Nebulous - Han Solo [2]

Chapter 11: A Scoundrel?

Tasha held the goggles over her eyes, sparks flying as the welding torch she held in her hand shot out at the toggle on the side of the ship. Stepping back to admire her work, she pulled the goggles off her eyes, switching off the torch. She pulled some of the connecting wires from the latch, flipping a valve into a neutral position before rolling back the sleeves of her jacket, the black material only reaching her elbows, bunching up.

Tasha drug the back of her hand carelessly across her forehead, surprised at the slight sweat that had gathered there. It was cool on the ship, what with the power being turned down to a minimum. She grabbed the piece she had been welding with both hands, attempting to force t together with its coupling. It might not having anything to do with fixing the hyper drive, but this job did need to be done, so she might as well do it now.

Tasha groaned slightly as the pieces failed to join. She wiped her hands on her pants before reaching for it again, trying to get a firmer grip on it, but Tasha's mind wasn't really on her hands, and the work they were doing. letting out a breath, Tasha put her strength into it, and the piece moved slightly.

Gritting her teeth, Tasha pulled the piece back slightly, as though to get a run at it, before pushing it again, letting out her frustrations on the piece of metal. All the pent up anger at herself, at the people who were putting so much pressure onto her to perform for them like some circus animal, when all she wanted was a way to make a difference.

 And then there were those voices, those thoughts, that she had no control over, that made her lose control so easily. And there was nothing that she could do to stop them. It was as though someone was projecting them into her head, as though someone was trying to get her to destroy herself.

Han walked away from Chewie and the hyper drive conduits, tired of Threepio's babbling, walking into where Tasha was quietly working on a piece of piping. She let out a frustrated sound as the piping refused to bend to her command, and Han smiled slightly at it.

 It had been so long since Tasha hadn't just moped around like a bear with a sore head, growling at people but never really being herself, or at least the brash, confident self Han had known before the attack on the Death Star. He didn't know what it was that had changed her, which had affected her so badly over the past few years, but she wasn't the same. And it just seemed to get worse instead of better.

Han reached around Tasha to the piping, getting a hold on it only for Tasha to shove him off with what sounded almost like a growl. Han couldn't decide whether he was annoyed at her, or secretly pleased that she had done something that was, well, for Tasha, normal.

"Hey, princess, I'm only trying to help," he said, still leaning against the doorframe as Tasha tried to move the part on her own, her frustration at it growing.

"Could you please stop calling me that?" Tasha said through gritted teeth, still fiddling with the piping.

"You've never complained about it before," Han said, and Tasha could practically hear the smirk on his face.

"Well I'm complaining about it now, so quit it!" she snapped, her hands slightly slippery against the metal.

"Okay, Tasha," he said, and Tasha let out a frustrated sigh, her movement stalling for a moment.

"Do you have to make everything so difficult?" she said, resuming her work, not that it was going any better.

"I do, I really do," he replied, still smirking. "but you could be a little nicer though," he inspected his nails as though everything around him was exceedingly dull, "come on, sometimes you think I'm alright," Tasha cursed as the metal clipped the edge of her finger, stinging.

"I've had a lot on my mind." She said, turning and facing him and massaging her abused hand with her other, "so, I suppose, occasionally, maybe, when you aren't acting like a complete scoundrel," Han smirked at her, taking her hand in his and running his long fingers across it, soothing the sting.

"scoundrel?" he said, sounding amused, although whether his amusement was at Tasha's startled expression or how she had described him she didn't know, "scoundrel? I kinda like the sound of that," Tasha scoffed half-heartedly.

"I can't think why," Tasha tried to turn back to her work, but Han held her hand in both of his, essentially pulling her back to him. She scowled at him, trying to pull her hand from his grip with no success. "Stop that," she snapped as Han ran his fingers over it again, "stop that, my hands are dirty," she backed away slightly, trying to pull her hand with her.

"My hands are dirty too, what are you afraid of?" his question caught her off guard, and she stopped her struggling.

"Afraid?" she questioned, her eyebrows raised in question. Han nodded, still wearing that smirk.

"You're trembling," Tasha suddenly became aware of their proximity, how close he was stood to her, how her heart was racing like it did during a fire-fight, how she could feel her blood pulse through every vein in her body from her feet to her fingertips.

"I'm not trembling," she tried to make her voice sound strong, but it was as shaky as the rest of her. Han's smirk widened.

"Is it because I'm a scoundrel? There are no scoundrels in your life," Tasha scoffed again.

"You flatter yourself, Solo." He only moved closer to her, "and for the record I happen to like nice men," her voice sounded breathless even to her own ears.

"I'm a nice man," Han said, still leaning closer to her.

"No you're not, you're-" all thoughts of what Tasha was going to say disappeared as Han's lips collided with her own, her eyes closing on instinct as she moved her hand around his neck.

"Sir! Sir!" came a shockingly over-excited voice from the doorway. Threepio's metal arm tapped Han on the back, and he pulled away from Tasha, a murderous look on his face. Tasha sucked in a breath as he pulled away, her brain going into overdrive.

Not Again. The phrase flashed through her brain again and again; as she brought a hand up to lightly touch her lips, trying to get her brain to process things other than the hoard of memories brought up by that kiss, the images now flicking through her mind. She sucked in another breath, slipping around Han and out of the room whilst he squabbled with the protocol droid. What the hell had she just done?