Authors' Note: This story is a follow-up to our story The Only Constant, although you don't need to have read that one to get this one. See additional notes at the end.
—JG and ED
Blush
By Erin Darroch and Justine Graham
"Jenny. Psst! Jenny! Will you stop fondling the undies for a minute and look at what just strolled in? That has got to be the hottest thing I've ever seen on two legs."
Jennavelle Corthol-Barwen-Stythe, manager and proud owner of Blush—the most exclusive and stylish lingerie boutique in uptown Dorthus Tal—rolled her eyes and heaved a little sigh at the sound of her eager young employee's exhortations. Despite Sora's urging, she didn't bother to turn her attention away from her task of sorting through the shipment of garments that had arrived from Morvol that morning. Sora was a wonderful assistant; a hard-working extrovert with an excellent sales record and a pleasant demeanour. But she was also, in Jenny's opinion, just a little too crazy about men. Even without turning her head, Jenny could feel through the Force the sudden spike of elation that radiated from the young Orryxian from the moment the shop door opened; it was a familiar surge of enthusiasm that always meant a male of some description had just entered the premises. Sora's general fascination with the opposite gender led her to make a similar declaration about almost every man who happened to venture into the shop, regardless of species: each one was simply the hottest, the finest, the most gorgeous specimen she'd ever laid eyes on, and Jenny had heard it all a thousand times before.
Ignoring Sora's excited hisses, Jenny kept her eyes trained down on the array of fine garments she'd just received. Many of the designs were her own creations and she was pleased to see them rendered with such an expert touch, but she was also especially enamored of anything made from Morvolian lace. It was among the finest material of its type in the galaxy; soft and luxurious, with beautiful variation in its rich colors and unique designs. Intimate garments fashioned from it were by far her top sellers, and she knew that most of these lovely pieces would be snapped up within days of being placed out on display. If she didn't take the time to sift through them as soon as they arrived, she might not get another chance to appreciate their beauty. Out of the corner of her eye, however, she glimpsed Sora sidling near, gliding with feline grace to join Jenny behind the sales counter.
"I'm serious," the younger woman insisted, drawing close enough to hiss the words in Jenny's ear. She prodded her boss's shoulder. "Look."
Jenny rolled her eyes again and shrugged off the persistent nudge of her assistant's furred paw, but slanted a glance up from her work anyway, humoring the girl just to get some peace.
In the space of a heartbeat, though, Jenny decided that this time Sora was absolutely right: the human male her starry-eyed associate was now studying so intently was truly worthy of a look—a very long look, in fact. Setting aside the soft pile of lacy camisoles she'd been sorting through, Jenny stared.
The newcomer was tall and long-legged, and his lean frame was certainly solidly built and attractively masculine, but he was also possessed of an athletic grace and a sun-bronzed complexion that belied the typical spacer's garb he wore. Jenny's attention was immediately drawn to the worn holster rig slanted low across his narrow hips and the blaster strapped to his thigh, and then her gaze flickered to the Corellian bloodstripes lining the seams of his dark trousers. Her eyes flashed back up to the man's face in sudden recognition.
General Han Solo, she realized, feeling her pulse flutter with excitement. Here, in Jenny's own shop, stood one of the great heroes of the rebellion that had so recently brought down the mighty Empire and freed the Core worlds from tyranny. She bit her lip to quell a grin as a secondary realization dawned: Solo also happened to be—if the gossipy news reports were to be believed—the close confidant and consort of Princess Leia Organa herself. Indeed, Jenny had caught a glimpse of the Corellian with the princess on the holovid that very morning; local news coverage of an important galactic conference they'd both attended at the palace on the outskirts of Dorthus Tal. It was a near-certainty, Jenny realized with a thrill, that the general had ventured into Blush to do a little shopping for the last surviving member of the Alderaani royal family. She drew a deep breath, feeling another quiver of nervous anticipation at the prospect of her fine apparel someday attiring such an illustrious client.
Solo had advanced a little further into the shop as Jenny and Sora stared, and he was now wandering in their general direction, milling aimlessly among the vast assortment of multi-hued bits of silk and lace that dangled from display racks and perched on shelves lining the perimeter of the spacious establishment. Jenny watched as he came to a halt in front of a prominent display almost directly opposite her position, a few meters away. With one hand resting on the butt of his blaster and the other rubbing absently over his jaw, he eyed the rack of sheer garments with a wary expression. Then, reaching out, he ran his fingers under the frilled hem of one pale nightgown before lifting the edge and drawing the voluminous fabric out to one side, his brow furrowing in obvious consternation as the material fanned out and he caught a glimpse of the many strategically placed openings in the diaphanous silk. Giving a short huff of frustration, he dropped his hand and turned away, scanning the rest of the shop with a resigned and weary air. Although he had a reputation as an especially courageous man who'd run headlong into battle with the Empire more than once, he had a dispirited expression on his face that Jenny had seen many times before—the look of a man about to admit defeat, turn tail and head for the nearest cantina.
