Love Letter

Hello, peoples! The school year is almost over, which means I have nothing to do!

CAST OF THOUSANDS: Which means you'll finally be getting around to finishing all the fics you've started but never finished?

ME: Uh, sure.

Actually, this is just a one-shot ficlet that was inspired by a love letter contest at It's here for enertainment purposes only.

Dear Wedge, the note began, I love you.

I don't know how I know this. It's just that every time I hear your name over PA system, my heart beats just a little bit faster. And when I see you in the mess hall, my hands start shaking and one time I almost dropped my tray. And when we pass each other in the halls and you look at me and smile and say, "Hello," I can't meet your eyes and my throat closes up and my fingernails turn purple because I can't breathe.

It's strange because you don't even know me that well. So it's probably too much to hope for to think that you might feel the same. But I can't smile and nod and hold it inside anymore. Somehow or another, you've got to know. Even if I can't tell you face-to-face or even sign my name. You need to know that somewhere out there is someone who loves you. Me.

I don't know how you're going to feel when you get this letter. If you get this letter. And I don't know how you're going to do. Things are already complicated between us—you're my commanding officer. You're higher ranked than I am. I don't know if you'd be willing to risk your position for a chance at love, but the love is there. On my part.

So you can do whatever with this letter once you've finished reading. You are free to crumple it up and toss it in the recycle bin for the cleaning droids to remove. You can put it in the file that I'm sure you have filled with love letters from adoring fans. You can ignore it. You can act upon it. You can file a restraining order.

But now, at least, the choice is out of my hands. it doesn't matter anymore, only I love you, so it does matter, at least to me.

Wedge Antilles looked up from the letter he held in his hands, glancing around the crowded rec room. He didn't really know what to think.

Irresistibly, his eyes were drawn across the room to where Iella Wessiri sat alone at the bar, twirling a straw dreamily in her drink. Someone next to her said something that snapped her out of her reverie and she laughed appreciatively, tossing her shoulder-length golden-brown hair back and re-crossing her legs. If Wedge could have chosen anyone to have sent this letter, it would be…

Then it occurred to him to check for a name. Wedge quickly scanned the flimsiplast envelope, but there was no signature on it; only the words, "To Wedge Antilles." The bottom of the letter held no name, either.

He gave Iella another quick glance. She wasn't looking at him. Wedge tried to squash his rising feeling of being ridiculously, lightheadedly, supremely happy. There wasn't any point in getting his hopes up, but—there! Wedge caught her eye when her head turned towards him, and she shot him a quick smile and wave and turned away again. Was it embarrassment—?

Wedge feverishly flipped the letter over in his hands and found, to his astonishment, that there was more to the letter.

Wedge, just do what you think is right. What's right for you, I mean. I already know what's right for me. You are. I understand if you already have someone else, and I'll understand if you decide that you don't want me. I'll get over it. I have before. But as of right now, I love you. And maybe it's the type of love that I won't be able to get over. If it is, then I want you to know I'll hold you personally responsible for breaking my heart. (Just kidding. I figured we'd need a little humor right about now, since you're probably writhing in agony from my excessive lovelorn prose.)

If you decide yes, you'll know where to find me. If you decide no, then you know how to avoid me. We have friends in common, but I promise that none of them know about this letter, so you won't have to avoid them too. Well. I guess that's all I have to say. Except, maybe, that I love you. But I think I've already mentioned that, haven't I?

Wedge looked up, hardly daring to breathe. He glanced up at the bar where Iella sat, and his heart gave a queer start. She was sitting there, looking at him, with a funny half-smile on her face and a crumpled napkin clenched tightly in one hand.

He closed his eyes for a moment, then took the plunge and read the signature on the bottom.

With love,

Lieutenant Kettch

CAST OF THOUSANDS: Since you're reading this blurb at the bottom of the story, it stands to reason that you've actually read the story. In that case, you may as well go ahead and click on that happy little button that says REVIEW.