Flirtatious Administrations

Beru scarcely passed the hallway when she saw her father and Owen enter the front door and stopped in her tracks. Watching Owen limp agonizingly past her father, she wondered if it was due to something her father did, or if he hurt his leg during the barroom brawl. She gazed at her mother as the older woman calmly came to her side.

"Owen could use a bit of first aid," Tam informed them as he closed the door.

"Beru, take Owen into the refresher and I'll make a poultice for his eye and nose." Tulii spoke as she went into the kitchen.

Without thinking about it, Beru went to Owen and took him by the hand to do as her mother said. "Sit on the stool, and we'll clean off the blood." Beru spoke softly once they entered the refresher. She let go of his hand to get a soft washcloth and put it under the water.

Owen stood just inside the refresher, quietly watching Beru. His hand still tingled pleasantly where her hand had touched his, and he wished she had never let go.

After wringing the cloth just enough so it would keep from dripping all over, she turned to look up at him. "Sit down, so I can reach better." She gestured to the stool.

Owen silently obeyed, and Beru looked at him with concern as he held his ribs while lowering himself upon the stool, his face grimaced in obvious pain. She then remembered how the big man at the bar was squeezing Owen around the waist. "Once we've cleaned off the dried blood, you can take off your tunic and I'll wrap those ribs." She said as she started gently dabbing at his face.

"Ouch!" He pulled his head away.

"Be still!" She insisted as she persisted with cleaning off the dried blood.

He reached up and took her hand. "Please, let me." He said as his other hand took the cloth. He looked in the mirror as he started to clean the blood from his nose, upper lip and chin. His other hand still gently clasped hers.

Beru watched as Owen wiped his face. She understood how it did not seem to hurt as much when washing one's own injuries as when someone else did it. She also felt warmth rising within her as he held her hand, and longed for him to embrace the rest of her. She could feel herself blushing at the thought. Silly girl, you don't even know if he wants you in that way! Yet, if he doesn't, why is he still holding my hand? As she was thinking, she suddenly realized he was looking back at her and that he was finished cleaning the blood from his face. She lowered her gaze as she blushed slightly.

"Well now," she cleared her throat, "um, you should take off your tunic."

"Um, that won't be necessary, really," his cheeks flushed red as well. "I'm ok."

"Nonsense… I saw how you looked when you sat down. You're in a lot of pain." She reached for the belt that kept his tunic closed.

"I'll be fine, honest." He grabbed her hands.

"You'll be fine, because I'll make sure you will be." She pulled her hands away easily, for he was not holding very tight. "Now, take off your tunic." She insisted as she poked him in the ribs with a finger.

"Ouch, hey," He protested as he jumped slightly in surprise. She kept poking at him, and he tried to grab her hands again but she moved too quickly. "Ouch, stop it!"

"Not until you take off the tunic." Beru grinned.

"Ok, ok, I surrender!" He laughed even though it hurt.

"Alright, then," Beru crossed her arms in front of her and arched her eyebrows as she waited for Owen to remove the requested garment.

"You have a mean streak, woman." He had a teasing tone to his voice as he slowly took off his shirt.

She admired the well-defined muscles in his shoulders, arms and chest as they were revealed by his stripping them of their covering. "I just know how to get what I want." Beru's eyes widened and she blushed even harder than before when she realized what she had just said. To hide her embarrassment, she turned and looked in the cabinets for the bandages she needed to wrap Owen's tender ribs.

Owen looked quickly up at Beru when he detected a rather seductive timbre to her voice, but she had already turned from him. He shook his head, thinking he had only imagined it. Wishful thinking, bub. He thought as he finished shrugging out of his tunic with a wince.

Just then, Beru's ten-year-old sister came in. "Here is the poultice mom made," she said as she placed the tray that she was carrying on the counter. "She said she made enough for his knee and ribs, too. Daddy told her he saw Owen hold his ribs when he got out of the landspeeder." Her eyes widened when she looked at Owen. "Sand mites, Owen, that shiner is a beaut!"

Owen harrumphed before replying laughingly, "I'm glad you approve, Dama."

She grinned mischievously, "And I'm glad you're glad I approve."

"Thank you, Dama, now go." Beru said firmly as she found the bandages she needed and turned to face Owen.