"What did I tell you?" Sora whispered. Now standing at Jenny's side, she ran a paw between her small, upright ears and then over both sides of her angular face to smooth down her pelt, before adjusting the decorative collar she wore, ensuring that its dangling jewels were positioned properly over her furred bosom. "This one's mine," she said, and moved as if to push past Jenny and slink around the far side of the counter.
Grateful that Sora hadn't recognized their esteemed visitor, Jenny extended an arm to halt her progress. "No," she countermanded quietly. "I think I'll handle this one myself. You take over here."
As if Sora's crestfallen pout and sulky slouch weren't obvious enough, Jenny could also sense through the Force how disappointed her colleague felt to be denied the opportunity to assist such an attractive man; but Jenny could also detect a different type of dismay surging to her through that unseen energy field, and it was coming from the Corellian himself. Beneath the prevailing wash of slight frustration, myriad other emotions flowed—mild fatigue and a general restlessness, but also a heavy undercurrent of deep joy and something like sweet contentment, blended with a swirl of excited anticipation. Jenny smiled. In her expert assessment, the complex eddy of emotions coalesced to form something as beautiful as it was distinct: Han Solo was in love. The dismay she sensed drifting from him no doubt stemmed from a frustrated desire to find something special for the princess, and Jenny resolved on the spot to make sure he didn't leave her establishment disappointed.
Centering herself, she blocked out her assistant's displeasure and the trivial musings of the handful of other patrons browsing around the shop, and narrowed her concentration down to Solo alone. Leaving Sora to take her place at the counter, Jenny began weaving her way through the display shelves and holo-fitting stations towards the general's position. He swiveled around as she approached and gave her an eloquent, pleading look of befuddlement mixed with despair.
"Good afternoon," she greeted, then observed as she drew closer, "You look a bit lost."
"What gave it away?" Solo responded with a rueful smile.
His voice was a velvety baritone, rich and deep enough to prickle the hair at the back of Jenny's neck. The sensation was magnified by the fact that he was as gorgeous up-close as he was from a distance. His thick brown hair was charmingly tousled from the effects of the spring breeze outdoors, but she could see that it had been cut in a handsome military style, albeit a shade too long to be strictly regulation. When he met her gaze, Jenny was captivated by the russet, grey-green and gold mosaic of his eyes, and by the way he seemed to focus on her with warm intensity, as if she were the only being in the room. Her eyes drifted down to his mobile, smiling mouth, the intriguing scar that slanted across his chin, and the hollow of his throat that was visible at the gap of his open collar.
Jenny cleared her throat. "Considering you're standing in the section for beings with multiple lower limbs and auxiliary appendages, I'd say you are a little lost." She offered a friendly smile to soften her words. "May I offer you some assistance?"
"Please," he replied, a heavy measure of relief weighting his voice. "Feels like I've been at this for hours. I've been from one end of this town to the other and only bought one thing." He grimaced a little and sighed. "And now I'm not even sure I like it anymore."
"Why don't you show me," Jenny encouraged, "and I'll give you my expert opinion."
Solo hesitated, and Jenny could sense a spike in his feeling of indecision. He complied nevertheless, extricating a tiny, crumpled bag from one of the pockets of his black utility vest and then withdrawing from it what looked like little more than a fistful of vermilion straps and gaudy bows. She didn't need to ask where he'd purchased a garment like that; there were plenty of establishments in the seedier sections of downtown Dorthus Tal that sold such inferior merchandise. As was typical with products marketed by the lower-end shops, the material was of poor grade, the tension of the finished stitching was unbalanced, and the color of the fabric looked woefully uneven under the glow of the overhead lights. It was substandard in all aspects of quality and design, and Jenny couldn't help the small tsk of disapproval that escaped her. She lifted an eyebrow, made a sour face and shook her head.
Wincing at her reaction, Solo gave a curt nod and hastily jammed the inferior garment back into its bag. "That's what I thought," he said, looking a little nerfish. "It looked pretty good on the holo model, but…." He cast a glance around the elegant shop and then his eyes travelled back to Jenny's face as he gave a little shrug. "Now that I see this stuff…."
Jenny pursed her lips and nodded her understanding. "You're not alone," she assured him. "Many beings feel a little out of their element when it comes to purchasing intimate wear. Most only think they know what they like, until they have to choose. And then, too often, they end up in the wrong place and choose...well…." She gestured in the direction of the earlier, unwise purchase that he still held clenched in his fist. "But don't worry, General," she said, lightly resting a reassuring hand on his forearm. "You're in the right place now, and you're in luck: we've just received a shipment of truly beautiful items that I think both you and the Princess will reallylove."
Jenny felt the tensing of the muscles in Solo's arm at the same time as she saw the furrowing of his brow, and when he fixed her with a penetrating stare, she quailed inside, despite knowing for sure—thanks to the Force—that he meant her no harm.
