Story Submission: Got Your Number By Kels

 Thanks to Kels for this story submission, inspired by those lovely photos of the two of them dancing and smiling at each other.

 Han noticed the slight frown that passed over his wife’s face as he grabbed her hand and led her to the dance floor.  He’d hoped that the Samorian wine they’d both downed would have relaxed her by now, but he supposed that the bonds of motherhood outweighed even the rapid impact that gained Samorian wine its galaxy-wide reputation.

“Sweetheart,” he said, taking her into his arms, careful to place his arm higher on her back than he really wanted to, as he had learned that to do otherwise at these occasions often led to a wifely stink-eye, “if anything was wrong with the kids, you would know.”

“I know,” Leia sighed. Jax was only four months old, though, and although they had left Luke and Adria more milk, food, diapers, instructions, toys, medicine, and changes of clothes than anyone could possibly need to watch a 2-year-old and a baby for one night, she still felt the pang of leaving her little boy at home overnight without her for the first time.

“They’re with a Jedi Knight and a medic.  They’re in better hands than they ever are with us.”

Leia laughed.  He had her there.  Their children were probably the safest kids in the galaxy right about now.  “It’s Luke and Adria I’m worried about,” she giggled, feeling the wine start to kick in.  “One night with our offspring may stop that relationship cold.”

“Our kids?” Han laughed. “Nah.  They’re perfect, quiet, easygoing little angels, just like us.”

“Exactly,” she agreed. “They’re just like us.  Which is why Luke and Adria are in trouble,” Leia sighed contentedly in Han’s arms.  “Intoxicants…I had almost forgotten how wonderful they are.”

Han burst out laughing.  “I thought that sigh was for me!”

“It was,” she said, innocently. “You AND the wine.”

“Nice save, but I’m not quite buying it,” he parried, spinning her away before they collided with a six-armed Gatorin and his mate.  As they found some space in a less crowded area on the dance floor, Leia noticed that more than a few of the other guests were glancing at them.  Actually, she realized with a flare of pride, they were sneaking looks at Han, and this time it wasn’t only the human females, who had always looked at him as if he were a particularly appealing piece of eye-candy. Thankfully the human female behind Leia was a bit ostentatiously ignoring them both.

Leia had often wondered when and if Han’s reputation from both the war and his test piloting would be enough to sway people’s attention from her, and, tonight – at least in this crowd, at the wedding of one of Han’s favorite pre-flight mechanics, Zev – that shift in attention finally seemed to be happening.  She felt some relief, as it always worried her that one day Han would get sick of the long shadow she cast – a shadow that she felt, after everything he had achieved, he had no reason to still be standing in.

“They’re all looking at you, hotshot,” Leia said matter-of-factly. “Better fix your tie.  You know, that tie you’ve been grumbling about all night.”   She grinned, thinking how generous she was being in assigning his grumbling about his attire to only this night, when he’d been grumbling about it ever since Zev had asked if Han would stand as his witness at the Veluskian marriage ceremony, with which came the obligation to wear the formal attire of the Velusk people.

“Nah,” he replied. “They’re lookin’ at the hottest chick in the room.”

“Hottest chick?” Leia snorted. “Short and round-faced still-losing-baby-weight mother-of-two.”

“Hottest.  Chick. In. The. Room,” Han repeated slowly, his face inches from hers, his knuckles brushing gently along her cheek, his smile at its most brilliant, and, even better, deployed only for her enjoyment.

“Dammit,” Leia laughed out loud as her knees went weak enough for Han to feel her falter. “How can you still do that to me after all these years, Solo?”

“I just have your number, Your Worship,” he replied.

“Yes,” she agreed, her smile matching his in brilliance. “You definitely have my number. And I have yours.”

“You’ve had mine for a very, very long time.  But tonight, I’ve also got twelve hours alone with you in a hotel after this shindig, and I intend to have your number over and over and over.”

“Is that a promise?” She stood on her toes to rub her nose against his.

“Oh yes, Leia, that is a promise.”

“Then why is your hand so decorously high on my back when it is usually so inappropriately low?”

He immediately slid his hand down to the small of her back. “You’re saying you actually want it here tonight?”

“Damn right, Solo,” she grinned. “Damn right.”