* The Game Begins *
(continued)
by Marjorie Joyce
"So then I said, 'I don't have to work for a nerfherder
like you,' and I quit!" Han finished his story, breaking out into laughter
with Luke as they sat at the hologame table in the hold of the
Millennium Falcon after dinner. Chewbacca shook his head in mock
disdain at his captain.
"Han," Luke managed between laughs and shook his head as the Corellian
reached for his glass, "I can't imagine you working for anyone anyway, so
it's just as well."
"I know," Han agreed, smiling at himself as he took a swig from his
glass, "I ain't exactly your model employee."
*You're not exactly a model manager, either,* Chewie added, smiling
with Luke.
"Laugh it up, fuzzball," Han smirked. "I get stuff done...in my own
special way."
Chewbacca reached a long arm for the pitcher in the middle of the table
and topped off everyone's glasses.
"Speaking of your 'own special way,' Han," Luke began, "I was wondering
if you could...well...." he trailed off.
"What, kid?" Han asked, leaning forward in concern.
"I was wondering if you would tone it down with Leia."
"Whaddya mean?!" said Han in instant self-defense, then paused and
added with a sly voice, "Can't take the heat, farmboy?"
"I'm the one who comes from the desert, hotshot," Luke replied. Amused,
Chewie seconded that fact. "No, I'm thinking of Leia," Luke continued.
"It's just that--well, she had a scare today, and I think she could use a
little TLC."
"TLC?!" Han repeated. "I've been offering her that for a while now, but
she's not takin'. Looks like it's up to you, ace," he said with a leer and
as little concern in his voice as possible.
"I'm not talking about that kind of TLC," Luke said, shaking his head.
"As if you expect your kind of offers to actually be tempting to a woman
like her, anyway...C'mon--be serious for a minute, here."
Luke could see the wheels that comment had set spinning in Han's head,
so he continued. "She just doesn't have the energy these days to deal with
you the way you both seem to prefer."
Han sat silent for another moment. "We're just havin' fun, is all," he
finally said with a wave of his hand, eyeing Chewbacca for confirmation.
He got none.
"It may be fun for you, but I'm not sure how much fun it is for her,"
Luke said. "I think she feels obligated to fight with you. I think if
you'd be nice to her, you'd find she'd be nice to you," he finished, not
sure where those thoughts had come from, and wondering how much he had
just hurt his own chances with the Princess in the process of expressing
them.
"Look," Han said, shifting in his seat in growing discomfort, "what
happened to her today, anyway? I saw her running to base this afternoon
like she was running for her life."
"She told me she had a vision...a vision of Vader in the waves out
there."
Han sat back, exchanged glances with Chewbacca, and frowned.
"I don't suppose that evil bastard will ever get out of her head," Han
said after a long moment, keeping his curses for the Empire and every
Imperial that had a hand in Leia's torture on the Death Star to himself.
*She is strong, but only time--and care--can heal wounds of the mind
and heart,* Chewbacca said with a knowing look to Han. Luke nodded.
"So don't mention this to her, OK? Just...try to be nice to her, would
ya? She could use it," Luke asked.
"Thanks, kid--I know," Han said, the realization--and a strange new
feeling--just beginning to grow within him. "I know."
In a gold-trimmed white dress uniform, Leia stepped
into her quarters, let the door slide close behind her, then leaned
against it and blew out a breath.
"Glad that's over with," she said to herself, unclasping her waist-
length white cape and twirling it onto her cot. As it floated down so did
she on to the bed, reaching over to the sleepstand to check for messages
on her commlink. She didn't mind one iota having to leave that nuisance
behind for officers' events.
"Princess, come on over to the Falcon after dinner if you
like...that is, if you can tear yourself away from Straate's charms,"
Luke's voice brimmed with laughter.
"OK, farmboy," Leia said and smiled to herself, clicking the commlink
off. "I'm in need of a little charm right about now."
She began to undo the gold buttons of her double-breasted jacket, then
stopped. 'It's too much work to get this off,' she thought to herself with
a sigh, looking down past the jacket to the long straight skirt and the
row of gold buttons that ran down the left seam.
'I'll just...' she thought, walking over to the mirror near the door
and inspecting the figure eight of braids at the nape of her neck, "...let
this down..." she said, pulling out enough gold pins so that the braids
fell down to her waist, "...and undo this," she continued, brushing the
braids out so that her hair flowed in a ponytail down the front of her
jacket.
'Would you like this, Luke?' she asked herself as she stared into the
mirror. 'Should I care?...Maybe I need to make time for a relationship in
my life, some time for some niceness. Are you the one, Luke?'
