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Written in response to Serra's challenge at SWC: write a short humor fic, no more than two or three pages in length. Must include the following phrases -
"LUKE! What have you DONE?!"
"Come back here and let me whack you!"
"Gimme some coffee. Cappucino. No, espresso. No..."
"Ooh, pretty girl!"
"Maybe you should call yourself something else. Try Sugar. Or maybe Sweetie."
"The press will have a field day!"
Rating - PG
Setting - after RotJ (my first Han/Leia fic!)
Archive - wherever, as long as it’s got this spiel at the top.
Disclaimer - it all belongs to Lucas. I am not making any money from
this.
Princess Leia strode along the corridor, the hem of her long, white gown flicking forward with every step, her face a mask of determination. Droids and people alike scurried out of her way when they saw her approach, and tentative, uneasy whispers followed in her wake.
Finally she reached her destination; a row of small offices allocated to non-government VIPs. She banged loudly on the small door to her left that bore the legend 'Skywalker.' “Luke! I know you’re in there.”
The door crept open just enough for her to make out the tousled blonde head of the occupant. “Where is he?” she growled.
Luke grinned sheepishly. “He’s... umm... indisposed.”
“I am announcing my engagement to the entire galactic media in less than one hour,” she said through gritted teeth. “I think it would be appropriate that my fiancé attend, don’t you?” Her eyes narrowed ominously. “He’s in there, isn’t he!”
Luke’s grin melted under Leia’s laser-powered glare. “I... ah... really don’t think you should see this, Leia...”
Using all her strength, Leia shoved the young Jedi out of her way, marched into the room... and stopped, utterly stunned.
Han Solo lay sprawled across three armless chairs, his booted feet dangling, his head pillowed on one arm as he snored loudly. Brown and green stains speckled his shirt and vest, and he smelled like he’d just crawled out of the trash compactor.
“LUKE! What have you DONE?!”
“Me? All I did was pass on a bottle of whiskey that Wedge gave me. It doesn’t normally have this effect on him.”
Holding her nose, Leia knelt down and peered intently at Han’s comatose face. “Oh, no. Not now. Not today. I’m nervous enough without this to contend with...” Her hand flew to her mouth. “The press will have a field day!”
“I’ve been trying to wake him,” said Luke, “but he’s out cold.”
“Let me try.” Planting her feet firmly on the floor, Leia grasped Han’s shoulder and shook him with all her might. “Wake up, you idiotic nerf!!”
Han’s only response was a beatific smile.
“Hmm.” Leia knelt down beside him, her lips close to his ear. “Han, it’s Leia.”
“Mmmm.”
“We have a press briefing to go to - remember?”
“Mmmm.”
Leia racked her brain for something, anything that might rouse her betrothed. She grinned wryly. “Han, the Falcon’s on fire.”
“Huh? Whazzat??” Two hazel eyes half opened and focused on Leia’s left shoulder. “Wass goin’ on?”
Leia moved herself into his field of vision. “Press briefing. About our engagement.” She glanced pointedly at the chrono strapped to her wrist. “In less than an hour.”
Han grinned, one corner of his mouth twisting a little higher than the other. “Ooh, pretty girl!”
“It’s me. Leia.” She tried a smile but it came out as more of a grimace. “Soon to be Mrs. Solo.”
“Solo? Don’ like Solo,” muttered Han. “Maybe you should call yourself something else. Try Sugar. Or maybe Sweetie.”
Leia looked imploringly at her brother. “What am I going to do? I can’t face the press alone!”
“Hey, at least he’s awake now,” Luke somewhat irrelevantly pointed out. “We just need to sober him up.”
“Sober!” exclaimed Han, making both of them jump. “I can do sober! Gimme some coffee. Cappuccino. No, espresso. No..."
One delicate hand reached out and smacked him on the head. “Han Solo, when I’m through with you, you are going to wish you’d never been born!”
Suddenly, Han sat bolt upright, all traces of intoxication apparently gone. He swept Leia onto his lap. “But if I’d never been born, I’d never have met you, my love.”
“What?” Totally perplexed, Leia stared at her fiancé. “I thought you were...”
“Drunk? Me?” His eyebrows rose in an expression of mock innocence. “I wouldn’t do that on the morning of our official engagement.”
Leia glowered, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “You were pretending?”
“Just thought I’d take your mind off the briefing.” He kissed her nose. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“I... I...” Anger ambushed her words in her throat.
Han turned to Luke as he moved her carefully onto a chair. “Got my uniform, kid?”
“Right here.” He held up Han’s immaculately pressed outfit and struggled to contain the grin that threatened to take over his face.
“Guess I’d better go shower and change, then.” Han stood up and bowed formally to Leia. “I’ll see you at the press briefing, Princess.”
“Why you... you...” Her hands shook as her face turned white with rage.
Han grabbed Luke’s arm and quickly dragged him towards the door as the young Jedi started giggling helplessly. “Bye, Your Highness!”
“I can’t believe you two did that to me!” Her voice rose another octave. “Come back here and let me whack you!”
Her only reply was the door slamming and the sound of hysterical laughter as it faded into the distance...
~FIN~