Mergers and Acquistions

By Susan Zahn
useakiss@gmail.com

Art by Kristin
klbrown@gmail.com
and
Leela Starsky
leelastarsky@gmail.com

see You Could Use Another Good Kiss home page
for applicable legal statements and disclaimers

Part 3

Home | Back to Author's List | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

This story is rated NC-17. Please stop now if you're under 17 or sensitive to adult-themed material.

True to Tod Rees' word, they arrived at their hotel within moments of boarding one of the faster and more private shuttle pods that could be called up from one of the transport stops scattered throughout the space station. Along the way, Han and Leia caught tantalizing glimpses of storefronts and open courtyards filled with vivid green and blue flora and touched with colorful flashes of flowers, statues, and water fountains. The crowds of well-to-do and influential beings from all corners of the galaxy milled and strolled among the shops and courtyards. At one point Leia even spotted an impressive waterfall--the most obvious example of opulent wealth--that she remembered from a childhood visit. Even though it was late morning on Ord Mantell, the resort never really had a downtime since guests arrived around the clock. The thoroughfares, shops, and other establishments of entertainment were always open and always busy, no matter the hour.

Leia's silent study of the passing wonders was interrupted by a grunt from the man at her side. She glanced at Han and he held up his directions key.

"I'm pretty sure this functions as the hotel key, too. I don't think we'll need to stop at the front desk to check in. It looks like all that's already taken care of."

Leia gave a little smile and nodded in appreciation. "Good, that'll save us a little time." She breathed a secret sigh of relief at being spared the potential embarrassment of checking into a hotel with a man with whom she wasn't involved, particularly Han Solo. Really, if she had hopes of doing this sort of undercover work in the future she'd have to get over this old-fashioned and out-of-place propriety, but still...she was embarrassed by the prospect and didn't doubt that Kristin would be tickled pink for months if she ever found out. A pity that information will never leave Ord Mantell--not if I can help it, anyway.

Their cab slowed to a halt in front of the impressive entrance to the Grand Empress, indeed renowned as the best public hotel on the station. Han withdrew his credit chip from the cab meter, popped open the canopy, and climbed out onto the metal landing that led to the boardwalk. "I've got to admit, I've always wondered what this joint looked like on the inside," he said as he assisted Leia out of the low-slung cab, then reached back in to grab their travel cases.

"I've never been here, either." Leia met his eyes as he straightened up, a case in each hand, and grinned at her. She said, by way of explanation, "We were always guests of landed residents or companies."

"Then we're both in for a learning experience," he offered with enthusiasm before leading her across the crowded walkway and under the elegant sign above the hotel's main entrance.

They passed the busy reception desk and headed for a bank of lifts at the opposite end of the spacious lobby. Rather than enter the closest one, already occupied by another couple, Han chose an empty lift two doors away. He set one of their cases down, reached into a pocket and pulled out his hotel key, then waited until Leia followed him in before slipping the key into the access slot. There was the sound of a soft chime as the doors slid closed. Han removed the key and replaced it in his pocket.

Leia mumbled something that Han didn't seem to catch. At his prompting, she said, "There really wasn't a need for this extravagance. They could've saved a few credits by putting us in a less expensive hotel and donated the difference to the rebellion."

"I doubt this little jaunt put the slightest dent in their bank account. If fact, it wouldn't surprise me if these rooms are permanently reserved for their guests. There's no use grousing about it."

"I'm not grousingabout it. It's just that--" Leia stopped mid-sentence as another soft chime interrupted and the doors slid open. "Lords," she breathed.

Han looked over her shoulder into what was nothing less than a palatial sitting room, filled to the vaulted ceiling with rich colors, brocades, and plush furnishings. When she remained frozen in place, he reached up to press an index finger into the back of her shoulder. He pushed until she was forced to step forward to keep her balance.

Very few things surprised Leia anymore, but this did. She'd found few opportunities to experience such wonders since becoming a fugitive, but now she felt transported back in time as they moved inside. She hadn't seen anything so richly appointed, so hedonistic in decor or design, since her days as the daughter of the Viceroy on Alderaan.

Han dropped their travel cases onto the nearest couch, one of the many that were arranged into conversational circles throughout the central room, then began a quick inspection of the entire suite. She watched him as his smile grew before he disappeared into an adjoining room. An instant later she heard a laugh and curiosity got the best of her. She followed his path into the side room.

