a cold fic.
Mar. 7th, 2004 02:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valarltdHome remedies, by Angel
10 minute cold fic.
“Ah-choo!”
“Kid! Stop sneezing on the instruments. I know Chewie’s shedding–“ Han looked at his lover and made a quick assessment. “How’s your throat?”
“Awful,” Luke rasped.
“Mmm, hmm. All right. Off to bed with you, junior, and don’t forget the footie sleeper.”
Luke winced as he laughed. “Yes, Mom.”
There was no actual sleeper with feet in the bottom. After Luke had fluffed the pillows one too many times during Han’s bout with a nasty virus, Han had accused him of babying and asked “What’s next, a footie sleeper like my mom made me wear?” It had become a joke, a private lover’s code for “go to bed and let me take care of you.” They used it only when sick.
Luke bundled himself into thick warm sleep clothes, pausing to gasp for breath when his nose stuffed up. He blew it, only to cough more gunk out of his chest. That made his head hurt. He laid down on the bunk, but that filled his sinuses and he couldn’t breathe.
Han found him propped up against the bulkhead, bundled in blanket. He set the tray he’d brought in on the floor by the bed and sat down. Luke wasn’t feverish, but he looked pretty miserable.
Han picked the tray up. “Eat,” he insisted handing a large mug to Luke. “Sterkl soup. Guaranteed to fix you up.”
While Luke ate, Han fiddled with the holoviewer. He set the movie selection to random and crawled back in to cuddle his sickly Jedi.
“Mm, spiceroot ale,” Luke said. Han handed him the soft drink, and he let the pleasant bubbly sweetness soothe his throat.
Han pressed play.
“You’re going to get it too, you know,” Luke protested.
“Always do. Probably already have it.” The opening part of the holo started.
“Oh, Han, not ‘Love is waiting.’ Tell me that isn’t!”
“Sorry kid. Looks like you’ll be laid up for a week. The random selector button never lies.”
Luke grumbled a few stuffy obscenities. “Why couldn’t it have been that one I like, the one with the actor they always get to play you? I always get better quick with that one. Four thousand holos in the library and the random button picks the one that means I’m sick for a week.”
“Aaah, could be worse.”
“How?” Luke sneezed again.
“Coulda been ‘Varn, World of Water.’ Last time, that one sent you to the bacta tank for a day and bedrest for a month.”
“After this can we watch the ones I like?” Despite himself, Luke was being drawn into the colorful dance number around the ticket booths and turnstiles.
“Anything you want. More soup?”
10 minute cold fic.
“Ah-choo!”
“Kid! Stop sneezing on the instruments. I know Chewie’s shedding–“ Han looked at his lover and made a quick assessment. “How’s your throat?”
“Awful,” Luke rasped.
“Mmm, hmm. All right. Off to bed with you, junior, and don’t forget the footie sleeper.”
Luke winced as he laughed. “Yes, Mom.”
There was no actual sleeper with feet in the bottom. After Luke had fluffed the pillows one too many times during Han’s bout with a nasty virus, Han had accused him of babying and asked “What’s next, a footie sleeper like my mom made me wear?” It had become a joke, a private lover’s code for “go to bed and let me take care of you.” They used it only when sick.
Luke bundled himself into thick warm sleep clothes, pausing to gasp for breath when his nose stuffed up. He blew it, only to cough more gunk out of his chest. That made his head hurt. He laid down on the bunk, but that filled his sinuses and he couldn’t breathe.
Han found him propped up against the bulkhead, bundled in blanket. He set the tray he’d brought in on the floor by the bed and sat down. Luke wasn’t feverish, but he looked pretty miserable.
Han picked the tray up. “Eat,” he insisted handing a large mug to Luke. “Sterkl soup. Guaranteed to fix you up.”
While Luke ate, Han fiddled with the holoviewer. He set the movie selection to random and crawled back in to cuddle his sickly Jedi.
“Mm, spiceroot ale,” Luke said. Han handed him the soft drink, and he let the pleasant bubbly sweetness soothe his throat.
Han pressed play.
“You’re going to get it too, you know,” Luke protested.
“Always do. Probably already have it.” The opening part of the holo started.
“Oh, Han, not ‘Love is waiting.’ Tell me that isn’t!”
“Sorry kid. Looks like you’ll be laid up for a week. The random selector button never lies.”
Luke grumbled a few stuffy obscenities. “Why couldn’t it have been that one I like, the one with the actor they always get to play you? I always get better quick with that one. Four thousand holos in the library and the random button picks the one that means I’m sick for a week.”
“Aaah, could be worse.”
“How?” Luke sneezed again.
“Coulda been ‘Varn, World of Water.’ Last time, that one sent you to the bacta tank for a day and bedrest for a month.”
“After this can we watch the ones I like?” Despite himself, Luke was being drawn into the colorful dance number around the ticket booths and turnstiles.
“Anything you want. More soup?”
