he concedes ground to her — when he lifts his hands she half-expects that he's going to try to reach out and touch her, and she can't say in that exact moment that she wouldn't let him, but instead he retreats, backing up a few paces until he's leaning against the console behind him. The room itself is dark, only a few incidental lights turned on in order to make it easier to view the illuminated holomaps projected from the table in the center, and even now she can barely see his face— which she finds she doesn't like, so stepping forward towards the more shadowed corner he's currently inhabiting feels like the easiest way to remedy that. ]

Well — [ She isn't expecting that either, and she falters for a second in her attempt to maintain composure, some of that incendiary heat disappearing from her words as her shoulders subtly slump. ] — good.

[ They're standing close enough to each other now that she knows she can lower her voice, even if the intensity of her tone hasn't diminished; if anyone expects to be able to hear their conversation on the other side of the door, they'll be very disappointed. ] I can't exactly coddle you out there, do you understand? If anyone even so much as has the theory that I could be showing any sort of favoritism... [ She trails off, looking up at him, and for a moment, the conflict is there, evident in her expression, like she'd rather just have the choice be made for her rather than it resting on her shoulders, before she tries to affect more firmness. ] So. You said you had something for me?

[withinreach]

[ Leia would know better than anyone that Poe Dameron does not back down once he's got his mind set on something. Retreating in general isn't something he does, unless it's excessively obvious that there's no other choice. And many times he's skirted close to outright insubordination when he's convinced he's doing the right thing. So he's less than surprised that she would take such a seemingly small gesture for the significant one that it is. Letting her get all that out without trying to take control of the conversation and divert it the way he wants to, even with the best of intentions, is a kind of concession that he so rarely gives anyone, regardless of whether or not they outrank him. It's not the same as admitting defeat, but it means a lot, coming from him. Not least of all because he's chosen this rather than being forced to it.

It's rare enough on its own that Poe's thinking and without talking, though that's exactly what he's doing as he takes in Leia's reaction. This would be the best time to throw ultimatums at him, maybe to slam the door shut on this whole thing that they've been dancing around and give them both some kind of conclusion on that front, but... she doesn't. In what what she doesn't say speaks far louder than what she isn't telling him, as she slides right back in to close the distance between them, the same way he has many times before. It almost makes him smile, just at the reversal of it all. Not that he ever thought that this was one-sided in the first place. They wouldn't be here at all if it was just some passing crush of his.

It isn't. He's had plenty of those, he knows the difference. ]

I don't expect you to coddle me. I don't expect you to treat me any differently than the other officers out there. We both have a job to do, you know I take that as seriously as you do.

[ This time when he moves his hand his fingers are settling on her cheek as he leans forward, almost evenly at her eye level like this, but his tone softens just a bit, though his eyes are as intense as ever, even in the dim light. She didn't shy away from the potential moments ago, he doubts that she's going to now either. ]

This isn't about any of that. It's just about you and me.

[ She knew this was coming, she practically asked for it, and given the opportunity? Of course he's going to kiss her. And he's going to make it a damn good kiss too, since he's not sure when, or even if, they'll have the chance for another one. If this really is going to be it then that's all the more reason to show her exactly what he's been holding back all this time, though he couldn't have made it anything less than warm and passionate even if he were inclined to try to restrain himself. ]

[alderaans]

[ It hasn't left her head that he'd intended for them to have a conversation, although she hadn't necessarily distinguished the one they're having now as being the same one he'd mentioned before, that this would involve any of the things he had apparently felt the need to bring up with any significance before leaving for a covert, relatively dangerous mission. And rather than wait for him to offer any kind of clarity, she'd chosen to jump in first, that tendency towards directness and assertion not always serving her well — and definitely not in this particular case.

But she also hasn't specifically picked up on the fact that he hadn't interrupted her this time, and anticipating that he'd have some kind of retort for her and not getting it had taken her somewhat by surprise. ]

You know I can't... [ Her voice trails off even more significantly when he reaches up to touch her, initiating that contact between them, and instinctively, she knows she shouldn't permit it, but something inside her doesn't protest strongly enough, doesn't move to nudge his hand away. She gets as far as opening her mouth to say something else before finding it completely, thoroughly occupied with his, and any other attempt at words is lost, a whimper snagging in her throat before she can stop it.

She's already reaching to touch him, arms sliding around to welcome him closer, one hand shoving fingers up and into the thick, dark curls of his hair, and truly, she has no hope of not responding now with anything but equal passion, equal need, lips parting against his in a blatant attempt to deepen the kiss too.

Everything she's been so staunchly denying herself rockets to the forefront of her awareness in an instant, and she's almost overwhelmed by it, by him, but she doesn't submit to it so much as refuse to shy away, doesn't yield so much as challenge. She won't simply stand here and let herself be kissed, not without giving as good as she's getting. ]