Sweet Surrender
By Justine Graham and Erin Darroch
A/N: Cicatrick, we adore you. Please forgive us for this egregiously sweet dollop of ridiculousness, but we thought "birthday" and "ice cream" would go together well and make you smile. Here's wishing you a very happy Birthday Eve, and a wonderful day tomorrow, too, with lots of love. xo -ED & JG
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The moment Leia lifted those deep-brown eyes to his, Han knew he was done for.
Neither of them had expected there to be anything remaining in the freezer at all. Nearing the end of their slow journey to Bespin, the three living occupants of the Falcon had long ago emptied the small insulated chest of anything even remotely resembling food, including a few long-forgotten items that defied identification but were nevertheless deemed edible in a pinch. With little else in the way of repairs or maintenance left to do on the small ship, Han had finally decided to defrost and clean the machine, and Leia had offered to help; the last thing they'd expected to find in it was ice cream.
The years-thick layer of frost that clung to the interior of the compact appliance had engulfed the tiny paper cup and hidden it from view until the moment when Han knocked away a chunk of ice and unearthed the tasty treat. Interminably sick of rations, the sight of the single-serving cup of Beebleberry Ripple clinging to the bottom of the freezer was enough to incite a friendly riot.
"It's mine," Leia said, diving down and balancing on the tips of her toes to fumble for the cup. "I saw it first."
"Nuh uh. My ship, my freezer," Han growled. "And nobody messes with my snacks."
Despite his longer reach, he nearly tumbled headfirst into the sub-zero compartment in his haste to retrieve the sweet treat. Triumphant, he pulled himself upright and then brandished the cup over his head, goading Leia while she stood with her arms folded petulantly across her chest, playfully sulking over the loss.
The princess dropped her gaze, caught her bottom lip between her teeth and traced a pattern on the deck plates with one stockinged foot. "But you know it's my favourite thing," she said plaintively, and then flicked her shimmering, irresistible eyes up to meet his.
Han knew that look. It hit him right in the solar plexus and sent jolts of electricity firing in every direction, out through every limb and straight to his head like a hit of spice, powerful and intoxicating. He felt a slow smile spreading across his face.
Leia wanted to play.
"You want it?" he drawled enticingly as he dangled the dessert up high. "Come and get it."
Leia's dark eyes danced as she quickly closed the distance between them, reaching up to bat at his hand in a series of little hops, trying in earnest to knock the cup out of his grasp as he angled his body this way and that, fending her off. Then—clearly aware that she was outmatched in terms of both size and strength—she paused, chewing at the inside of her cheek for a moment before her expression softened into a flirtatious smile, signalling a change in tactics.
She sidled up close, so close Han could feel the heat radiating from her body and smell the light, floral scent of her hair. Trailing a finger in a meandering path down the centre of his chest, she lifted those remarkable eyes to his once more.
"Give it to me, Han," she implored, her rich voice warm and sultry. "Please."
The sheer audacity of her blatant appeal to his baser instincts made him want to laugh out loud, but the sound of his name—in that tone of voice, coming from Leia's lips—was enough to short-circuit his cognitive faculties. He was nearly overcome by a powerful urge to toss the ice-cream aside, grab her up and devour the smooth, creamy skin of her neck instead. But he stood his ground, gathered every shred of his self-control, and jutted his jaw out at her.
"No chance."
"What if I told you it's almost my birthday?" she said in a lilting tone, inching a little closer. She was near enough now to lean forward and press a kiss to the hollow at the base of his throat. Her lips were soft and warm, the scent of her hair and skin deeply alluring as she peered up at him. Han swallowed hard.
"I'd say 'nice try', Sweetheart, but I know your birthday isn't for another four months." He shifted his stance slightly and cleared his throat. "And even if it was, I ain't giving up that easy."
Before he knew what was happening, Leia had pressed her lithe frame against his, erasing what little remained of the narrow gap between them and slipping one arm around his waist. "I'll make it worth your while,Flyboy," she whispered, splaying her other hand over his chest and stretching up on tiptoe to bring her lips to within a hairsbreadth of his. "If you're lucky, maybe I'll let you have a taste…."
Despite himself, Han couldn't contain the rough groan that escaped his throat. His predicament worsened when Leia snaked a hand down between them, sliding her flat palm lightly over the front of his trousers, seeming to delight in the deep shudder that went through him, evoked by her caress. The warm rush of her breath across his lips and the feeling of her supple body pressing against him was too much to take. The container of ice-cream, utterly forgotten, fell from his hand to the deck with a dull thud and rolled away as Han reached down to grip Leia's hips and tug her tightly against him. He dipped his head down to capture her full, sweet lips and—
"Gotcha!"
Leia bolted away and launched herself headlong for the palm-sized carton, executing a perfect sliding dive across the deck with Han close at her heels. But she'd misjudged the degree of slippage inherent in socks on smooth metal plates, falling a little short of her goal and allowing Han the fraction of a second he needed to gain the upper hand. Leia's fingers had barely grazed the edge of the container before he was on top of her and knocked it out of her grasp. Then he tumbled her onto her back and straddled her compact frame, preventing her from escaping to claim the prize, while she laughed and grappled with his hands in a half-hearted effort to get away.
Chortling, Han planted his hands on the deck on either side of her head, using the weight of his body to keep her pinned. "I warned you," he said in a mock-menacing tone as he rose above her on straightened arms, "nobody messes with my snacks."
[*Whose snacks?*]
Han looked up just in time to see his Wookiee co-pilot shuffle in and scoop up the wayward ice cream cup in one shaggy paw. Leia craned her neck to follow Han's gaze, and the two of them watched, open-mouthed and horrified as Chewbacca peeled back the top, lifted the frozen treat to his lips, tipped back his massive head and squeezed the contents straight into his open mouth. Crumpling the paper packaging between his thick fingers, he smacked his wide lips and then slanted an amused azure glance down at the tussling pair on the floor.
[*Delicious*], he declared, before tossing the waste into the nearby recycler and then shambling off down the corridor, soon disappearing from view.
"Damn," Han muttered. "Sneaky Wookiee." He looked down at Leia and burst out laughing at the look of outrage on her pretty features.
"You!" she accused, playfully beating on his chest and shoulders with her fists. "You cost me ice cream. Ice cream! Argh!"
"Me?" Han exclaimed in mock indignation, laughingly fending off her attack with one hand. "You're the one who had to go and get greedy about it. I was all set to let you win."
"Hah! Let me win," Leia scoffed, and then shifted beneath him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips, pulling him down. "Admit it. I had you. I had you big-time."
He smiled and settled down upon her then. "Sweetheart, you can have me big-time, anytime you want."
Leia's laughing groan of dismay was a sweeter payoff than any frozen confection, and when she finally stopped giggling long enough to kiss him, all thoughts of ice cream simply melted away.
The End
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