Fic: Perfectly Normal 5/7, PG
Title: Perfectly Normal
Rating: PG
Category: humor, romance
Timeframe: New Republic; one week after VotF
Summary: Luke and Mara discover that being a couple includes facing unexpected challenges.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Outside, Mara was grateful for the lack of a chill in the air. Still, the warm air also served to make her feel even more sticky, and it made her skin crawl more than the arachnids had, while her dress slapped her legs damply with each move, and the broken shoe naturally kept her off-balance anyway. Ordinarily she'd have been fuming at this point, but right now she was far more concerned with Luke's reaction - or more accurately, his lack of one.
The walk back to the speeder was a silent one, save for the uneven rhythm of her mismatched shoes. They reached the speeder without running into any more lizards and with only a few passersby stopping to stare as they sloshed past, and Luke opened the passenger side door for her, still eerily calm. Mara hesitated.
"Your upholstery, Luke--"
"It'll clean," he said. "Besides, I don't happen to have any towels in the storage area."
Regretfully, Mara seated herself, wincing as juice dripped steadily off of her and onto the speeder's smooth leather seat. Luke closed her door and came around to the driver's side, climbing into the speeder without seeming to notice the rivulets of juice that slid off him.
"Your apartment, then mine," Luke said as he started the speeder. "Any other ideas for dinner?"
"Not yet," Mara said, eyeing him as she gathered her hair behind her head so the wet strands wouldn't slap against her face in the wind. "But it'll be your apartment, then mine. Yours is closer."
Luke looked over at her, a slight crack appearing in his composure. "No," he said. "You shouldn't spend more time in wet clothes than you have to."
Mara took a breath, suppressing the instinctive urge to snap that she didn't need protecting. "And you should?" she asked, hoping she sounded reasonable. "Besides, I can change out of the wet clothes at your place. You have an extra tunic and pants I could borrow until we get to my place, don't you? Better that than you trying to fit into one of my other dresses if we went to my place first."
Luke snorted, suddenly looking much more like himself, and Mara took another breath, this time in relief. The calmness that had settled over him in the restaurant was too akin to the tension of a tightly coiled spring; it made her worry about what would happen if it was suddenly released.
"Okay, my place," Luke relented. He looked over at her again. "I'm sorry, Mara. I really thought that place would be better than that."
Mara sighed. "You know, it probably is when we're not there." She smiled wryly at Luke. "We don't seem to have very good luck at this being normal thing."
"We don't, do we?" Luke shook his head and returned his attention to his piloting, smoothly shifting into another lane of traffic to avoid a driver going even faster than him. Mara hoped no traffic officers happened across their path; she doubted that a speeding citation would improve Luke's mood.
She leaned over to kiss Luke's cheek. "As a wise man once told me, normal is overrated."
Luke glanced sideways at her and smiled. Mara slid a little closer to him on the seat and rested her head on his shoulder - although she continued to keep an eye out for stray traffic officers, just in case.
For a wonder, the fifteenth level turbolift was functioning properly tonight. They reached Luke's level without incident, though the cleaning droid would undoubtedly be miffed at the sticky trail they left in the hallway. Luke took her hand as they walked toward his door. "You still have your heart set on dancing? Because I'd be happy to share my shower if you wanted."
"Aren't you thoughtful," Mara said, amused. Still, the idea had more than a little appeal. This night was hardly going as planned; perhaps it would be best to cut their losses and spend the rest of the evening away from everyone else, normal be damned.
She opened her mouth to say so just as Luke's apartment door slid open, but her words turned into a strangled yelp. On the other side of the door stood a short, gray-skinned, needle-toothed alien.
"Barkhimkh," Luke half greeted, half inquired, the tightening of his hand on Mara's the only outward sign of his surprise. Through their bond, though, Mara could feel that he had been startled as well, which made her feel slightly better about her own momentary lapse. Slightly. "What are you doing here?"
