Many Bothans
By Hold-out Trout
Disclaimer: The bright, shiny jewel that is Star Wars does not belong to me. I would handle it better. :-D
Author's note: This ficlet owes a lot to Limelight's TNQLL and Assortments. Without her, I never would have dared to put two and two together. The ficlet also owes a lot to insanity and RotJ, but that's another story. I hope no one out there has a huge sentimental attachment to a certain line, or I'm gonna get in trouble.
"I dare you."
The woman, who looked serene and composed in most situations (including life-threatening ones), sighed and ran her fingers through her newly cropped hair once more.
"I will not make this into a joke!"
Her companion raised himself off the bed onto his elbow. He grinned unrepentantly. "No one else will know. You would have said something similar anyway, and you do mean it, don't you?"
The woman grimaced and threw up her hands. "That's not the point!"
The man changed tactics. "You told me you were going to start taking things a little less seriously. And you could use a little levity in this situation, if only for yourself."
Mon Mothma thought he might have a point. As much as she admired what the Bothans had done, she knew they expected to get some kind of compensation for it someday. She didn't want to deal with that political play when it came back to bite them in the rear.
Wes came over and stood behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, probably wrinkling her dress, she thought irritably.
"Just think about it. I have to get back to the other pilots or Wedge'll tan my hide." He kissed the back of her neck and was gone.
She frowned into the mirror. She thought about the dare and practiced the line.
"Many Bothans died to bring us this information."
She tried not to smile. There was no way she would pull this off.