Too Damn Hot!

By Elektra

(elektrasfic (at) yahoo.co.uk)

 

Author’s note: Another OZ challenge and the catalyst for my return to fandom. Can you spot the following?

-A really hot day
-A Plastic bag
-A zipper or similar closure
-A device that keeps breaking
-A pet
-Medication
-Smelly shoes
-Cosmetics
-A water source
-A bookmark

"I thought we were running a rebellion not a pool party."

Han squinted up at her from his position sprawled on the warm rock.

"What's with the we? If I recall, YOU are staying inside attempting to convince people to cook for your cause. We on the other hand..." He made an expansive gesture at his surroundings, letting the array
of scantily clad bodies speak for itself.

"Besides, it's not really a party," a similarly reclined Luke interjected. "More of a… gathering around the only water source for 50 klicks."

Leia rolled her eyes, then threw down her towel in mock defeat. Scanning the rocky canyon she saw the inviting shallow spring surrounding by densely packed bodies. By the looks of it almost every
non-essential member of the base staff was here. 'Actually,' she thought, spotting some of this shift's command centre crew, 'make that pretty much everybody.'

As she settled herself on the towel and fished out her datapad from a plastic bag, she conceded that this was a much better plan than staying in the base. The cooling unit had decided that it was persistently too hot for it to continue working and so now alternated between doing nothing at all and blowing hot air into every room in the base. To her knowledge it had been `fixed' at least four times, but the only success had been in making pretty much the entire structure uninhabitable by anything prone to heatstroke.

Persistent squeals drew her gaze to the pool, and she smiled as she saw a member of Rogue Squadron pick up a woman, who up until now shehad thought was a perfectly sensible air traffic controller, and
throw her into the pool. Nearby somebody's pet furry …thing was gambolling at the water's edge, then running out and shaking itself over unsuspecting sunbathers. To her left a heated debate was in
progress about whose shoes reeked the most. They all looked so young, so vibrantly unaware of the war they were fighting. Leia couldn'tremember ever feeling as carefree as some people she knew were twice her age were acting. 'Downside of growing up royalty,' she mentally sighed.

She rummaged in her bag for sun-block, pushing aside cosmetics and the combined headache medication/mild stimulant that kept her going through the nights, before pulling out the bottle that would stop her
going a truly unattractive shade of pink.

"Need a hand?" A voice rumbled behind her. She turned to see a now shirtless Han propped up on his elbows and grinning wolfishly at her. His eyes were hidden behind a sun visor but she thought she could almost see the teasing sparkle in them. Her eyes involuntarily moved to his chest, then followed the light trail of hair downwards. 'Goddess!' Pulling her gaze away from the oddly mesmerising undone top button of his pants, she dragged her eyes back to his face. A cocked eyebrow told her that he knew exactly where she had been looking, and she felt her cheeks flame in response.

"I- I'm fine, thanks." She managed to be both more incoherent and abrupt than she had intended, but was only greeted with another eyebrow raise and a smug smile playing over his lips.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged and lay down, distracting her again with the movement of the muscles in his abdomen.

'Get a grip Organa,' she thought fiercely. 'No, not on that.' She felt her cheeks redden again at the thought of exploring just what would happen if say, the next button on his pants just happened to
fall open. And the entire Alliance wasn't here. And she had taken up his offer to help her with her suncream.

The realisation that Luke was staring at her brought her back to reality and she smiled guiltily. She sincerely hoped he thought she'd just zoned out for a moment. She applied the cream, then wrenched her mind firmly away from Solo's pants and onto the datapad in front of her. Searching the report for the bookmark she'd put in, she felt her eyes drifting away from potential suppliers of X-wing parts to the reflection of Solo's bare chest in the screen. Technically that counted as working, she figured, suppressing an appreciative smirk and settling in for the afternoon.

 

 

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