"You know who I am," he stated, his tone decidedly cooler than it had been a moment before. His jaw took on a hard line. "And who I'm buying for, too."
Carefully, Jenny withdrew her hand, weathering the intensity of his gaze to offer him a tentative smile. "Yes, of course. I keep up on the Galactic news," she explained, "and you're something of a celebrity in this city at the moment. In fact, you both are. Everyone loves a little romance, after all, and yours is the talk of the town."
Solo winced, muttered something under his breath, and then allowed his eyes to roam around the room for a moment. The frustration Jenny had sensed in him seemed to intensify, rolling from him in waves as he considered his options. "Alright," he grumbled, as he balled up the bag containing the shoddy lingerie he'd purchased and stuffed it back into a vest pocket. "Well, I guess I'd better—"
Realizing his intentions, Jenny put out a forestalling hand. "Please; stay. I understand your misgivings, but there's no cause for concern here, General. You may be assured of my utmost discretion."
"Yeah? Well, what about your feline friend over there?" he inquired, nodding in the direction of the sales counter. Jenny directed her attention towards the rear of the shop to find her young assistant tracking their movements with an openly envious and somewhat petulant gaze.
"Sora?" she asked, her voice rising with quizzical inflection, and then shook her head. "You needn't worry about her; she has no idea who you are. To her, you're just another pretty face."
Solo's eyebrows shot up and then his face relaxed into a genuine smile. "Is that right?" he queried, seeming enormously pleased by Jenny's comment. Looking back in Sora's direction, he gave her a wink and a charming grin.
The Orryxian woman's slanted eyes grew wide and she looked, for a moment, as though she might faint on the spot. Then her furred face lit up in a wide grin of her own, showing off rows of sharp, white teeth.
Stifling the urge to laugh at Sora's elated expression, Jenny nudged the tall Corellian by the elbow, steering him away from the area where they were standing and towards the section of the shop devoted to garments suitable for humanoids. From what she'd seen of Leia Organa on the news, the Alderaani royal had a lovely, slender figure—one that would lend itself perfectly to the finer and more delicate items Jenny had in mind—and her imagination teemed now with visions of attiring the princess in the most exquisitely beautiful items Blush had to offer.
Once she had Solo situated in the proper department, she turned in a slow arc, indicating with the sweep of an outstretched hand the vast array of items from which he could choose: "We accept custom orders, of course, but I'm quite certain that any of the items we have on display in this area would look stunning on the princess. Everything you see here has been crafted from the finest materials to the highest standards for comfort, support and beauty." A glance up at Solo's slightly flummoxed expression made her hasten to add, "But of course I'd be happy to make some suggestions, to help you narrow down the selection. I'll just need a rough idea of her size."
Solo leveled a hand just below his own shoulder height. "Well, she's about this tall…," he began.
Jenny cut him short with a gentle smile. "I mean her clothing size. Her body measurements."
Solo blinked at her, his expression perfectly blank for a moment, and then he winced and dropped his gaze.
"I take it you have no idea what those might be?" Jenny inquired mildly.
Lifting his remarkable eyes to hers once more, the spacer gave an apologetic grimace, jammed his hands into his trouser pockets and then shook his head. "Sorry. I meant to find out before I left this morning," he explained, "but I guess I, uh, got distracted and forgot to do that. I had to take a wild guess when I bought that other thing," he nodded down to the pocket where he'd secreted the scrap of cheap lingerie. He held Jenny's gaze for a long moment and then his broad shoulders slumped a little and he ducked his head. "Ah, forget it," he mumbled. "I'll come back with measurements some other time. Or maybe let her do her own shopping..."
The professional side of Jenny fought to keep a straight face, though her inner self chuckled. Han Solo wasn't the first man who'd walked into her shop woefully unprepared; normally she found it mildly exasperating to be asked to render assistance in such a situation, but somehow she found the Corellian's lack of preparation and his slight awkwardness strangely endearing. Though he clearly wished to appear unconcerned, she could sense his deep disappointment and surmised that he didn't want to return to the princess empty-handed—or worse, with nothing but a fistful of tawdry, scratchy vermilion lace to show for his efforts. He was trying so hard—and failing so miserably—Jenny had to resist the sudden urge to wrap her arms around him, pat him on the back, and soothe him like a despondent child.
"We can try it your way," she proposed, drawing his gaze back to hers and giving him an encouraging smile. "So...her height is perhaps one hundred and fifty-five centimeters, then. Show me how you would best estimate her waist size."
"Tiny...about like this." He held both hands apart, curving his fingers and thumbs inward in an approximation of a slender oval.
Jenny eyed his hands. "No more than fifty-five, sixty centimeters, you'd say?"
Solo nodded in affirmation. Encouraged, Jenny continued on with her assessment. "Perfect. And her bust size?"