"Huh, that was rude." Dama frowned at her older sister before stomping out of the room.

Beru sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, feeling bad how she treated Dama. I'll make it up to her later, she thought as she opened her eyes again. She smiled almost bashfully at Owen as their eyes met.

"Um, I guess we'll put the poultice on the eye first, then your knee then ribs." She spoke as she took the lid off the smaller of the jars and used the provided spoon to get out the thick, aromatic pap. She gently spread the hot substance around Owen's eye and nose.

Owen forced himself not to pull away from Beru's gentle administrations. A large part of him enjoyed her attentions. He sat quietly, afraid if he spoke, it would break the spell under which he felt they were under. He felt her breath on his cheek as she leaned in close while dabbing on the concoction her mother had made, and he was tempted to lean towards her and kiss those soft, full lips. He barely noticed as the poultice worked its magic and the throbbing ache from his nose and eye faded.

"Ok…" Beru said as she finished with the face and she pulled away from him. "Now, let's put some on your knee." She leaned down to roll up one leg of his pants. She was dismayed when she could not roll the fabric up past his knee. Looking up at him, she blushed as she said softly, "you'll have to take off your pants." She looked to the side, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

Owen swallowed, and tried to roll his pants further up to avoid any more embarrassment, but they just would not go any further. "Um, ok, but, excuse me, I have to stand up…" He was blushing as well.

"Oh, yeah," Beru's voice squeeked humiliatingly as she straightened and backed away from him. She then turned her back to him so he could lower his pants in semi-privacy.

Owen involuntarily groaned as he rose. Then he lowered his pants, making sure his boxers stayed in place. He felt rather uncomfortable being so unclothed in Beru's presence, and fervently hoped he did not make a fool of himself. "Ok," he said as he let his pants drop to the floor, "I'm ready."

Beru turned, expecting him to be sitting once more on the stool. She swallowed as she forced herself not to give him the once over, but could not help admiring the solid strength of his upper body. "Um, sit down, please."

"Oh, yeah, ok," Owen complied with a grunt.

"Hm," Beru bit her lower lip as she thought, "maybe you should prop your leg on the counter." She winced in sympathy when she noticed the strain on his face as he did what she said. As gently as she could, she applied the thick warm paste from the other jar on his bruised knee and wrapped it with the bandages.

Owen felt warmth rise within his heart as he watched Beru's face, and found himself hoping that she felt the same affection for him as he felt for her. He longed to reach up to caress her cheek. He wanted to untie her hair bun and lovingly run his fingers through her hair. He wanted to do a lot of things to show her how he felt.

"Alright, you can lower your leg now." She said softly as she finished with his knee and turned toward him to administer the poultice to his ribs.

Owen sat with his legs apart and struggled to breathe normally as Beru plastered the pasty substance upon his ribs. He swallowed as she leaned toward him to wrap the bandages around his body. He could smell her sweet perfume, and his body betrayed his rising passion.

"Does that feel alright?" She whispered as one hand lingered on his chest.

Their eyes met as Owen placed a trembling hand upon hers. His other hand rose to stroke her cheek. "Yes, thank you." He swallowed nervously before adding. "I… I'm sorry for how I spoke to you earlier today… in the landspeeder."

Beru's pace quickened at his touch, and she had to force herself to concentrate on her reply to his apology. "I'm sorry for what I said, too." She said as she leaned her face into his caress. Her heart pounded so hard, she would not have been surprised if he could hear it. "I… I only wanted to dance with you."

Their lips were only inches apart now, and Owen leaned his head so the gap narrowed, yet found himself saying, "I don't dance." Idiot! You stupid, stupid, idiot! He cursed himself.

"Oh," Beru frowned as she pulled away slightly. "Why, is it some sort of religious taboo for you?" She blushed.

"No," he exclaimed, then finished awkwardly, "I just don't dance." iYou idiot, tell her you can't dance!/i He told himself, but then he thought better of his own advice. What if she doesn't want me because I can't dance? Then he thought again, What if she doesn't want me because I DON'T dance? Perhaps if she knows I can't dance she'll teach me…now that would be nice.

He opened his mouth to confess his severe lack of dancing proficiency, but was interrupted when Dama came running in. She danced from one foot to the other with a strained look on her face. "I'm sorry, but I really have to go!"