Title: Xiphoid Thoughts
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona
Rating: PG-13
Summary: An ‘ABC’ fic- each sentence starts with the next letter of the alphabet. Gentle romantic slash.
Archive: I don’t have one at the moment. I’ll put it in various places, and if you want it, just ask.
Warnings: None.
Timeline: EU, but probably not canon to the books as I haven’t read them. Ten years or so after RotJ.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them. Occasionally, this is the cause of angst. The rest of the time, I just have fun and accept the fact that I make no profit.
Feedback: amchau@popullus.net, please. This is my first Luke/Han, but I won’t say ‘be gentle’. Be as harsh as you like- I’m just flattered you’ve taken the time. Public or private, I don’t mind.
Notes: Many thanks to Karen for the beta. The word ‘xiphoid’ is Greek, though it’s in my Concise Oxford. It means ‘sword-shaped’.
“Are you okay, kid?” Han asked, frowning at the younger pilot, who was pacing up and down their bedroom, muttering.
“…but on the other hand…”
“Come in, Luke, Falcon to Luke!” Han tried, starting to wonder if his lover of ten years had finally lost his mind. “Do you want me to come and… and… do something?”
“Err,” Luke said, seeming to see Han at last. “Fine.”
“Gods, kid, are you even listening?”
“Han, I’m sorry, what did you say?” Luke asked, sitting on the bunk beside him and looking genuinely remorseful.
“I _said_, are you okay?”
“Just about. Karl- that boy who came in last week, determined to become a Jedi and asking me to train him- has turned into a real headache, that’s all.”
“Luke, try not to let him get to you. Most of the new ones either settle down or leave soon enough.”
“Not Karl. Other than death itself, nothing’s going to stop him becoming a Jedi, but he is the whiniest, most impatient, most reckless student I’ve ever had.”
/Possibly a case of the student too much like the teacher/, Han thought with an inner smile, which must have shown through a little.
Querulously, Luke asked, “What’s the smile for? Reckless students aren’t really funny, you know.”
“Sorry, Luke,” Han answered, not looking the least bit sincere. “This one’s for you, actually.”
“Ulterior motive there, Han? Very clever wiggle, though.”
“Who’s asking to be kissed now, oh Jedi mine?” he asked, making Luke smile back and continue the quote-- an old Corellian love-poem-- teasingly.
“Xiphoid thoughts again, Han Solo? You’re running out of surprises.”
“Zip it,” the pilot said, and leant in for the kiss he felt he deserved, for all that hard work breaking Luke out of his black mood.