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.”
