Story Challenge #20: 4th March 2004
Write a 10-minute story in which Luke or Han (or both) has a cold.

Sniffles
A SW 10-minute ficlet by Morgan D.
Plot suggested by Ptyx

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"You're gonda leave be here? All by byself?"

In the back of his mind, Luke realised he sounded rather childish. However, it was really hard to focus on the back of his mind when his nose was so stuffed that it threatened to collapse. Just forcing intelligible words through his aching throat and trembling lips required all the concentration he could muster.

And judging by Solo's smirk, even that effort wasn't coming out all that successful. "What do you want me to do, kid? Feed you hnilag soup and sing lullabies until you get better?"

Luke shuddered, sinking in his bunk. "Can'd you juss keeb be combany for a while? I don' feel so good..."

"Poor baby," Han sneered. "Sorry, but I've got more important things to do than baby-sit a sick, whinging cub."

"You don' have to baby-sit be," Luke groaned, wrapping the blankets tighter around his shivering body. "Juss don' wanda be here all alone..."

"You should have thought of that before getting sick."

"I did dot want to be sick!" Luke snapped. That was, curiously enough, the kind of reproach he used to get from his uncle whenever he had felt indisposed. Unlike Aunt Beru, who would tend to him in a loving, non-fussy way, Owen Lars had always made clear that falling ill was bad for business; there was work to be done, and wasting time in bed was a luxury poor farmers could not enjoy.

"If you don't want to be sick, don't be," Han shrugged. "I've never been sick in my entire life."

"You expect be to belieb that?"

"Believe what you want."

"Ev'rybody gets sick from tide to tide."

Han chuckled. "And what does a Tatooine boy know about tides?"

"I didn' say 'tide'. I said 'tide'!"

Why Luke wanted Han to stay, he couldn't explain himself. Especially when the smuggler started laughing at him like that, as if seeing someone in misery was the funniest thing in the galaxy.

Yet he did want Han to stay. Badly.

"What bakes you think you'll dever get sick?"

"Because I'm not a scrawny little thing like you."

"I'b dot scrawdy."

"I have strong genes, alright? You obviously don't."

"By father was a Jedi Dight!"

Han rolled his eyes. "Wonderful... Which means that carrying a silly sword around, delivering pseudo-mystical lines and waving your hands in hopes it'll make rocks fly are traits actually written in your DNA. Is that a comforting thought or what?"

"I'b gonda show you... sombday." Luke intended to elaborate on how he would become this mighty warrior and make the Corellian regret all his mocking remarks about the Force and the Jedi, but was mercilessly interrupted by a coughing fit.

Han rubbed the back of his friend's neck, soothingly. "Sure, kid."

"I... ahem... I'b serious."

"That's the scary part," said Han under his breath. "Listen, I'll make a deal with you. I'll stay with you for a little while if you cut the mumbo-jumbo talk..."

"It's dot..."

"And don't try to say 'mumbo-jumbo' either. You'll either swallow your tongue or explode your nose, and I don't wanna be here to see any of it."

Luke tried to let out a long sigh, but ended up sneezing. "You could try bein' a dittle dicer..."

"Hey, I'm being awfully nice here," Han protested.

"Oh yeah... Even Unggle Owen was bore symbathetic than you..."

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Han did stay, however, and not only for a little while. When Luke woke up half a day later, the Corellian was still there beside him, lying precariously on the edge of the narrow bunk, swathed in the blankets he had at some point yanked from the younger man.

"Han?"

A groan.

"Are you asleep?"

"...yes."

Luke laughed. Han snatched the only pillow on the bed to cover his head.

It felt good to laugh. It felt good to breathe too. Sweat glued clothes and sheets uncomfortably to Luke's skin and his muscles ached as if he had run across the entire Dune Sea, but overall... "You know, I'm feeling a lot better."

He filled his lungs with air, and smiled when the cough didn't come.

So much better.

He leaned over Solo, squeezing his shoulder gently. "Hey, Han... thanks."

"Hn..."

"I won't forget it," Luke assured him. "You really were awfully nice, staying with me. I hope I didn't annoy you too much."

Han grunted something unintelligible. The tone was far from cheerful.

"If you want to leave now, that's okay," Luke suggested half-heartedly. "I know your bunk in the Falcon is a lot more comfortable than mine. But you could also stay... Have the bunk all for yourself while I take a shower... Would you like me to..."

Luke had to stop when the pillow was hurled hard against his face.

"Hey! What's wrong with you, Han?"

"Dothing."

Luke blinked.

And gasped.

And grinned.

"Han? Did you just say 'dothing'?"

"Shud ub."

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