Author: GreatOne PM
Viggie written for a challengeRated: Fiction K - English - Han S. & Leia O. - Words: 821 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 3 - Published: 06-10-09 - Status: Complete - id: 5127057
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Response to a challenge where the characters only used one syllable words.
Han sniffed the room as he entered the front door, wondering what strange odor was permeating the large apartment. "I'm home," he yelled as he took off his jacket, tossing it carelessly over the back of a chair. He sniffed again, trying to identify the smell, but the exact origin eluded him.
A panicked looking Princess hurried out of the kitchen, her hair half unbraided and tumbling down her back. The apron she wore was covered in a wide variety of unidentifiable stains. "You're home," she stuttered in surprise. She hadn't been expecting him for several more hours, since yesterday he'd complained how much work he had to do on the Falcon.
"Yeah, I think I just said that," Han agreed, looking at her suspiciously. "What's that odd smell?"
Leia shot a guilty glance over her shoulder. "Smell? What smell?"
Han frowned, glancing over at the kitchen door where the smell was wafting from, and noted Leia's trepidation. "Don't tell me," Han said worriedly. "You're not - "
"What if I am?" she interrupted defensively. "Is that so bad?"
Furious, Leia stalked up to her husband, waving a charred spatula in his face. "All the men I know eat what their wives cook, or else! Luke eats what his bride cooks... why can't you?"
"It's not my fault you can't cook to save your life," Han argued, backing away from the dangerous utensil. "And Luke's so whipped, he'll chow down on all the grub she plops on his plate. He's not the best case to point out."
"Oh... you'll eat what I put in front of you, if you care to save your life."
"Are you sure that won't end my life?" Han looked around the room. "By the way, where's that dumb droid?"
"Why?" Leia questioned suspiciously, wondering why Han would care about Threepio.
Grinning, Han put his hands gently on Leia's shoulders. "He can cook a meal more fit to eat than you can."
"How dare you!" Leia said in annoyance, shrugging his hands off. She quickly turned away, holding her hands up to her face.
"Aww.. come on," Han cajoled, realizing he'd probably gone too far with his teasing. What was a little indigestion, anyway? The meal probably wouldn't be fatal, even if it kept him awake all night. "Don't be mad. I'll eat it."
The Princess looked up at Han and smiled. "Good. I know you'll like it once you taste it."
"I'm sure I will," Han lied agreeably, wiping a streak of flour off Leia's cheek with his thumb. He leaned over and kissed her slowly, wrapping his arms around her and lingering in the soft sweetness of his wife. A loud alarm sounded, making them jump apart in surprise.
"What's that noise?" Leia yelled over the screeching din.
Han looked over at the kitchen. Black smoke poured from the doorway. "Fire!" He rushed around the apartment, looking in closets and checking behind curtains.
What in the galaxy is Han looking for? Leia wondered. Since he hadn't eaten dinner yet, his bizarre behavior couldn't be the result of food poisoning.
"I need to find that spray-the-fire thing!" Han shouted loudly, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. "You know what I mean... the can that spits out foam!"
Ahhh... the extinguisher! "It's next to the stove, you nerf!"
Squinting through the smoke, Han rushed into the smoke-filled kitchen, grabbing the extinguisher and pulling the release as orange fire licked upwards from the once shiny oven. A stream of white foam quickly covered the appliance. Then Han pulled the oven open and sprayed the flaming remains of what had been masquerading as an edible meal only moments before.
"Is it safe in here yet?" Leia yelled over the painfully loud alarm, fanning the billowing clouds with her apron.
"Let some fresh air in the room," Han instructed as he pointed at the window. He disconnected the smoke alarm as Leia opened the windows and aired the apartment out.
Leia walked over and looked into the oven at her blackened meal, shaking her head in dismay. "It was nerf steak. You love nerf steak."
"I like my steak rare," Han replied, grinning at her. "This is way too well done for my taste."
"I guess you're right.. can't cook to save my life," Leia said with a sigh.
"No dear, you can't, but it's not much of a flaw. I still love you." He gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head, then suggested, "Let's go out to eat."
"Fine," she agreed, conceding defeat. "Next time ... you cook the steaks."