He was always nice to her. And she did care about him. Yet as she
searched her feelings she knew she wasn't in love with him. But she needed
him; deep inside, there was a fundamental necessity for him to be in her
life. What did it mean?
Her gaze rose in the mirror to the tapestry above her bed.
'Han. I don't want to even think about him,' she frowned. 'If only we
didn't fight all the time. If only he weren't so rude, and crude, and....'
she trailed off, throwing her brush on the cot. He was handsome enough,
she admitted. But a relationship with him could only be--"interesting," a
part of her began--"annoying," the other part finished. If only he'd be
nice to her. From the mirror, the tapestry mocked her. Well, his getting
that for her was nice. And it belied an understanding of her he preferred
not to let on.
"Oh, dammit, I'm just going," she said, turning from the mirror and
marching out of her quarters toward the hangar.
"G'night, Luke," Han said, looking down the
Falcon's ramp as the Jedi-in-training headed for his quarters.
"Tomorrow we work on the navboards?" Luke turned back to ask.
"You bet," Han said with a wink, fingering the control to close the
ramp for the night.
*Han, get your useless self over here. I need another hand,* Chewbacca
howled from the ceiling compartment in the hold. The wookiee had started
digging around in there once Han and Luke's conversation had turned to
podracing. *Those cars are too small for me to even think about,* Chewie
had always thought about the subject.
"Charming to the last, ain't he?" Han said with his lopsided smile,
hefting a thumb toward the hold.
"Good night, Han," Luke said with a smile of his own, laughing as he
walked away.
Han leaned a forearm on the ramp jamb. Something about Luke's smile
reminded him of...Leia. 'She's got a lot of spirit,' he thought to
himself, recalling the words he had said when Luke first asked him about
her. 'And a lot more,' he added, recalling some of her latest insults with
a smile. 'She's quick, and bright, and pretty funny--if she's in the right
mood.'
Then there was her voice, soft and expressive one moment, steely and
sharp the next. And the hair. He couldn't count the number of times he'd
imagined it down and flowing freely....
*Han, have you lost you hearing along with your mind?! Get over here!*
Chewie howled again.
With a grunt, Han dropped his arm down from the entrance. "Coming,
dear," he sang, striding toward the hold.
From a distance Leia appraised the Millennium
Falcon. Dull and battered, it didn't look a bit better than it had the
first time she saw it docked on the Death Star. But it did seem more
inviting somehow. It had gotten her out of more than one tight spot over
the past two years, that was for sure, so she had more respect for it now,
anyway--no matter what she said to its captain about it.
At the foot of the Falcon's ramp she hesitated. 'It's pretty
late,' she thought. 'They're probably getting ready to bunk down by
now...but the ramp is still open....'
Just then Han returned to the entrance to close the ramp. As he put his
hand on the control he looked out to see a light figure in dress uniform
and stiletto boots silhouetted against the black of the hangar. White. It
had to be Leia, he thought, but the uniform and the height made him a
little unsure.
"That you, Princess?" he called down the ramp, squinting for a better
view. "To what do we owe the honor of this officious visit? Come to shut
us down for playing sabacc, serving liquor, and otherwise corrupting young
minds?"
The figure stepped forward into the light of the ramp, and the face of
Princess Leia came into view, along with a wave of brown hair streaming
down the front of her uniform. Han's heart stopped. She was stunning.
To his further delight, her petite mouth turned up in a promising
smile. "I was hoping to avail myself of two of those services, if you're
still open for business," she said.
Han laughed, biting back the numerous suggestive responses that leapt
to mind. 'Be nice,' he reminded himself. "For royalty, we're open 24-7,"
he said, bowing slightly with outstretched arms. Before she could reply,
he was walking down the ramp and offering her an arm.
"Why, Captain, this is unprecedented," Leia said, smiling and slipping
a hand onto the inside of his elbow. "Just make mine whiskey," she
murmured. "You know I can't stand beer."
"But of course," Han said as he stifled his initial reaction to point
out she made all of her likes and dislikes very well known, thank you.
As they walked into the hold, Chewbacca popped his head down from the
ceiling compartment to see whom Han was talking to. He hung there for a
moment in what seemed like astonishment, then said, *You look wonderful
tonight, Princess.*
Either Leia didn't have these particular words in her Wookiee
vocabulary yet, or she wasn't used to hearing compliments. She looked up
at Han in uncertainty.
"He said you look wonderful tonight," Han translated, then paused and
added softly, "and you do."
Leia could only bow her head and blush, so unused was she to
such...gallant behavior, especially from Han. "Thank you, Chewie," she
said, turning her eyes up to the ceiling.