"Master Skywalker," Barkhimkh said, with that grave air all Noghri seemed to have. "Mistress Jade. You have met with some accident?" he added, suddenly uncertain. "Do you need medical attention?"
Luke glanced wryly down at himself, and his jacket covered with splotchy dark red stains. "No, thank you. It's juice. Don't ask."
Barkhimkh inclined his head solemnly. "I shall not, then." He stood aside to let them enter, then continued. "The secondsons and seconddaughter of Vader require your presence."
Luke sighed, his eyes drifting shut resignedly.
"This is a joke, right?" Mara demanded. "Did someone put you up to this?'
Reading Noghri expressions was tricky, but Mara thought that Barkhimkh looked faintly puzzled. "It is no joke," he answered. "The Mal'ary'ush is unavailable, and her translating droid is - perhaps not the best choice of guardian."
"Are they hurt?" Luke asked, eyes still closed.
"No," Barkhimkh said consideringly, "but I believe the Mal'ary'ush would not be pleased to see the results of their actions."
"They're eleven and ten years old," Mara said, turning to Luke disbelievingly. "How much trouble could they possibly get in?"
Luke opened his eyes at that, turning an expression on her that was simultaneously exasperated and amused. "Sweetheart, most children don't grow up with the incredible level of self-discipline that you did. I routinely got into a tremendous amount of trouble at that age. So did Leia. If Barkhimkh thinks we should make an appearance, I think we'd better listen to him."
Mara crossed an arm over her chest, the elbow of her other arm resting on it as she leaned her forehead against the heel of her hand. "All right," she said with a sigh. "Let's go baby-sit."
Luke gathered a change of clothes for them both as Mara ducked into the refresher to take off her soaked gown. Forgoing the shower, she scrubbed at the sticky residue for a few minutes until she felt moderately clean again, then stuck her head out of the refresher. "Clothes?"
Sitting on the edge of the bed, his jacket thrown over the back of a chair, Luke was busy taking off his boots. He paused long enough to toss a small bundle at her, which she caught smoothly. "Thanks," she said, and ducked back in to pull them on. Luke wasn't a particularly large man, having the shorter, more compact physique of many fighter pilots, but he was still larger than she was. Even belted tightly, the pants were baggy on her, and the tunic hung to mid-thigh. Mara evaluated her reflection for a moment, then shrugged. Fashion forward it was not, but then, she wasn't especially interested in impressing the Solo kids, Threepio, or the Noghri, either.
She exited the refresher, passing Luke, who was now shirtless and holding his own bundle of clothes. "Looks good on you," he said. He winked, then disappeared into the refresher himself. Mara rolled her eyes fondly, then went to rummage in his closet.
By the time Luke emerged from the refresher, Mara had decided that, unlike the clothes, none of his boots or shoes would do. They were much too large; she'd never be able to move properly. "Can you grab my shoes?" she asked before Luke was more than a few steps beyond the refresher door. He turned back automatically, but frowned as he handed them to her.
"You're going to put those on again?" he asked. "Surely that can't be comfortable."
"More comfortable than trying to fit in anything sized for you, dear," Mara said grimly, strapping them back on. Now she really was a picture, Luke's clothes draping voluminously on her and paired with broken high-heeled dress shoes. She stood - lopsidedly - and held her arms wide. "Still look good on me?"
"You'd make anything look good," Luke answered with quick gallantry, but his eyes were doubtful.
Mara grinned. "Good answer. Let's go, before Barkhimkh works himself into whatever passes for a state with Noghri. Maybe I'll borrow some shoes out of Leia's closet. It's the least she's going to owe me for this."
"Still a cold-hearted business woman," Luke said, taking her hand. His palm was warm against hers, if still slightly sticky. "One of the many reasons I love you."
Mara squeezed his hand in return. "You do have strange preferences, Skywalker." She thought wistfully of their missed dinner, and added, "You don't suppose there's anything to eat at Leia's place, do you?"
"We'll find something," Luke promised. He snagged a towel from the refresher - "Upholstery," he explained in response to her quizzical look - and they headed back to the speeder, Barkhimkh in tow.