He turned his palms out and curved his splayed fingers, studied them a moment, and then splayed them a little wider. "I'd say they're about—"
"No, not—" Jenny interjected. This was definitely not going to work. She took a deep breath, and then smiled as an alternative means of measurement came to mind. "I have another idea," she said. "How about I see what data I can find on the holonet?"
She could see as well as feel a fresh wave of relief wash over Solo at that suggestion. She ushered him to the nearest of the holonet stations positioned strategically around the shop, and then swiftly pulled up several images of the princess from recent media broadcasts and galactic press releases. After downloading the images, she ran them through the bodymetrics software she used for specialty orders, eventually coming up with what they both agreed was a relatively accurate approximation of Leia's dimensions.
Then, measurements in hand, Jenny led Solo over to a low table filled with an assortment of silken, lacy briefs in a variety of hues, cuts and styles. All around them a selection of delicate garments dangled from padded hangers arranged on display racks: bras, camisoles, slips and chemises; negligees, robes and peignoirs. Inwardly, Jenny had to acknowledge that the sheer volume and variety of intimate apparel on offer was probably enough to send even the boldest man packing. She cast a glance at Solo's face to assess his disposition; he was certainly looking more relaxed, especially since he'd been relieved of the burden of guesswork when it came to sizing. Jenny cast her Force-sense out to gauge any residual negative energy that he might be harboring and was pleased to find that the majority of his earlier feelings of futility had been replaced by a sense of hopeful anticipation. She suspected that, with her nudging him gently in the right direction, making his first successful choice of garment would dispel any lingering dismay.
"So," she began, "did you have something particular in mind? Are you celebrating, or planning for a special occasion or….?"
The spacer shook his head. "No, nothin' like that. It's just been a really long damn war and she's had nothing to wear for years but ugly military stuff. And even that's seen better days." He released a sigh and cast his gaze around the spacious boutique. "I just want her to have some things that are a little more…." He trailed off as he gestured vaguely with one hand.
"More...suited to her sensibilities?" Jenny supplied. "More in keeping with her status?"
"I was gonna say a little more princessy," he smirked, returning his hazel gaze to Jenny's face, "but, yeah, that'll work."
Jenny smiled. "Then my suggestion is that we start with the basics," she advised. "A few simple, elegant choices for everyday wear, and then we can work our way up from there." She held up a pair of tiny, high-cut panties, turning them around in a circle so he could appreciate them from every angle. "These are part of the 'Barely There' collection. They're some of my very favorite items. Beautifully made from the finest Dramassian silk, and trimmed with matching lace." Jenny noted the look of approval and the half-grin that tugged at the corner of Solo's mouth when he got a glimpse of the rear view of the sheer garment and seemed to figure out just why they carried such an appropriate moniker.
"As you can see, they come in a variety of colors and in shades ranging from pastels to deeper jewel tones," Jenny pointed out. "And there are, of course, bras and camisoles to match each style."
Solo wasted no time in making a decision. "Those are a definite yes," he affirmed with a short nod. "I'll take 'em."
Pleased by his enthusiasm, Jenny began browsing through the stack, searching for examples in the correct size. "Which colors would you like?"
"All of 'em," he replied.
"All eighteen?"
"Yep."
Taken aback, but not wishing to offend the man or discourage a sale, Jenny hesitated.
Solo's handsome face creased in a smile, correctly surmising from her expression the reason for her pause. "She has one set like this already," he explained, reaching out to run a blunt fingertip over the lace edge of one of the sheer garments on the table. "But only one. That's why I'm here," he murmured, still caressing the delicate fabric. "I saw her in that...and she just looked so…."
Jenny felt a sudden surge of positive emotion radiating from the Corellian—desire and longing, underscored by a renewed rush of love and admiration. From the faraway look in his eyes, she guessed that whatever scene was currently replaying in his mind was a very pleasant memory indeed. Jenny cleared her throat softly, hoping to bring Solo's focus back to their endeavor.
His gold-flecked eyes flicked back to hers, and he offered a small shrug. "Anyway," he said, "it came down to a choice between buying a new sensor array or buying Leia some sexy undies. Easiest decision I ever made."
Jenny nodded and smiled. "And the right decision, too," she concurred. "But...if I may say, in my experience there are very few women who would not appreciate the luxury of variety in their intimate apparel, even for everyday wear. May I suggest you pick your very favorite colors—no more than three or four—in this style, and then choose a few more from other collections?"
Half an hour later, Jenny and her engaging guest had worked their way through almost the entire humanoid section of the shop with remarkable speed and extraordinary success. Solo had been enthusiastic and decisive, and had taken Jenny's recommendations to heart, giving the nod on almost every item she had suggested. He now had a stunning array of fanciful apparel stacked on the sales counter awaiting invoicing and wrapping: a number of different styles and cuts of lacy briefs, sheer and silky bras, as well as several different variations of nightgowns, chemises and the like. Jenny was immensely pleased with his selections; she had steered him towards several different collections ranging from the demure and romantic to the more suggestive and sexy. They were now standing at the threshold of a smaller specialty section, tucked into a deep alcove at the rear of the boutique, which was devoted to displays of some of the more daring apparel in Blush's inventory: corsets, basques and garter belts, as well as a few novelty items that Jenny had personally selected, in keeping with her own standards of quality and good taste. She hesitated to suggest an exploration of the area to the Alliance general—not because she thought he wouldn't approve, but because he'd already amassed a wardrobe of intimate wear worth a small fortune, and the racier garments in the alcove were among the most expensive in the shop.
