Title: HSU - Indulgence
Author: Emmy
Rating: LTHSYHID (Let the Ho Show You How It's Done)
Archive: Yes
Notes: Comes on the heels of Brenda's 'An Accordion, You say?' And YES, I will finish 'Hero' and rescue Darry, but that requires some actual plot work. This doesn't. ?

Emmy stood in the doorway of the clinic for a few moments after Brenda left to teach Jael's art class. The General remained seated, fingers mussing his hair as he tried to rub his splitting headache away.

"Whatever you have to say, please just say it and get it over with," the General mumbled, nerves frayed from not being in full possession of his Force abilities, thereby lowering his tolerance for the normal insanity at HSU.

Emmy walked forward slightly, her shoes softly clicking on the tile floor. The General's muscles tensed up. Whenever Emmy approached silently, he knew he was in for it.

Emmy smiled. She, like all Ho's, relished in opportunities like this to throw the General completely off-balance. She reached forward and took hold of the General's wrist, pulling his hand out of his hair. "Come on," she said, tugging on his arm.

The General sighed. "I'd really just rather have a few moments to rest than deal with the latest crisis."

"Just do what I tell you," Emmy said. "Unless you just want to sit here playing tug of war with your arm."

The General looked up at Emmy with an expression of defeat, rising slowly to his feet, his head throbbing more intensely the higher he rose. "Alright, what is it now?"

"Just follow me," Emmy said. "And don't be such a grump."

The General rubbed his eyes, sighing but saying nothing as Emmy led him down the hallway and up the stairs, his mind not even curious about their destination as the jarring pain stabbed its way through his brain.

Once they reached the top of the stairs, he closed his eyes, the passing floor below him and the passing walls at the sides just a little too much for him to view at the moment. He followed where she led him, trusting that she at least wouldn't run him into any walls.

They turned and walked through a door. He opened his eyes to find that they were in her room.

Emmy led him to her favorite cushy chair. "Sit down," she said without any indication of her intent.

The General complied, a little worried about what this was going to entail. Emmy had only hauled him away to solitude for two reasons. And the other one usually involved being swiftly pushed to the bed and stripped down with a frenzy. When she dragged him away and sat him down in a corner, it was another thing entirely.

He squinted and covered his eyes as the light from the window assaulted him when he sat down. This was going to be bad. Not only was she going to burst into a tirade at any moment, but she was going to use his weakened condition to torture him a little by making him stare into the sun. No one could get away with being chastised by Emmy without looking at her while they were being berated.

Suddenly the bright light disappeared as Emmy quickly pulled the drapes shut. "Here, take these," she said.

He opened his eyes and examined the pills in her hand. "What are they?"

"Excedrin. Just take them," she said, shoving a bottle of water in his face.

The General complied again, needing something to keep his head from splitting open.

"And drink all that water," Emmy called out from someplace in the room.

"Yes, alright," the General mumbled, wondering why she couldn't give him a break just this once. He closed his eyes again, setting the water bottle down on the floor. He sat there for several minutes, trying to focus a little healing energy on himself. He didn't even notice Emmy moving about the room and jumped in his chair when he felt her cool hands on the back of his neck.

"Calm down," she said, "I'm not going to strangle you."

"Well, that's new."

Emmy smiled slightly. "Hush."

The General sighed and relaxed as her fingers slid up through his hair, her fingers massaging his scalp and temples as her thumbs rubbed the back of his head. He leaned his head into her hands, letting her fingers support him as they soothed his aching head.

Still, part of him waited for the other shoe to drop.

Several minutes later her hands retreated. "Alright," she said.

The General tensed up again.

"Lay down on the bed," she said, walking away from him, "and take your shirt off."

He scratched his head and then stood up carefully.

"And don't get your boots on my comforter."

The General glanced in the direction of her voice as he unbuttoned his shirt, still unsure exactly where this was leading.

"And while you're at it, take your pants off, too."

Well, he couldn't argue with that. Laying his shirt over the back of the chair, he bent down to remove his boots when Emmy walked back into the room, gulping at the sight of a bent-down General. She gulped again as his hands unbuckled his belt. Even feeling as poorly as he did, there was something about the way he worked his belt that made her want to grab a video camera.

Emmy yanked the comforter and blanket off the bed and puffed up the pillows as he continued undressing. "Now lay down."