Rating: PG
Category: humor, romance
Timeframe: New Republic; one week after VotF
Summary: Luke and Mara discover that being a couple includes facing unexpected challenges.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Outside, Mara was grateful for the lack of a chill in the air. Still, the warm air also served to make her feel even more sticky, and it made her skin crawl more than the arachnids had, while her dress slapped her legs damply with each move, and the broken shoe naturally kept her off-balance anyway. Ordinarily she'd have been fuming at this point, but right now she was far more concerned with Luke's reaction - or more accurately, his lack of one.
The walk back to the speeder was a silent one, save for the uneven rhythm of her mismatched shoes. They reached the speeder without running into any more lizards and with only a few passersby stopping to stare as they sloshed past, and Luke opened the passenger side door for her, still eerily calm. Mara hesitated.
"Your upholstery, Luke--"
"It'll clean," he said. "Besides, I don't happen to have any towels in the storage area."
Regretfully, Mara seated herself, wincing as juice dripped steadily off of her and onto the speeder's smooth leather seat. Luke closed her door and came around to the driver's side, climbing into the speeder without seeming to notice the rivulets of juice that slid off him.
"Your apartment, then mine," Luke said as he started the speeder. "Any other ideas for dinner?"
"Not yet," Mara said, eyeing him as she gathered her hair behind her head so the wet strands wouldn't slap against her face in the wind. "But it'll be your apartment, then mine. Yours is closer."
Luke looked over at her, a slight crack appearing in his composure. "No," he said. "You shouldn't spend more time in wet clothes than you have to."
Mara took a breath, suppressing the instinctive urge to snap that she didn't need protecting. "And you should?" she asked, hoping she sounded reasonable. "Besides, I can change out of the wet clothes at your place. You have an extra tunic and pants I could borrow until we get to my place, don't you? Better that than you trying to fit into one of my other dresses if we went to my place first."
Luke snorted, suddenly looking much more like himself, and Mara took another breath, this time in relief. The calmness that had settled over him in the restaurant was too akin to the tension of a tightly coiled spring; it made her worry about what would happen if it was suddenly released.
"Okay, my place," Luke relented. He looked over at her again. "I'm sorry, Mara. I really thought that place would be better than that."
Mara sighed. "You know, it probably is when we're not there." She smiled wryly at Luke. "We don't seem to have very good luck at this being normal thing."
"We don't, do we?" Luke shook his head and returned his attention to his piloting, smoothly shifting into another lane of traffic to avoid a driver going even faster than him. Mara hoped no traffic officers happened across their path; she doubted that a speeding citation would improve Luke's mood.
She leaned over to kiss Luke's cheek. "As a wise man once told me, normal is overrated."
Luke glanced sideways at her and smiled. Mara slid a little closer to him on the seat and rested her head on his shoulder - although she continued to keep an eye out for stray traffic officers, just in case.
For a wonder, the fifteenth level turbolift was functioning properly tonight. They reached Luke's level without incident, though the cleaning droid would undoubtedly be miffed at the sticky trail they left in the hallway. Luke took her hand as they walked toward his door. "You still have your heart set on dancing? Because I'd be happy to share my shower if you wanted."
"Aren't you thoughtful," Mara said, amused. Still, the idea had more than a little appeal. This night was hardly going as planned; perhaps it would be best to cut their losses and spend the rest of the evening away from everyone else, normal be damned.
She opened her mouth to say so just as Luke's apartment door slid open, but her words turned into a strangled yelp. On the other side of the door stood a short, gray-skinned, needle-toothed alien.
"Barkhimkh," Luke half greeted, half inquired, the tightening of his hand on Mara's the only outward sign of his surprise. Through their bond, though, Mara could feel that he had been startled as well, which made her feel slightly better about her own momentary lapse. Slightly. "What are you doing here?"
"Master Skywalker," Barkhimkh said, with that grave air all Noghri seemed to have. "Mistress Jade. You have met with some accident?" he added, suddenly uncertain. "Do you need medical attention?"
