This is a sequel to "A Polite Conversation" submitted by Blamey77.
Han walked purposefully through the hanger towards his precious ship;
the Millennium Falcon gleaming invitingly in front of him. Inspecting it
critically from the outside, Han found a couple of new dents, but
Good. The sooner I make sure the Falcon is good to fly; the sooner I can get home.
Han briefly wondered if he could convince Leia to order take-out food
from his favorite Corellian restaurant for dinner. She might be
amenable despite her distaste for the spicy food. After all, it was his
birthday the next day. Plus, they could always order her some food from
the Alderaanian place down the street from their apartment. That way she
wouldn't have to spend half the night gulping down glass after glass of
water to combat the fiery aftertaste of his favorite foods.
Han patted the underside of his ship affectionately and set about opening the Falcon for a quick inspection.
The ship was good to go. Han would have preferred to have an extra day
to tinker with a couple of things here and there, but they were all
superficial adjustments. Nothing that would affect the trip he was
planning for the New Republic the following week.
"If everything on the Falcon was working perfectly, I think you'd go
crazy," Leia had once remarked.
Before Han could indignantly respond,
she had quickly said, "Sorry. Crazier."
Han smirked as he remembered the scene that had followed. He had chased
her around the hallways of the Falcon for a few minutes before cornering
her in the cockpit. They managed one full minute of breathlessness and
passion before Threepio's customary interruption.
A noise from within the ship immediately brought Han's attention back to the present. He sighed. I bet it's that damn heater in my cabin. I swear that thing breaks down just to get attention. Han grabbed a tool and headed for his cabin. Five minutes tops. Then I'm out of here.
Han entered his cabin and froze. The tool clattered, unnoticed, to the floor.
Leia was sprawled out invitingly on the bed. She was lying on her side,
providing him with a clear view of the slightly sheer black silk
nightgown she was wearing. In one of her hands was a glass and in the
other, an expensive bottle of wine.
Balloons floated, almost touching the ceiling of his cabin- three tied to each end of the headboard of the bed.
The smile on her face was as playful as it was predatory.
Leia sat up and slid herself to the edge of the bed. The material of her
nightgown slid up as she did so and Han watched, hypnotized as a great
deal of her legs were exposed. She picked up another glass from the
bedside table and walked over to him.
At some point, Han's brain and mouth started working together again and he managed to talk. "Wow," he commented.
Leia handed him the other glass and whispered, throatily, "Surprise."