The General sat on the bed, scooting back toward the pillows.

"On your front, lover," she said. And then she almost lost her balance at the fluid movement of his nude form as he turned over, the muscles in his arm flexing as he balanced himself on it, twisting his body, his bent knee circling around toward her until it hit the mattress, the entire movement an artful display of muscular control. He grabbed the pillows and then settled down on his stomach with a sigh, turning his head to look at her and resting it in the soft pillow.

Emmy struck a match and lit a votive candle underneath a ceramic oil diffuser.

"What's that?"

"Aromatherapy," she said. "Supposed to help your headache. If I got the combination right, that's is. So either you'll lose the headache or experience regulated menstrual flow and cramp reduction."

The General's eyebrow raised, his lips curving up in a smile.

"Wait," Emmy said, looking down at her dry clean only attire. She walked away from the bed, and the General closed his eyes, still not quite certain what was happening but not really worrying too much about it at that point.

A few moments later, the mattress gave in around him, stirring him from his hazy state. He pressed up, looking over his shoulder to see Emmy dressed as few people were allowed to see, in her 'Girl Power' t-shirt and a pair of shorts, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, her knees straddling his back as she sat down on his rear.

"Lay down," she said, flipping her hand at him.

The General sank back into the pillows and then gasped as cool liquid hit his back.

"Sorry," she said, "let me do it this way." Emmy poured the massage oil into her palm and then rubbed her hands together.

The General sighed happily as her hands made contact with his back, rubbing the oil across his skin and then starting at the small of his back, her fingers sliding a short distance up along his spine, pressing firmly against the corded muscles and massaging them into relaxation.

He wondered for a moment if he had been suddenly kidnapped without his knowledge and deposited at an Alderaanian rejuvenation spa as her hands slid up underneath his shoulder blades, gently digging into the tendons as they crackled with each press of her fingers.

"Geez, you're tense," Emmy said.

"This surprises you?" he said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"Oh, you love it, and you know it," she said, softly as she continued to work at loosening his shoulders.

Alright, so this wasn't a spa….but at the moment he wouldn't trade this for anything.

"Ah, there's the zinger," she said, as her fingers landed on knotted tendon in his neck, causing him to flinch slightly when she kneaded into it. He bent his head forward, exposing the back of his neck to her as her thumbs circled at the base of his skull.

Then, much to his dismay, her hands suddenly left him and she shifted on the bed. She eyed him for a moment and then moved again, grabbing the massage oil and going to work at the base of his spine.

Despite the stiff aching of her amateur hands, she took great delight in oiling up that nice firm ass of his, sliding her hands up and over it a few times before spreading the oil down to his thighs, working the stress out of the solid muscles.

He flinched when her fingers slid over the backs of his knees, stopping to tickle him just for the heck of it. And then she wrapped her fingers around his firm calves, sliding her hands up and down the length of them.

As her thumbs pressed into and slid along the arches of his feet, the General smiled. Emmy had a thing about feet. She wasn't a big fan of them. His feet, her feet, anybody's feet. She was all for kicking her shoes off the minute she walked in the door in the interest of comfort, but, despite her Diva-quality pedicure, she had little regard for the appreciation of feet.

So the import of her gesture of massaging his feet did not go unnoticed or unappreciated by the General.

"Don't get too used to this," Emmy said on cue as she rubbed her fingers along his toes.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he chuckled softly.

She lowered one foot and then the other. Then she crawled up the mattress on her knees, keeping her oiled up hands away from the bedsheet and her clothes. She massaged his shoulders and neck again for a few more minutes and then reached for the towel she'd brought out, wiping off her hands and then cleaning all the oil off of him that she could. Then she flopped down on her side next to him and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Weak hands," she said. "Pampering time is over."

The General, shifted slightly, still remaining on his stomach as he took hold of her hand and kissed her fingers. "Thank you."

"Feeling better?"

"Mostly," he said.

"Good," Emmy said. "Don't say I never do anything nice for you."

"Of course not," he said, smiling.

Emmy scooted over to him, resting her head between his shoulders, her arm wrapping around his back, her leg curling over his legs. Then she squeezed her giant teddy bear and said, "Nap time."

The General sighed contentedly as she embraced him, sinking into this very pleasant, very strife-free moment, and drifted off to sleep.