The Smile

DISCLAIMER: I don't own a thing.

He throws her another of those smiles, his crooked, dirty, charming smiles that imply all the wrong things, and she thinks nobody's looked at her like that in forever.

That smile does something to her, not necessarily a pleasant feeling, but strong, something hot and wild and a tiny bit painful.

Maybe, if she'd had some men between her sheets in the past couple of years, it wouldn't be so bad.

But she hasn't, because she's a leader and giving in to such lowly carnal desires would humanise her too much. It would lose her respect and authority. She can't have her soldiers looking at her as a potential hook-up. They have to take orders from her after all.

It didn't bother her, really. She hasn't even had time to think about sex, let alone miss it.

But then suddenly there's this smuggler with his quips and his swagger and his smiles who looks at her like she's the thing he wants most in the galaxy, who doesn't care if he's being blunt and who never once pretended to have good or honourable intentions.

And sometimes when he throws her that smile, she thinks he could have anything from her.

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