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Fourth Floor common room

Han is back from the mainland and in a very good mood.

He's got a kettle (large enough to bathe a small child in) heating on the stove of the kitchenette as he pours large jars of honey, gallons of water and whole nutmegs in. He slices half a dozen lemons and proceeds to ream them with a wooden tool into the kettle.

Looks like he's making mead for the wedding on Tuesday. Anyone who wants to sample or pester or whatever is welcome.

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Lana wanders into the common room and watches with quiet interest for a few minutes. "So... what are you making, Han?"

He flashes her a grin, stirring at the pot. "Bridal mead. You know, the stuff we drink Tuesday."

He looks at it. "Of course this is going to be mead the same way grape juice is wine."

"So... non-fermented, right? And if it was fermented it would be "real" mead?" she asks. She steals a fingerful of honey and perches on a chair nearby where she can watch what he's doing.

"How was your trip?"

"Exactly. Right now, it's lemonade with a lot of honey."

He gives her a "I got laid about five times" grin. "I had a good trip. Got your wedding dress."

Lana raises her eyebrows and grins, only blushing a little. "A *very* good weekend from your expression. And you got my wedding dress..."

She shakes her head. "That just sounds too weird. I'm so not ready to get married. For real, I mean. The class thing should be fun."

He nods. "I think it will. If Sawyer doesn't screw up."

He's skimming white scum from the top of the pot. He glances at the directions "boil until the white foam rises no more."

"You shoulda seen the look on Bagoas's face when that Skeeter tralk said T'd proposed and then called you "Mrs. Soon-to-be-Solo" through the rest of the broadcast. I had to show him the assignment sheet, the shopping list and everything. He goes into a cold sulk faster than anyone I know."

"Sawyer..." Lana makes a face. "Just keep him out of my way and it should be fine.'

She stops and looks at him. "When *who* said you'd proposed? Professor Skeeter? When was... oh God, that was on the radio?" She looks horrified for a second, then laughs. "I can only imagine what she must have said about that. You're not exactly one of her favorite people."

Han sets the pot on a cold burner and ladles up a couple cups of the hot liquid.

"She ain't one of my favorite people either. 'You'll regret it deah," he mimicks her accent and voice viciously, "when you try set him on fire and he ignores you."

"Did she say that?" Lana asks delightedly. "About me? Huh..."

She thinks about it for a moment. "I'm sure I could think of other ways to get your attention rather than to set you on fire, if I had to."

"I just bet you could, darlin," he leers, waggling his eyebrows.

When the drinks are cool enough to hold, he hands her one. "But you'd better clear it with Shep first."

Lana blushes and ducks her head.

She takes a sip of the drink to regain her composure. "Mmmm... nice."

She looks back up at him with a grin. "I don't know about that. He gave me away to someone else to marry pretty easily from the sounds of it."

Han shrugged. "Hey, anything to save his pal from a fate worse than death: marrying Sawyer. Besides, he has two to marry himself."

He tries the drink. "It'd be better fermented."

He sits down and takes several pine garlands out of the bag. "You want to help me? They're the decorations. We hang fruit, nuts, mirrors and bags of coins from them. Symbolizes fertility and wealth." He ties a small plastic hand-mirror to one spot, moves about a foot away and adds a bag of chocolate coins.

"Actually, he's only marrying Phoebe," Lana says with a smile. "Paige is going to do the ceremony. Phoebe told me about it the other night."

Lana picks up some of the decorations and begins tying them to the garlands. "Surprised myself actually. I had this huge wave of jealousy come over me for a minute. I don't notmally think of myself as a jealous person, but..."

She yawned suddenly. "Sorry. Not the company."

"Didn't figure it was."

Han shakes his head. "What Dr. Grissom was thinking, I'll never know. Shep gets two girls, and I get a guy who can't even take a snowball like a girl."

He winks at her. "You're human, congratulations. Shep's yours and the idea of him marrying someone else got you. He might be a little grouchy about the wedding Tuesday too."

"Dr. Grissom is a very interesting person and I don't pretend to have any idea about how his mind works. But it sounds like it must have been tricky in the class - keeping Bel away from Phoebe and Paige and Sawyer apart and who knows what else."

She makes a face. "Oh good. I'm human." She sighs. "Yeah, I guess he kind of is mine and even though I'm not looking to get married, I don't really like the idea of him marrying someone else."

She perks up a little at the last. "Really? You think he might be a little grumpy about us? Oh, I'm horrible, aren't I?" She grins ruefully. "He's just always so easy going it might be kind of nice to see him show a little... you know."

Han just laughs and finishes the drink. The rest has cooled enough, so he starts pouring it into gallon clay jugs and setting them aside. He's made about three gallons.

"Tuesday's gonna be fun, no question." Han sits back down beside her. "You got your part memorized? If not, you can just read it."

He smiles. "I had a really good weekend. Celebrated Valentine's a little early. You and Shep doing anything special?"

She curls her legs under on the couch and shifts so she's facing him. "I think I know it," she said, "But I'll bring the paper along anyway. Who knows how nervous I'll be. It'll probably all go right out of my head."

"Wow, that's right, Valentine's Day is Tuesday." She's quiet for a minute. "I don't know if we're doing anything in particular. I have some stuff for him, well, sort of for him, and maybe I'll talk him into going to the dance on Friday. We'll see."

He gives her a quick kiss on her forehead. "You're wiped, babe. You should get some sleep."

He starts packing the decorations and leaves them atop the jugs, which he's labeled "Sociology Homework, do not touch."

"Am I rambling? I get rambly when I'm tired. Or nervous. Not that I'm nervous now." She smiled tiredly at him. "Yeah, I should go to bed. Not having the most restful nights this week."

She leans over and kisses him on the cheek. "I'll see you later. Sleep well."

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Fourth Floor common room

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