She was composing a polite enquiry in that direction when she saw Solo's eye catch upon something of interest in the alcove. With his gaze fastened on the far corner, he moved past Jenny, wending his way through the racks and tables before finally coming to a halt in front of one of the shop's ubiquitous holo-model stations. Jenny followed in his wake. The station in the alcove was different from its counterparts in the more highly trafficked areas of the shop; newly installed and equipped with the latest in visual technology, it had cost Jenny a considerable portion of her winter profits—but she had to admit that the effects it produced were impressive. The life-size figure of a human female model was presently being projected into a darkened corner of the alcove, clad in an exquisite, if somewhat unusual, garment that Jenny had personally designed. It was an intricate two piece ensemble, with cleverly overlapping and interconnecting ribbons of smooth, glossy black satin that hugged the body and left every luscious curve artfully exposed, while tiny, modestly placed sections of soft shimmersilk managed to leave a few things to the imagination. The holo-model turned in a slow circle, pausing at intervals to strike a series of coquettish poses, showcasing the garment's features from every possible angle. It was Jenny's first foray into creating such intricate fashions, and judging by how the general's expression had been transformed into one of slack-jawed reverence as the model twirled and postured on her virtual dais, the venture had been a resounding success.
"Would you like to see how it might look on the princess herself?" Jenny queried.
Solo didn't take his eyes off of the display, but managed a short nod.
"Color?" she asked.
Solo rubbed a hand across his jaw in contemplation. "Red," he answered. "But not that washed out, sickly red, like that other piece of junk."
"I have the perfect shade in mind," Jenny assured him. She adjusted the height of the virtual model, entered the proper body measurements, approximate skin and hair coloring, and then selected a garment color code on the keypad. Together, they watched as the holo image rearranged itself into an approximation of the princess's figure, with facial features subtly blurred, now clad in the same ensemble in a luscious, deep crimson.
Solo's sharp intake of breath and the low whistle that followed left Jenny with little doubt about his opinion of her creation.
"I'm thrilled that you like it," she remarked. "This particular design can seem a little...strange, for some tastes."
Solo shook his head. "Nah, I've seen strange," he said, tearing his eyes away from the display to look at Jenny. "Like the first place I visited this morning? That was strange. Some of the stuff in that shop made me feel my age. And some of it was just...really...weird."
"Weird?"
"Yeah, there was some sort of mirrored nightgown; underwear cut from phosphorescent moss," he listed, "and a kind of bodysuit—I guess that's what it was—made of living Kvartha strangle vines." He shrugged and waved one hand in a dismissive gesture. "You know, the galaxy's a big place and everybody's got their kinks; I try not to judge. But a bra made from the corpses of two taxidermied Neimoidian chickens? That was just...disturbing. Not to mention ugly."
Jenny laughed at the Corellian's catalog of fashion travesties. "Did you start out at a place in the east end of town called Frisky Business, by any chance?"
"That's the one."
"Well, that's no surprise, then. They're rather well-known around here for their outlandish merchandise." She turned back to the holo station and tapped a few more commands into the keypad, and the holo image morphed again as it returned to its standard program.
Solo angled around to face her, hooking a thumb into his belt as he nodded in agreement, "Yeah, most of it was just bizarre. Still...there were a few things that were interesting," he admitted, quirking a smile. "I did kinda like the stuff that lights up, and the stuff that responds to touch. And they had this holographic fabric that you can program to show nebulae and meteor showers, or even simulate the look of a jump into hyperspace…. " He trailed off with a small, slightly self-conscious shrug.
"I see," Jenny pursed her lips as if in thought. "And how would the princess feel about such...interesting novelties in lingerie?"
"Well…," he drawled, cracking a grin. "Like I said, I'm pretty sure her tastes are a little more...princessy."
Jenny laughed. "I've no doubt her royal status has something to do with that but, in my experience, Alderaani women tend to favor more demure styles and—well, modesty in general."
The Corellian quirked up an eyebrow in interest. "You bump into many Alderaani women here in Dorthus Tal?" he queried.
"Not here in the shop, no," Jenny shook her head, "but my own mother was from Alderaan —from an island city called Belleau-a-Lir."
"Oh," Solo's brow furrowed as he mumbled an apology, and Jenny felt a wash of dismay coming from him. "Was she there when—"
"Oh, no," Jenny hastened to reassure him. "No, she's still alive. She moved here with her parents and three sisters when she was a teenager, and then married my father and has lived here ever since. I spent a great deal of time with my aunts and female cousins when I was growing up, enough to recognize that there were a few distinctly Alderaani qualities they never quite lost—one of them being a certain modest sensibility, I suppose."