"A whirlpool," Han exulted as she stopped beside him. "I knewthis job would have perks."

"Yes, well--" Leia stared down with longing at the huge sunken tub, filled and ready for use. She fumbled for a better reply, disturbed by how quickly her mind brimmed with all sorts of scenarios that would feed the Alliance rumor mills for years to come. "A pity I didn't think to pack the appropriate swimwear."

"Swimwear?" He shrugged, looking at her with a combination of lechery and optimism. "Hey, we're all friends here."

She felt her cheeks darken and turned away before he could notice. She was tempted to take him up on the offer, if only to immerse herself in such luxury after years of loathsome sonics and recycled water showers. And then there was that little part of her that gleefully chanted her own words back at her like a taunt: He's just a friend.

Leaving Han, she moved back into the main room and headed toward one of the two other doors to get a look at her sleeping arrangements. She was greeted with the sight of a magnificent bed, surrounded by a scattering of lounging furniture, a desk, and mirrors. She found every modern amenity imaginable, including private 'fresher and shower. What demanded her attention, however, was the wide transparasteel wall at the far end. From this vantage point she had a commanding view of the uneven surface and horizon of Ord Mantell far below, lit up against the black velvet backdrop of deep space.

"Nice view, huh?"

She turned to find Han standing in the entrance to her chosen room, carrying both of their travel cases. He stepped in without invitation and dropped one of them on her bed, then waved at the window-wall. "We're in the tallest structure on Ord Mantell."

"I believe it. This suite must cost an absolute fortune."

He reeled back on his heels as if he'd been struck. "There you go again. And they say I'mobsessed with money." Not giving her the chance to get the last word, he ended the conversation by turning and leaving the room.

She remained in front of her window for a few moments, her thoughts in turmoil as she basked in the wondrous tableau. She finally turned and stepped over to her bed. She pulled the case closer and sat down on the edge of the bed, then popped open the seals and lifted the lid. Instead of what she'd expected to unpack, she found an assorted collection of unfamiliar clothing, various articles of personal hygiene of a decidedly masculine nature, and a dark bottle of authentic Alderaani wine.

Stunned by the sight of something she'd never thought she'd see again, Leia took a few seconds to realize that she had just opened the wrong travel case. It took a few more moments before it occurred to her that Han was probably about to open hers.

With a sigh of long-suffering, she snapped the lid back down and took it with her as she headed for the other room. Without preamble, she walked through the open door into Han's sleeping quarters.

"Han, you switched our--" She came to a halt when she spotted her case, already surrounded by several of her personal items, lying open on the bed. Unperturbed by her arrival, he held up an incredibly sheer and nearly nonexistent nightie, narrow shoulder straps of lace pinched between his thumbs and index fingers. They both inspected the lingerie. The garment was notstandard Alliance-issue. Eyes wide, she stared at the unknown piece of clothing, aware on some level that her mouth had dropped open.

"I thought you said this was a business trip, sweetheart," Han rumbled in his best bedroom voice.

"I'm going to kill her," was all that she could utter as everything snapped into place: Kristin's casual and distracting conversation back at base, and her insistence on helping Leia to pack; her leading questions and suggestive comments, and her ultimate misunderstanding of Leia's past. This was Kristin's twisted idea of a subtle nudge. Leia felt a hot blush spread throughout her body. "I'm going to kill her."

He eyed her with the biggest grin she'd ever seen on his mobile face. Then he waggled an eyebrow and held the nightie little higher. "It's even my favorite color."

Regaining her wits, her eyes narrowed. "It's not mine. I've never seen that before in my life."

"Really?" He glanced down and checked the label sewn into the inside seam. "Funny, it's your size and everything."

Embarrassed that he even knewher size, she doubted her blush could grow any hotter. "I'm telling you, it isn't mine!" She dumped his travel case onto the bed, then scooped up her items he'd laid out on the bed and stuffed them back into the case. She straightened up, her arms full.

Han's grin didn't diminish as he met her challenging gaze. "That's a shame. I'd've liked to see you in it."

