Star Wars_ The Han Solo Trilogy 03_ Rebel Dawn - A. C. Crispin [121]
That evening, the humans were wined and dined with the best of Togorian food and drink. Togorian storytellers regaled them with tales of their own escapades from ten years ago, when they’d escaped from Ylesia. Han barely recognized himself—the accounts had obviously been “enhanced” over the years, until he emerged as such a heroic figure it was almost laughable.
Han was careful with the strong Togorian liquor, and noticed that Bria drank only water. “I can’t drink,” she said, when asked. “I’m scared I’ll get to like it too much. I have to be careful … once addicted, you can get addicted again, to other things.”
Han admired her restraint, and said so.
After the festivities were over, Muuurgh and Mrrov conducted their guests to the finest of their guest apartments, then bade them goodnight.
Han and Bria stood on opposite sides of the living room and regarded each other in silence for a long, uncomfortable moment. Han glanced at the door leading to the one bedroom. “Uh … guess Muuurgh and Mrrov still think we’re an item,” he said.
“Guess so,” she agreed, unable to meet his eyes.
“Well, I guess it’s the pallet out here for me,” Han said.
“Hey,” Bria remonstrated, “I’m a soldier. I’ve slept in mudholes before, with no blanket. No need to treat me like a lady, Han.” She smiled and took out a decicred piece. “Tell you what … I’ll flip you for the bed.”
Han grinned at her, his most charming smile. “Okay, babe. Fine by me.”
Bria looked at him, and their eyes locked. “Oh, dear.” She sounded as though she’d just run four or five klicks.
Han was feeling a bit breathless himself. “ ‘Oh dear’ what?” he said, taking a step toward her.
Bria smiled shakily. “The galaxy is no longer safe for humanoid females,” she said. “You’ve learned what you can do with that lopsided smile, haven’t you?”
As a matter of fact, Han did have some idea … and so did a number of women he could name. He took another two slow steps in her direction, and chuckled, genuinely amused. “Hey …” he said. “There are times when it works better than my blaster.”
Bria was so tense he wondered if she were going to bolt, but she didn’t move as he took another step toward her. Looking down, Han saw that her hand was shaking. “Aren’t you going to flip that thing?” he asked softly.
She nodded and took a deep breath, and her hand steadied a bit. “Sure. Call it.”
“You sure it’s not a trick coin?” Han asked, taking another step.
“Hey!” she protested. “It’s a real decicred!” With mock indignation, Bria showed him the disk, twirling it to demonstrate that it was indeed a regular coin. On the obverse was the head of the Emperor, on the reverse was stamped the symbol of the Empire.
Han took another step, and now he could have reached out and touched her shoulder. “Okay … I pick … heads,” he said, quietly.
Bria swallowed and flipped the coin, but she missed catching it, because she was shaking again. Han, however, did not miss. He caught the coin, held it without looking. “Heads we share the bed.…” he said softly. “Tails … we share the floor.”
“But … we agreed …” she was stammering and trembling all over now. “Just … business …”
Han tossed the coin over his shoulder, and in one lunge he pulled Bria into his arms. He kissed her with all the pent-up passion of the past days … and all those lost years. Kissed her mouth, her forehead, her hair, her ears … and then returned to her mouth. Finally, when he raised his head, he breathed, “I say … the heck with business … right?”
“Right …” she murmured, and then it was her turn to kiss him. She wound her arms around his neck, holding him as tightly as he held her.
Behind them, forgotten, the decicred piece lay on the woven matting covering the floor, shining faintly in the dimness.…