Solo gave a thoughtful nod of recognition.
Jenny continued, "Obviously, I don't know the princess personally, but my family ties to Alderaan make me especially interested in her welfare and activities. I watch every speech she gives these days, and I can definitely see a bit of that inherent dignity and grace in her. She governs her behavior by the high standards of her people; you can tell in the way she carries herself, the way she speaks, and the way she interacts with others. It isn't hard to imagine that she also has a deep love for and appreciation of beauty, and for beautiful things."
"She does," Solo confirmed. "She doesn't need 'em, though. She's nothin' like the spoiled, prissy kind of princess I expected her to be when I first met her." The corner of his mouth quirked up in fond recollection, and then he sobered, his brows drawing together. "But she's had to live without beautiful things for years now, thanks to the Empire, and I'm sure she'd keep on living without 'em forever, if she had to, but now that things are starting to settle down." he trailed off on a little shrug.
"You want to give her back a few of those beautiful things," Jenny finished. "Your princess sounds like a remarkable woman."
Solo's changeable eyes seemed to darken to a warm green as he studied Jenny's face and considered her words. A tender smile played at the corner of his mobile mouth. "Yeah," he said. "She is." He drew a deep breath and expelled it in a rush, casting his gaze back towards the corner of the alcove where the generic holo-model continued to pose and twirl. "I just don't know if she's game for that little ribbon number," he commented with a jerk of his chin, referring to the garment they'd viewed together on the holo model. "I'd like to think so, but maybe I ought to ask her about that one before I spend what's left of my credits."
Jenny smiled her understanding and was just about to guide the general towards the rear sales counter to tally up his purchases when she felt a peculiar tingling through the Force, the telltale energy of another Force-sensitive person in her periphery. Casting out a searching tendril, she discerned the presence of a strong and distinctive signature, one that was both wholly new to her, and yet oddly recognizable. She was just homing in on it when she heard the rich alto voice of Leia Organa floating to her ears from somewhere behind her.
"You have no idea how relieved I am to find you here and not downtown at the Peek-a-Boo Hot Stop."
Jenny swiveled around in tandem with her Corellian customer to see the princess herself approaching, wending her way through the maze of racks and tables, with her large brown eyes fixed on Han Solo. She wore a long, lightweight, fitted coat in a pale shade of cream, over a simple belted tunic in the same color, the hem of which was adorned with decorative beading that extended to mid-thigh, over black fitted tights and a pair of sensibly low-heeled shoes. Her long, dark hair was swept up in one of the attractive, intricately braided arrangements that Jenny had become accustomed to seeing on the Princess of Alderaan in the media, and the type of style that brought back fond memories of hours spent at her own mother's side as a child, watching with fascination while she arranged her hair in a similar fashion. The delicate Veda sun-pearls that dangled from the princess's ears completed the ensemble, and the overall effect was supremely elegant. Jenny marveled at how, even in ordinary street clothes, Organa managed to look so stylish and so quintessentially royal.
Seeing her, Solo's handsome face erupted in a brilliant smile. He waited alongside Jenny with his thumbs hooked in his belt, but his deliberately casual air failed to disguise how avidly he observed the graceful movements of the princess as she moved closer. The Alderaani woman's gaze remained fixed on the general, and she returned his bright smile as she drew near. Reaching out, she placed a hand lightly on his arm in greeting and Jenny felt an arc of joy flash between the pair. The brief connection ignited a spark of crackling energy so intense it caught her off-guard and she reacted with mild start, but neither Solo nor the princess took any notice of her subtle response. They were focused entirely on each other, and Jenny could feel the yearning and the tendrils of love and admiration that stretched between them. They didn't kiss, or even embrace, but the waves of vibrant energy filling the space around them were real and powerful—and far more meaningful than any such outward displays. Jenny bit back a smile of her own; she was a romantic at heart, and it delighted her to see a couple so genuinely devoted to one another.
"Nice detective work, Princess. How'd you—" Solo cut himself off as he seemed to reconsider his question. He gave a little shake of his head. "Never mind." He angled towards Jenny and gave her a nod. "Leia, this is Jenny. She's been helping me spend my money. Jenny, this is Leia."
Slightly taken aback by Solo's casual introduction of such a prominent and important public figure, Jenny hesitated for a moment, uncertain of the proper protocol. As the child of an Alderaani woman, she was almost tempted to drop into a deep curtsy, as she'd seen her mother and aunts demonstrate once or twice when they told stories of old times back on their homeworld. She'd never curtsied before in her life but now, face-to-face with the last surviving member of the royal family, she felt it was perhaps the correct thing to do. Before she could decide, though, the princess—evidently much accustomed to such a consternated reaction—extended her hand. Jenny offered her own in response and found it warmly clasped as the other woman offered a friendly smile.
