Genre: Humour/nonsense/romance, almost
Timeframe: Dreamtime, most likely
Characters: Boba Fett, me, miscellaneous
Summary: Somebody messed with Boba Fett's mind, and Lanna has to suffer the consequences
Notes: This is what happens if your fanficcing mind roams free, tries to relax, and gets fed unhealthy ideas. Substandard goods of the brain, so to speak.

Fangirl's curse

Chapter 1

The morning was grey, icy, and full of tiny snowflakes swirling in a soft breeze and getting everywhere. Flying open landspeeders in such weather is hazardous, thought Lanna, but I'd give my right arm for one!

Small heaps of white crystals had built up on her jacket while she tried to kick her speederbike back to life. She had taken off her bulky gloves, only to have her fingers frozen within the minute. And still no sign of life from her bike.

Suddenly she kicked it hard in frustration. "I'll be late, and it's all your fault," she yelled at the vehicle, which took the assault stoically. A few more prods and kicks at the correct places convinced it to work again, though. Grumbling, Lanna remounted and continued her way to the Morakti Mall.

Of course she was late, and her boss complained and threatened to cut her wages. After all, this was already the third time this week -- and it was only Thursday. Fuming, Lanna assumed her post behind the counter, searching for her professional sales face.

"Good Morning, sir. How can I help you?" she beamed at the next customer.

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The day dragged on endlessly, and of course the last hour took longest to elapse. By the time Lanna could knock off work, the smile felt chiselled into her face. But the boss had been watching her closely the whole day, probably looking for a reason to boot her out. The Sith take that speederbike, Lanna though ruefully. Or winter. The speeder was a sissy when it came to cold.

Pulling her coat close, Lanna secured her scarf and pulled on her thick gloves. She looked pretty much like a black snowman now, and felt about as mobile as one. "Blasted cold," she muttered, "bet the speeder will break down at least once again on my way home."

After several attempts, the speederbike came to life, and the Lanna drove off. During the day it had stopped snowing, and everybody tried to get a last ray of sunlight by using the highest air-lanes they could. Close down to the ground, Lanna was crossed by zigzagging shadows of all sizes.

Two blocks from home, the bike broke down. With a sigh, Lanna dismounted and peered into its interior. As always, there was nothing unusual to be seen. She kicked the vehicle half-heartedly and was surprised by the loud rattling that ensued. When she looked up, however, she realized the sound had not come from her speeder at all. Next to her right mudguard lay a heap of crumpled green armour.

Irritatedly Lanna gazed up, but none of the vehicles slowed or showed any other way that they might have lost something. Bet it scratched my coat of paint badly, too, she thought bitterly as she went around her speeder to investigate.

When she arrived, the supposed heap had already begun to rearrange itself into a man in green body armour. Not thinking, she extended her hand to help the man up. "You all right?" she asked.

Ignoring her hand, the stranger got up, straightened his armour, and answered her question with a curt nod. At any other man Lanna would have snapped a remark about politeness, but the heap of armour had by then transformed into the figure of Boba Fett. And who would dare argue about polite behaviour with the galaxy's most notorious bounty hunter? Lanna didn't. Great, she thought, it's raining bounty hunters.

Shaking her head, she returned her attention to her speeder, opening up its side to get a look at the engines. What was it that customer had said I should check? she wondered. Was it the thrust damper? Or the field rotation generator? Does my speeder HAVE a field rotation generator? And just where are speederbike technicians when you need them?

The Lanna reached out to twiddle the first knob that looked the least bit twiddleable, when suddenly a gloved hand gripped her wrist like a clamp.

"Hey!" she snapped, turning in the direction of the arm. And found herself just a few inches from Boba Fett's helmet. Lanna over came her first impulse, which was to ram the top of her head into the assumed position of the bounty hunter's nose. Mandalorian armour was most likely much harder than her skull. She tried to glare instead. The effect was questionable, since the visor of the aforementioned helmet was tinted.