The unsolicited knowledge that he wantedto see her in such a provocative garment set off an unanticipated surge of excitement. For an instant she could imagine standing before this handsome man in nothing more than a wisp of lace and silk, awaiting his maddening smile of approval, anticipating his caress...

She blinked away the fantasy and remembered to breathe. "It's hardly appropriate for my mission," was all her taxed brain could conjure up. She began to turn away. "Wait, you forgot this." He held out the nightie.

"Give me that," she growled, grabbing the sexy lingerie. She could feel his intense stare as she spun on her heel and marched out.

Leia sealed the bedroom door behind her, threw her case onto the nearby chaise lounge, and launched herself onto the bed. She buried her face in the closest pillow and let out a primal shriek of frustration. I can't believe this is happening!

She couldn't decide whether to cry, break a piece of furniture, or march back into his room and ask him to elaborate on his remark. In any case, she was furious with Han, Kristin, and herself. She was tired of the self-imposed charade, and tired of their fighting. She'd always been drawn to Han--attracted to him--from the first time they'd met. There were hours when she couldn't stop looking at him, days when she couldn't block him out of her thoughts or prevent her excitement at the mere mention of his name. She'd admitted as much to herself long ago, even though it was just this sort of obsession that posed a danger not only to her wholehearted dedication to the rebellion, but to her need to remain emotionally detached. He presented a conflict of interest she felt neither willing nor able to deal with right now. In spite of her desires, she had to resist allowing their relationship to grow into anything more than friendship...but she was sick to death of the game.

She growled into her pillow once more, than rolled over onto her back, her arms flopping out to her sides on the bed. She stared up at the distant ceiling, trying to blank her mind. Be practical, Organa.Hiding and sulking in her room wasn't appropriate behavior and it wouldn't solve anything... She continued to stare at the ceiling, unable to stir up enough resolve to do anything else, let alone face Solo again. With any luck, maybe he'd forget about the incident...

Sighing, she drew her arms closer to her sides, but stopped when her hand contacted telltale silk. After a moment's hesitation, she picked up the incriminating lingerie and held it above her to study it more closely. She rubbed the soft fabric between her fingers and could imagine how sensuous the garment would feel when worn; how the heat of a strong hand would radiate through it...she clamped down on that thought and tossed the garment to the side. You're a masochist, aren't you? Don't do this to yourself.

She closed her eyes, feeling stupid. She was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush. She was an adult, capable of making adult decisions. It was perfectly natural to be attracted to Han Solo. He was a handsome, talented, and funny man. He was reliable and kept his word when he chose to give it. Sure, he had his dark side, but who didn't? They were embroiled in a war full of grey tones. He was still, all things considered, a good man. "A smart man," as Kristin had said.

Leia shifted onto her side and glanced out the window-wall. A shuttle passed by, its running lights flashing as it slowed and disappeared beneath her view. Another ship appeared moments later, heading in the opposite direction, evidence of the steady traffic arriving and leaving the resort.

She groaned in defeat. From the moment Han had strode into her life with his complacent smirk and compelling eyes, she'd gotten nothing but conflicting signals from him. He stubbornly refused to accept her cool shoulder, he ignored her insistence on settling for mere friendship, and he foiled her every attempt to remain indifferent. And yet he said nothing to give her any hope that they could maybe find a middle ground. So why was he still here? What did he want from her?

Leia stayed on the bed, watching the steady shuttle traffic, her thoughts locked in a tiring circle of questions, unable to reach any conclusion.

The princess awoke with a start and instinctively looked out the window-wall, but the darkness of deep space gave no indication of time. She dragged her arm up and looked at the slim chrono wrapped around her wrist. Nearly two hours had passed since their arrival in the hotel. Whispering a curse, she sat up and tried to shake away the tendrils of sleep.

A nap was a luxury she almost never had the opportunity to enjoy--but she had to confess feeling better for it. Maybe she did need this time away from the war, however brief. Despite her mission and Han's distracting presence, she could feel the comforts of Ord Mantell beginning to ease some of those old tensions that never seemed to go away. The familiarity of the space station, and its ability to conjure up memories of a seemingly simpler time in her life, eased her soul a little.

Having come to terms with her uncharacteristic slip, Leia stood and moved over to a mirror to check herself. Back to the business at hand,she resolved, then headed for the door.