"You certainly have some lovely items," Leia observed, releasing Jenny's hand and casting an appreciative gaze around the entirety of the shop.
"Thank you. And, if I may say so, General Solo has excellent taste." She cast a glance at the Corellian and saw him giving the princess a pointed look that said Told you so. Suppressing the desire to laugh, Jenny continued, "I think you'll be pleased, Your Highness."
"Please, call me Leia," the princess responded with gentle insistence.
"Leia," Jenny echoed obligingly, inclining her head in acknowledgement and privately marveling at the princess's cordial demeanour. She seemed nothing at all like the sharp-tongued, icy-cool leader of the erstwhile Rebellion that had so often been depicted on galactic news before the fall of the Empire. This woman seemed warm and sensitive, and entirely human. "If you'd like to follow me, I'll show you the collection so far."
Jenny led the pair to the sales counter, noting that it was presently unattended. Her gaze tracked Sora to the far side of the shop, where the Orryxian had ventured out to offer assistance to another customer. Jenny breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She didn't think that Sora would openly moon over their handsome visitor in the presence of his companion, but she was grateful not to have to put that theory to the test.
Upon reaching the counter, Jenny stepped aside and watched Leia's eyes grow wide at the sight of the stack of merchandise piled there. "Han," the princess intoned, eyeing the general warily. "You said you were going to buy a few things."
"That's a few." Solo winked at Jenny over Leia's head.
"Honestly, I don't need nearly as many as—oh!" As she was speaking, she'd lifted the scalloped edge of a gauzy peignoir that trailed over the edge of the counter, and then fanned the fabric out, her eyes widening even further as they took in the details of the delicate negligee. Jenny saw the delighted spark that brightened her dark eyes, and the way she bit her lip to stifle a smile. "Oh, this is lovely."
Pleased by the deep sincerity in Leia's voice, Jenny then began to review the purchases in detail, lifting and twirling every garment in turn for the princess's consideration. Leia remarked on the beauty and design of each article, and the looks of appreciation and expressions of breathless awe she bestowed on Solo's selections filled Jenny with a glowing sense of pride. The Corellian remained close by, leaning a casual hip against the sales counter and nodding his approval as he was afforded a second look at the items he'd chosen. He beamed smugly at the princess, who slanted him looks of wonderment and returned his knowing smiles, while Jenny sensed that palpable current of energy and emotion continuing to flow between the couple, perfectly aligned and harmoniously balanced.
After they'd finished viewing the final item, the princess shook her head, blinking at the wide assortment of elegant finery as if she couldn't quite believe her eyes. "It's all absolutely stunning," she said at length, and then shifted her gaze back to the general and quirked a smile. "I'm thankful that you chose Jenny to help you part with your credits, Han," she said with a teasing lilt. "I can't imagine what sort of things I might be looking at if I'd actually found you at the Hot Stop instead."
Solo raised his eyebrows and directed both index fingers towards his chest with an exaggerated look of injured disbelief. "Me? Pokin' around a sleazy place like that?" he exclaimed in an incredulous tone. He lowered his brows and pressed his lips together in a tight grimace as he shook his head. "No way, Sweetheart. I'd never dream of buying anything from one of those gimmicky joints. Obviously," he gestured at the array of beautiful lingerie, "I've got way better taste than that."
Jenny angled her face away, feigning a cough to mask a laugh. Gathering her composure, she turned back in time to see Solo duck his head to whisper a few words in the princess's ear, and saw him gesture in the direction of the alcove where the more risqué garments were set out on display. Biting her lip, Leia turned her head to cast a glance around the perimeter of the shop and then gave a slight nod in response. Jenny was acutely aware that the princess's feelings of elation and ardor had risen steadily as she appraised the fine apparel that the general had selected for her, and this barely discernible movement was accompanied by a sharp rise in both of those heady emotions, as well as another: anticipation.
Catching Jenny's eye, Solo jerked his chin toward the alcove. "Jenny," he asked. "Could you…?"
"Of course."
With Solo and the princess trailing behind her, Jenny performed a quick survey of the enclosed area of the alcove. Then, finding it vacant, she ushered them both inside. The princess's initial look of astonishment at the uniquely erotic collection on exhibit there soon gave way to one of curiosity, and then fascination. Her rapt gaze traveled from one side of the alcove to the other, and then lingered on the holo station in the furthest corner of room where the holo-model was running through its preset program. Jenny stepped over to the display and keyed in the proper sequence that would reload the image of the crimson ensemble selected earlier by the general.
"Take your time," she advised, "and whenever you're ready, just come back to the sales counter. I'll have all of your other purchases wrapped and ready for you."
The holo went dark, and as it flickered back to life Jenny gave the couple a smile and a polite nod, and then turned to leave. Solo slanted a furtive glance at the princess to ensure her attention remained focused on the model, and then Jenny saw his hand perform a quick dive into the depths of his vest pocket. In a swiftly surreptitious move, he pressed his earlier, objectionable purchase—still tucked away in its crumpled bag—into Jenny's palm with a sly half-grin and a conspiratorial wink.
