She's trying to turn her head away, but he leans in and kisses her too quickly and she smiles faintly, blowing her nose with the tissues held in one hand. "Enough that you're willing to risk being infected by the mutant virus, apparently."

A pause and her smile falls away and she answers more seriously, "I know. I just -- I forget that you aren't used to life constantly being chaos. To people dying."

Crying and a blaster shot from the next room. Living on the run, forever afraid that her identity would be discovered; later living with the shadow of the Empire looming over the battered capital ships and the X-wings.

The temple blossoming into a brilliant fireball on Malrev IV, twin explosions over Brentaal, a lifeless body covered with a sheet on Ciutric-- a mangled conference room with blood still spattered across the walls.

Plourr is pretty damn used to it, herself.

She kisses his cold neck, in lieu of his cheek.