All this thinking had taken Lanna so long that by the time she opened her mouth to snap some more at him, Fett was already speaking. "You don't want to loosen the break-liquid conduit control," came his filtered voice.

Lanna clapped her mouth shut. He was right -- that was something she certainly didn't want to do. Tentatively she withdrew her hand, but if she had expected Fett to loosen his grip now, she was disappointed. He still held it fast. She glanced, slightly annoyed, from the hand clasping hers fiercely to his face and back. After only a few repetitions of the exercise, the bounty hunter seemed to understand and let go. Lanna immediately began to vigorously rub the life back into her hand.

"So, what would I want to do?" she asked.

Instead of answering, Fett shoved her away and had his hands working in the engine compartment before Lana could blink her eyes. Maybe, she thought, sometimes speederbike mechanics DID fall from the sky when you need them.

Fett opened a tool compartment Lanna didn't even know existed and began to undo all the damage her previous repairs had done.

While he was busy on the speeder, Lanna began to wonder if it as wise to offer him a ride -- or wise not to. There were still some transports around, but most of them used higher lanes. OK, he had just fallen from the sky, scratching her precious paint job, but after all he repaired her speeder, as well. At least she hoped he would. Not to mention that he was the most dangerous bounty hunter around. And if he didn't manage to repair the speeder, he could still help her push -- the loud clap of Boba Fett shutting her engine compartment yanked Lanna back to reality.

"You should have no more problems with it now," he said.

"Thank you," Lanna answered and wished fervently that acting against ones will was as easy as all those holovids always pretended. "Do you need a ride?"

The bounty hunter looked from the woman to the speeder and back. The seat was long enough to hold two. Lanna brought friends home often enough to know that, but it was also short enough to make the experience rather cosy.

The thought of the galaxy's most notorious bounty hunter hanging on to her waist while she drove though the city didn't seemed very inviting. Neither was the idea of her hanging on to the waist of the galaxy's most notorious bounty hunter while he sped though the city. Lanna hoped strongly he would decline. She prayed that, where bounty hunters fell from the sky, their ships soon followed. Even if that meant sudden death.

To her utter horror, Boba Fett answered, "Yes, thank you. That would be nice."

He has not just said "thank you" and "nice", Lanna thought, alarmed. I'm hallucianting, oh, yes, there was only a curt nod, none of this polite un-Fett-like stuff.

While Lanna was still trying to sort reality and imagination Fett, claimed the driver's seat. He glanced at her over his shoulder, and reluctantly Lanna took a few steps towards her now-occupied speeder. "Great," she muttered to herself. "I'll make a pretty big fool out of myself." Then she suddenly hoped very much that Fett had shut off his audio enhancers.

Boba Fett did not only know how to repair a speederbike, he also knew how to fly one. At least that was what Lanna hoped, while she clung on to the bounty hunter for dear life. He drove through the city at a speed Lanna had thought impossible and was sure to be forbidden. After the first few meters she clamped her eyes shut and, to her own embarrassment, tried to huddle her face somewhere next to his rocket pack.

Lanna prayed fervently that they would reach Fett's destination soon. At the same time, she thanked the Gods profoundly that she had not eaten dinner yet. The vision of her half-digested meal splattered all over Fett's Mandalorian armour was not one she particularly wanted to come true.

Boba Fett raced through the streets with abandon, as if he had nine lives and was ready to squander them all on this one ride. With her eyes firmly shut and all muscles taut, Lanna clasped his waist and waited for the ride to end.

Finally Fett had mercy and brought the speeder to a halt. He jumped off lightly an nodded in her direction. Lanna did not trust her legs to hold her up, so she just grabbed the handles with shaking hands and pulled herself forward. Since she didn't trust her voice much either, she only nodded in return and eased the bike back onto the lane at a crawl. She was much to tense to see that Fett actually raised his hand to wave goodbye.

As soon as she was out of sight, Lanna stopped her speeder at the side of the road and violently threw up what little had been in her stomach. Huddled in the snow, she mused that Boba Fett, even if he was not after your head, was a man very dangerous to your health.