Jenny accepted the parcel without batting an eye, giving only a slight nod of acknowledgement as she concealed the small bundle in her hands and turned away. Making her way back to the sales counter, she pitched the general's regrettable purchase straight into the recycler and then turned as Sora approached her position.
"Where are they?" The young Orryxian fairly bounced on the balls of her feet as she craned her neck around to peer in the direction of the alcove.
"Somewhere you're not going to be," Jenny said firmly. She began to gather up the general's purchases that had been left strewn across the counter. "Help me fold and wrap these."
"Are they in the—"
"Sora," Jenny's tone was a warning. "May I remind you that this is a place of business. If you're not going to respect—"
"Okay, okaaaay," Sora grumbled, dragging her slanted green eyes away from the darkened alcove to give Jenny first a sullen pout, and then an apologetic smile. "But they're so gorgeous together, I just wanted to see what they—"
Jenny gave Sora a sharp frown to discourage that line of discussion, and then watched her chagrined young assistant slink around to take her proper place behind the counter. At intervals, the Orryxian's curious eyes continued to flicker towards the alcove, but dutifully she began removing the tags from the merchandise and laying out sheets of Jenny's signature black-edged blush-pink tissue in preparation for wrapping each delicate item.
Leaving Sora to her work, Jenny gathered a few abandoned items from the discard rack that stood to one side of the counter, and then ventured out to the floor to return them to their proper places. She purposely avoided drawing too near to the alcove; she could well imagine that such stolen moments together were rare indeed for the famous couple, and she wished to afford them the privacy they deserved. Although they'd only just met, Jenny felt an odd sort of kinship with the young princess; perhaps it was their shared connection to Alderaan that forged the link, or the natural bond that existed between them through the Force. Either way, Jenny hoped that their paths would cross again, and she reminded herself to slip her personal contact information into the bags along with the order, just in case.
Stopping to tidy a low table that sat off to the side of the secluded spot, Jenny's eyes caught a flutter of movement from within the recess. Stealing a glance over the rows of racks between her and the entrance of the alcove, she saw the princess gazing at her reflection in the full-length mirror affixed to the rear wall. Swaying from side to side with a playful air, she was beaming a radiant smile, and clasping a tiny black leather corset in front of her. As Jenny watched, Solo stepped into the frame to stand behind her, wrapping her—still hugging the racy garment tight to her body—in his arms. He dipped his head low, and Jenny watched as the princess angled her face up to his, and they shared a lingering kiss.
Observing the tender scene, Jenny felt a strange ripple in the Force. The image before her flickered like the resetting of the holo model's program, shifting and evolving into a vision of what she recognized immediately as a glimpse into some future moment in time. It was just a fleeting impression of the couple—one moment appearing as youthful as they were now, and the next appearing grey-haired, wrinkled and frail with advanced age, with a brief flickering of every phase of life in between. In Jenny's vision they were surrounded not by racks of satin and lace, but by a shifting assortment of family and friends. Through that ephemeral window, Jenny sensed a number of children yet unborn; progeny who would be as loved and protected as they were wanted. In a flash, Jenny knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that, no matter what else the future held in store for them, the Corellian and his princess were bonded for life.
The sense of premonition faded and Jenny found herself still staring over the racks into the depths of the alcove, so she witnessed the moment when the princess cocked a suggestive eyebrow at her companion and then sashayed away in the direction of the adjoining dressing room, the black leather corset dangling from her fingertips. Jenny cast a furtive and slightly guilty glance in Sora's direction to ensure that her assistant was still attending to her duties, and then returned her gaze to the alcove, biting back a smile as she saw that the general was still staring after Leia, hands braced on his hips in an attitude of tense indecision. Turning away, he fidgeted for a moment, pacing the floor outside the changing rooms and rubbing one hand across the back of his neck, clearly wrestling with his better nature. Then, with a hasty glance over his shoulder, he ducked through the doorway in Leia's wake, and disappeared from view.
Through the Force, a flare of excitement and mirth from the hidden couple coincided with the distant peal of Leia's laughter and the deeper rumbling of the Corellian's voice, all of which reminded Jenny to mind her own business. Curtailing her extrasensory perceptions and resolutely turning her back to the alcove, she tried to give her full attention to the tasks at hand—though she couldn't quite suppress a smile.
The End
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Authors' Note: This fluffy stuff comes courtesy of every reader of The Only Constant who asked for a follow-up scene showing Han shopping for lingerie. Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! They really mean a lot.
As may already be obvious to the woman herself, this story is especially dedicated to JennyCBS, with many thanks for the steady support you offer through your reviews and your correspondence with us, and for your continued (gentle) encouragement for us to actually get this thing written. When you said recently that you'd given up on ever seeing it, we had to down-tools on everything else and get it done, just for you. Mwah!