Luke glanced wryly down at himself, and his jacket covered with splotchy dark red stains. "No, thank you. It's juice. Don't ask."
Barkhimkh inclined his head solemnly. "I shall not, then." He stood aside to let them enter, then continued. "The secondsons and seconddaughter of Vader require your presence."
Luke sighed, his eyes drifting shut resignedly.
"This is a joke, right?" Mara demanded. "Did someone put you up to this?'
Reading Noghri expressions was tricky, but Mara thought that Barkhimkh looked faintly puzzled. "It is no joke," he answered. "The Mal'ary'ush is unavailable, and her translating droid is - perhaps not the best choice of guardian."
"Are they hurt?" Luke asked, eyes still closed.
"No," Barkhimkh said consideringly, "but I believe the Mal'ary'ush would not be pleased to see the results of their actions."
"They're eleven and ten years old," Mara said, turning to Luke disbelievingly. "How much trouble could they possibly get in?"
Luke opened his eyes at that, turning an expression on her that was simultaneously exasperated and amused. "Sweetheart, most children don't grow up with the incredible level of self-discipline that you did. I routinely got into a tremendous amount of trouble at that age. So did Leia. If Barkhimkh thinks we should make an appearance, I think we'd better listen to him."
Mara crossed an arm over her chest, the elbow of her other arm resting on it as she leaned her forehead against the heel of her hand. "All right," she said with a sigh. "Let's go baby-sit."
Luke gathered a change of clothes for them both as Mara ducked into the refresher to take off her soaked gown. Forgoing the shower, she scrubbed at the sticky residue for a few minutes until she felt moderately clean again, then stuck her head out of the refresher. "Clothes?"
Sitting on the edge of the bed, his jacket thrown over the back of a chair, Luke was busy taking off his boots. He paused long enough to toss a small bundle at her, which she caught smoothly. "Thanks," she said, and ducked back in to pull them on. Luke wasn't a particularly large man, having the shorter, more compact physique of many fighter pilots, but he was still larger than she was. Even belted tightly, the pants were baggy on her, and the tunic hung to mid-thigh. Mara evaluated her reflection for a moment, then shrugged. Fashion forward it was not, but then, she wasn't especially interested in impressing the Solo kids, Threepio, or the Noghri, either.
She exited the refresher, passing Luke, who was now shirtless and holding his own bundle of clothes. "Looks good on you," he said. He winked, then disappeared into the refresher himself. Mara rolled her eyes fondly, then went to rummage in his closet.
By the time Luke emerged from the refresher, Mara had decided that, unlike the clothes, none of his boots or shoes would do. They were much too large; she'd never be able to move properly. "Can you grab my shoes?" she asked before Luke was more than a few steps beyond the refresher door. He turned back automatically, but frowned as he handed them to her.
"You're going to put those on again?" he asked. "Surely that can't be comfortable."
"More comfortable than trying to fit in anything sized for you, dear," Mara said grimly, strapping them back on. Now she really was a picture, Luke's clothes draping voluminously on her and paired with broken high-heeled dress shoes. She stood - lopsidedly - and held her arms wide. "Still look good on me?"
"You'd make anything look good," Luke answered with quick gallantry, but his eyes were doubtful.
Mara grinned. "Good answer. Let's go, before Barkhimkh works himself into whatever passes for a state with Noghri. Maybe I'll borrow some shoes out of Leia's closet. It's the least she's going to owe me for this."
"Still a cold-hearted business woman," Luke said, taking her hand. His palm was warm against hers, if still slightly sticky. "One of the many reasons I love you."
Mara squeezed his hand in return. "You do have strange preferences, Skywalker." She thought wistfully of their missed dinner, and added, "You don't suppose there's anything to eat at Leia's place, do you?"
"We'll find something," Luke promised. He snagged a towel from the refresher - "Upholstery," he explained in response to her quizzical look - and they headed back to the speeder, Barkhimkh in tow.