Nebulous - Han Solo [2]

Chapter 1: You're Leaving?

"So it's true," Tasha said angrily, as though daring him to disagree, "what general Reiken said, that you're leaving." Han looked over his shoulder at the raven girl, her green eyes fiery but more controlled than it used to be.

"Look princess, you might be content to have Jabba breathing down your neck, but that's because your friends will actually protect you, but they won't protect me, sweetheart." He replied, his voice harsher that Tasha would've expected.

"They would!" she said emphatically. Han smiled sarcastically at her.

"They didn't want me here in the first place."

"Han, we need you!" she said angrily. Han looked at her mockingly.

"Oh we need?"

"Yes," she replied, not sensing where he was going with this.

"What about you need?" Tasha looked at him with fake bewilderment in her eyes.

"I need? I don't know what your talking about." she said, trying to get him off her back again. Han gave her a satisfied look.

"You probably don't," he said sharply, walking away from her and his ship. But Tasha wasn't quite done with him yet.

"And what precisely am I supposed to know?" she said, gritting her teeth and storming after him down the freezing corridors.

"Come on. You want me to stay because of the way you feel about me," he hadn't stopped to address her, just kept walking. Tasha gritted her teeth again, letting out a hiss of a breath.

"Yes! You're a great help to us, you're a natural leader!"

"No! That's not it!" Han said angrily, whirring around to face her. He pointed a finger at his lips. "Come on!" Tasha looked up at him in bafflement, but Han could see right through her mask. "Aha! Come on!"

"You're imagining things!" Tasha shot back, her anger bubbling beneath the surface though still under some manner of control. The last time Tasha had been truly angry was three years ago, when she threw her friend and colleague into a pile of crates across a hangar bay. Sure, there had been minor slip ups, usually because of Han and usually ending up with him being thrown into a chair or a doorframe, but she was getting better at controlling them.

"Am I? Then why are you following me? Scared I was gonna leave without giving you a goodbye kiss?" Tasha glared at him.

"I'd just as soon kiss a Wookiee." She spat back, getting very close to Han ending up sliding down the wall with a slight concussion.

"I could arrange that!" he yelled back at her, storming off again, "you could use a good kiss!"

"And you'd know all about that, would you, Solo?!" Tasha shouted back before thinking about the words coming out of her mouth. He stopped in his tracks before slowly spinning on his heel, turning to her.

"As a matter of fact, your highnessness," he said slowly, walking towards her, his words laced with danger, "I would." Tasha refused to look into his eyes, refused to give him the victory of having ruffled her. "Have you forgotten?" no, she definitely hadn't. They had both been drunk out of their minds; otherwise, of course, nothing would've happened. They had both just completed a mission together to rescue a spy from deep in the heart of empire space and had been celebrating at a bar . . . somewhere when things got a little heated. Well, a little more than heated to be perfectly honest. And it still haunted her like a ghost, not because Han wouldn't let it go, but because she couldn't.

"I don't know to what you are referring," she said firmly, turning and ending the argument on her own terms. "See ya 'round, flyboy."