Never Rains But It Pours

By Elektra

(elektrasfic (at) yahoo.co.uk)

 

Authors note: This is a challenge from the OZ list. Keep your eyes peeled for…

 

1. A Thunderstorm

3. A restored antique landspeeder

2. The color indigo

4. A long lost letter

5. A practical joke.

 

The rain pounded down relentlessly, the thunderstorm unleashing its fury on the planet below. The road leading along the valley had effectively become a river, making pedestrian travel impossible. The small speeder was almost invisible, pulled up under a rocky overhang in an attempt to escape the torrent. As she watched a tree being felled by the force of the water, Leia Organa reflected that this trip was not one of her better ideas.

 

They'd set out an hour earlier to inspect the positioning of the sensor network, despite adverse weather warnings, in a restored antique landspeeder the Alliance had picked up. Sadly the restoration had not extended to the engine compartment, the bottom of which was now lying in the road. Along with the engine.

 

A blast of cold air caught her by surprise as the driver's door opened and shut. She turned in time to see a drenched Han Solo leap into the seat, spraying icy droplets over her. A lightning flash illuminated the cockpit, revealing the water streaming down his face from his slicked back hair. She watched intently as he stripped off his blue shirt that was soaked to a deep indigo, admiring his muscular silhouette. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, his harsh breathing the only sound in the cockpit. Looking over at his companion, he stated flatly,

 

"You people do not pay me enough for this." Leia had to smile at that. Here they were, practically shipwrecked and the man was quibbling about his wages. Some things never changed.

 

"Han, according to you, we don't pay you enough for anything."

 

"Very true." He squelched as he shifted in his seat to face her. "I'll have you know I've got an ever temperamental ship and an ever hungry Wookiee to support."

 

Leia raised a sceptical eyebrow. "It seems to me that Chewie spends most of his time eating out the Mess."

 

"That's only because he doesn't like my cooking."

 

"You can cook?" she asked in surprise, fishing for an invitation for some real food.

 

"What's it worth?" He leaned toward her suggestively, his grin evident from the tone of his voice.

 

"Nothing you're going to get Solo." Leia was surprised at her teasing tone. Usually this was the point where she got snappy. Apparently having Han Solo semi-naked only inches away was good for her tolerance levels. Although not good for the part of her brain involved in rational thought, as she found herself admiring his biceps for the third time in the past minute.

 

"So what are you going to do when we get back to base?" It was a clumsy attempt to restart the conversation, but if she didn't get her brain back on track soon, some of those Alliance rumours might start to come true.

 

"Ah, fend of the scores of beautiful women hungry for my body, wait for the long lost letter telling me I'm the sole heir to untold millions, the usual really." She had to laugh at that, was there anything this man took seriously?

 

The ear-splitting thunder crack made her jump out of her seat in shock. As she landed in his lap, Han pulled her in close to him.

 

"Han, cut it out!" she protested, trying not to enjoy the body heat he generated. Her fingers tingled as she contacted the bare skin of his chest while trying to push him away.

 

"C'mon Princess, what are you afraid of?" His breath whispered in her ear and she had to suppress a shiver.

 

"Your clothes are wet." She had a sinking feeling she'd lost the fight already.

 

"So they are." His mock surprised tone didn't give her enough warning. In one fluid movement he opened the door, scooped her up and bounded out into the rain.

 

She squealed as the cold water hit her, trying to curl herself into a ball to keep as much of her dry as possible. She could feel Han's laughter through her increasingly wet clothing and took a swing at his head. Before she could detach herself from his arms and really vent her anger, searchlights cut through the curtain of rain. An Alliance rescue patrol. Her initial elation at the thought of heading back to base was offset when the hatch on the groundcrawler popped open to reveal a grinning pilot, with a holorecorder in his hand. She groaned in frustration. The rumour mill would be fed for years.

 

 

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