Han was sprawled out on a couch that faced a low bank of holomonitors and other entertainment equipment. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of her door sliding open and flashed a smile. "You okay?" he asked as she neared the back of his couch. There was a hint of real care in his voice and Leia noted it. "I was beginning to think you maybe slipped in the 'fresher or something."

"I'm fine. Just a little more tired than I thought."

His head tilted back slightly in acknowledgment, although the concern remained in his expression.

She recognized the program he'd been watching as the regional news broadcast, and she felt a mixture of amusement and disgust. News of the "outside world" was like a breath of fresh air after being underground for so long, but fresh air was hardly the term for the latest Imperial propaganda.

Attempting to redirect his attention, she gestured toward the vidscreen. "Anything new?"

He shrugged. "Some big new Imperial military contract is supposedly in the works, but they're keeping it hush-hush. Someone bombed an Imp arsenal on Acetlan and the neighborhood was wiped out in reprisal by a division of stormtroopers." He saw her anguished expression and stopped. He swung his legs down until he sat upright, then patted the sofa cushion at his side. "Just catching up a little on what the rest of the galaxy is doing. We haven't missed much."

She considered his invitation, then moved around the end of the couch and chose a chair nearby.

He didn't hide his disappointment, but reached over to the remote controls of the vidscreen and turned down the volume. "Hope you're hungry. I ordered some food from room service."

"Food," she repeated in a tone that sounded far more reverent than she'd intended. "I amrather hungry."

"That's what I figured." He matched her grin as he shifted again and draped a long arm across the back of the couch. "And I was doing a little thinking about what to do after your meeting this afternoon."

Her smile faded into a look of pure wariness. "I'm really not concerned with what happens afterward. How many times do I--?"

Han held up a placating hand. "Come on, Princess. How long do you think this meeting is going to take? One hour, maybe two? We'll have nearly three daysto kill and I'm not intending to spend it all in here--not unless you dohave something else in mind." His randy grin was so quick that she nearly missed it, but his hint was clear.

She remained silent, not liking the direction of his conversation. She had to keep her mind focused on her mission and his scheming wasn't helping matters.

"Once you're finished with your business, there's no reason why we can't enjoy ourselves a little. We've got the funds, the time, and the freedom."

She didn't have a good response. What could she say, 'No, I don't want any excuse to enjoy my time with you'? She shook her head before dropping her gaze. "I'll worry about that later. Right now I've got more important plans to consider."

Han seemed mollified. "Fine, just leave it to me."

Leia glanced up and met his eyes for the briefest moment, feeling an odd blend of excitement and trepidation. Before she could say anything, a soft chime sounded from the lift entrance to their suite.

They both jumped a little and his hand dropped to a holsterless thigh before he let out his breath in a huff and stood. "That's probably the food."

She watched the smuggler as he moved past her and caught herself appreciating his narrow hips and rear end. Chastising herself, she swung back to stare at the vidscreen, still flashing images of other worlds and beings. Get a grip right now, Organa, or this whole thing is going to collapse at your feet.She tried to focus on the news, but after a few inane moments of tragedies callously intermingled with unimportant trivia and Imperial banner waving, she'd heard enough. She surged to her feet, stepped over to the remote, and switched off the vidscreen. She heard Han talk briefly at the door and turned in time to see the door close. He was heading back in her direction, hefting a large silver platter with a domed cover. He sported a wide grin that bode surprise, no matter how prepared she felt.

"When's the last time you has some authentic Crathulan cuisine?"

"Crathulan?" she murmured in wonder, once again amazed by how easily he managed to surprise her. "I can't remember..."

He hummed a fanfare as he set the platter down in the center of the knee-high table between them. He lifted the cover with a flourish that belonged in a holovid. "Your lunch, milady."

After nearly two years of field rations, synthesized food, and mess hall cooking, the sight--but more important the aroma--was overpowering. She dragged her eyes up from the mouth-watering meal and found Solo enjoying her crazed look. She didn't care. "Don't just stand there," she decreed, pointing a royal finger at the platter. "Serve it up!"

Now laughing out loud, Han bowed and followed orders. "Right away, Your Majestic-ness!"

Han wondered which he was looking forward to enjoying more--the tantalizing food or Leia's sudden shift in mood. It was a close race.