The wookiee smiled. *See you later,* he said, winking at Han before he
pulled his head back up into the compartment.
Han seated Leia at the lounge table, then went to the galley for
refreshments.
"Luke's not here?" Leia called to Han as she crossed her legs and
smoothed her skirt.
"Just missed him," Han called back, mouthing a thank-you to Luke for
his timing.
"He left a message on my commlink to come over after dinner," she said,
absently toying with a button on her jacket.
"Officers only?" Han guessed as he brought a bottle of Corellian
whiskey and two glasses to the table.
"Mmhmm," Leia confirmed, watching him pour a glass of gold for her,
then himself.
"So you didn't dress up just for us," Han said with a smile as he sat
down and corralled his glass, holding back a "too bad."
"Oh, those events are trying at best," Leia sighed, "but I don't mind
dressing for them. Reminds me of...old times."
There was an awkward silence, then Han raised his glass. "To formal
wear, then," he toasted.
"To formal wear," she repeated, smiling and taking a sip from her
glass. "I never thought I'd see the day Han Solo would approve of a
uniform."
"As long as I'm not wearing it, sweetheart," Han said and took a drink.
Leia laughed. "This is very good," she said after a moment, putting
down her glass and tapping it. "How do you get this stuff?"
"Solvay may be a hole, but it imports almost every known liquor in the
galaxy...which may explain why it's such a hole," Han said as a grin crept
across his face. He leaned back and stretched an arm along the length of
the black leather crescent couch they were sitting on, his fingertips
landing inches away from the Princess.
Leia laughed again. "Could be," she agreed, taking a longer sip, then
leaning on the table and holding her glass to her lips.
'Luke was right,' Han thought. If given the chance, Leia would rather
have a straight-on conversation with him. And he was finding he'd rather
with her, too.
He eyed the tail of her hair and wondered why she never wore it free.
He wanted to see it flowing as he'd seen it earlier that day.
Han thought better of asking her about it, though, finally realizing
that getting too familiar with Leia was a sure way to make her freeze up.
He didn't want to undo the hard work it was for him to be nice to her,
though it was getting easier by the minute.
Slowly, his eyes rose from her hair to her face and saw her staring at
him over her glass with a slight smile.
"So," Han said to break the silence, "what happens at these dinners?
All kinds of top-secret info debriefings, or does Major Straate just make
passes at you?" He gave her a lopsided grin and took another drink.
Leia stopped just short of putting her glass down, then with a sparkle
in her eye set it down just so.
"And what do you know about Straate? Are you tutoring him?" she asked
with a lopsided grin of her own.
"Me?" Han asked with a mock hurt look. "It's not hard to see what his
agenda is with you, sweetheart. I'm just looking out for you. That's my
job: to protect and serve."
"That's your agenda. That's all?" Leia asked, arching an eyebrow.
Han loved it when she did that. 'No, my agenda is to lean over there,
undo that ponytail, and kiss you like you've never been kissed before,' he
thought. Instead, he looked at her with the thought smouldering behind his
eyes and said, "Yeah."
There was another silence, not so awkward, as they looked at each
other.
Slowly, Leia took another drink, then spoke. "Captain, I get the
distinct impression we're having a civil conversation here. I demand to
know why you're being nice to me," she finished with a smile.
"Because I can be," Han replied.
Leia considered his answer. "Sometimes," she added. "Now if only we
could work on the 'rude' and 'crude' parts."
A roar of laughter came from the ceiling compartment.
"Aww, knock it off, ya furry eavesdropper," Han called to Chewbacca,
looking up then back down to the Princess. "One thing at a time, OK, Your
Highness?" he said, spreading out a hand.
"OK," she said, smiling and twirling a strand of hair around a finger.
There was another silence, even less awkward. Then Leia rose.
"Thank you for the hospitality, Han," she said as she stretched an arm
across the table to shake his hand. "It's been...enlightening."
Chewie roared his farewell from the ceiling. "Good night, Chewie," she
said, turning her eyes up.
"Going so soon?" Han asked, furrowing his brow and standing up to take
her hand. "We haven't even played a game."
"I beg to differ, Captain," Leia replied. "I think we've started a much
more interesting one."
Inspired, Han lifted her hand to his lips...and kissed it.
Eyes on his mouth, the Princess slowly took her hand away from his.
"Thank you," she whispered and watched his eyes swirl from brown to
gold. 'What color are they, anyway?' she wondered.
Silently, Han walked Leia from the hold, down the ramp, and out of the
Falcon, then watched her white figure disappear into the night.
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You Do Have Your Moments
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