He picked up one of the clean dishes on the edge of the platter, then glanced at her. Prompted by his unspoken question, she grinned. "Give me a little of everything."

Pleased with her enthusiasm, he served out portions of each of the different foods on the tray, then handed the plate to her. He was about to dish out his own, but paused in mute astonishment as she discarded with propriety, set her plate on the edge of the table, and gracefully folded up her legs to sit on the floor. In that one simple gesture of relaxed comfort she seemed to lower her banners--if only symbolically--of princess, senator, and soldier. She also appeared to shed all those extra years of responsibility and strife that had aged her. It was a rare moment when he was reminded of her real age, and he wondered if this was what Leia Organa would be like without the war and ever-present fear and sorrow weighing her down.

Maybe you're right, Princess,he mused to himself, realizing that if helping to end the war could bring this sort of normalcy into her life--could make her this unself-consciously happy for longer than a few minutes--it was a cause he'd be willing to support. Maybe there are some things worth fighting for.

Han continued to watch in wonder at her display of spontaneity as she picked up a smaller piece of meat, popped it into her mouth, then sucked her fingers. He didn't realize he'd been waiting in anticipation until he felt the familiar rush of arousal upon seeing her reaction; eyes closed and head tilted back, a serene smile spread across her beautiful face as she emitted a groan of delight.

Mouth suddenly dry, he turned away before she could notice just how much her little demonstration had affected him. "You want something to drink?"

Leia opened her eyes and glanced up, apparently reminded that she had an attentive audience. Self-conscious once again, she offered a demure smile. "That would be nice."

Nodding, he headed for the little kitchenette in one of the side alcoves. Now is not the time, Solo, so you'd better just stick to the flight plan and damp your engines!He paused, hands on the countertop. He drew a succession of calming breaths and thought about hyperjump logarithms. Then he grabbed two glasses from the cabinet, and opened the cooling unit to pull out a bottle of imported water. Although it wasn't the first time she'd unwittingly elicited such a strong response in him, that had without a doubt been the most erotic expression he'd ever seen on her face. He couldn't get the image out of his mind. He'd wanted nothing more than to shove their meal to the floor and ravish her right there on the table, on the couch, on the floor. But the rational part of him knew she wasn't ready for that yet and his pressing the issue would only alienate her beyond hope of repair.

Only when he began to feel he'd regained some control over his warring instincts did he take a last deep breath and return to the main room with their drinks.

"This is excellent," Leia proclaimed as she reached up to take a proffered glass. "Maybe I willlet you plan our meals from now on."

"Told you not to worry." He set his glass on the table, then folded up his taller frame and sat on the floor across from her. "I haven't had this in a long time, either. Felt an urge for something a little different, I guess."

"'Trust your feelings,'" she intoned with a seriousness that would've been believable except for the quirky grin.

Solo recognized one of Luke Skywalker's favorite mantras, and her impersonation of the kid's attempts to sound wise beyond his years made him laugh; she'd come pretty close, actually. "Ancient Jedi Wisdom strikes again," he chuckled as he leaned over to begin doling servings of the various foods onto his own plate.

"Thisis incredible," she said, pointing a pinky toward the short stack of seasoned flatbreads, "especially with the meat sauce."

Han made sure to grab one before settling back against the side of the couch. He propped up one leg and rested a forearm on his bent knee. Taking her lead, he used a piece of the thin bread to arrange a mouthful of food. If someone had told him an hour ago that he'd soon be sitting on the floor with Princess Leia Organa and eating with his fingers, he'd've thought they were crazy. But that's exactly what he was doing now, and he found the idea sexy as hell. He glanced at her. "Having fun yet?" he asked in an upbeat tone.

She opened her mouth to respond, then paused as some old haunt seemed to revisit her and most of the pleasant energy drained away from her features. "This is nice," she said in a diplomatic tone that revealed nothing. She played with her food for a bit, then reached for her glass, finally daring to look over the rim of the tumbler as she sipped.

He'd waited for that opening. "There's nothing wrong with having a little fun, you know."

She swallowed and set her glass back down. "I know. I never said there was."

He debated whether to press the issue, then opted to drop it. He didn't feel like ruining the moment any more than he had already.

Home | Back to Author's List | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4