Originally posted on Tumblr for Scoundress Saturdays; inspired by Erasure's "I Love to Hate You" and a dialogue prompt: "I don't wanna be her stupid boyfriend. But I don't want anyone else to, either."
The Lovers You Sent for Me
You could often gauge Han's mood from what music was playing as he worked on the Falcon. If it was Shryiiwook "death-metal," as the Rogues jokingly referred to it, it meant Han and Chewie were making up from a fight and Chewie had picked the music. If it was a Shryiiwook ballad (the other main genre from Kashyyk), it meant that Han was feeling nostalgic, though he would vehemently deny that and claim that Chewie was missing his family. Disco meant Han was feeling playful, Corellian drinking songs meant he was about to abandon the repairs to get drunk, jizz meant he had already abandoned the repairs and was entertaining a date. (Although, come to think of it, it had been at least two years since Luke had passed the Falcon to hear jizz music playing.) But normally it was something by one of several singers with a gritty voice and a guitar, singing about women or going out on a Sabday night, and Han would be singing along.
As Luke approached this time, he noticed that although the repairs he'd offered to help with were clearly in progress, the music player was dead silent. Instead, he heard what sounded like several instances of metal crashing on metal, punctuated with a series of curses in Corellian.
Either the music player was broken, or Han was furious. Or both.
Luke approached with caution, following the smashing and cursing sounds to the maintenance bay. "Hey," he greeted.
Han's grease-stained face popped up from the bay. "What the hell you doin' here?" he demanded.
Yep. Furious.
They'd been friends long enough now that Luke knew not to take Han's "greeting" personally. He looked down at Han. "I was going to help you with repairs, remember?"
Han shook his head gently, his expression softening. "Oh, yeah. C'mon down," he said.
Luke followed him back into the bay, then helped him put the lever that had been the reason for the crashing noise back in place. After a grumbled thanks, Han led Luke out of the maintenance bay and into the circuitry bay, with instructions to rewire the power to the auxiliary shields. He still didn't seem himself.
"You all right?" Luke finally asked.
Han looked at him like he was crazy. "'Course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be?"
There was no arguing with Han when he was like this. "Okay," Luke said, returning to his work.
There was silence for a few minutes except for the sound of their welding torches. Luke finished his board and had begun to put everything back when Han spoke again.
"Why aren't you down there with the rest of 'em?"
Ah, that's what's wrong. High Command was sending Leia on a mission at which someone would have to pretend to be her fiancé—and had invited something of a parade of various men to audition for the part. Luke wasn't sure that Han had heard about it, as he'd been away on a supply run when the call had gone out.
He tried to placate Han with a self-deprecating laugh. "I've already been rejected," he said. "Almost didn't respond to my cover name on Coyerti, remember? And I never learned how to use the right fork on Tangenine."
"Huh," was all Han said, going back to welding.
"You're mad she didn't ask you," Luke said, when Han finished and began putting the levers back into place.
"I ain't mad," Han retorted. "You gonna help me with these power couplings, or what?"
"Sure."
After a bit of awkwardly silent work, Han only speaking to grumble instructions, Luke decided to bring it up again. "You know, I thought you'd be kind of relieved. You guys have been fighting a lot lately."
"'S fine," said Han dismissively.
Luke hated to keep pressing on what was obviously a sore spot, but maybe Han and Leia would both feel better if they would just admit it. "Han," he said softly, "is it possible that you'd like to be with Leia…for real?"
Han's eyes flashed angrily, and his index finger was pointed sharply in Luke's face. "Like I told the Furball, I don't wanna be her stupid boyfriend." He paused, and his voice was lower. "But I don't want anyone else to, either."
Luke had expected the first part of that sentence, but not the second. "You don't?"
"Brental's no picnic, and none of the guerfels on that list know shit about working a mission with her," he said. "You know how she is. I'd trust her with you," he said. "You're not going to freak out and get her killed when she goes off book. Commander Fancypants" —Han's nickname for Yance Pantour, a man who likely had extensive knowledge of the proper cutlery, Luke had to admit—"ain't gonna be able to handle it."
He had a good point. But funny, Luke thought, how Han's denials always end up sounding like confessions.
I should never have agreed to this, Leia thought, as she waited for the next potential fake fiancé to come in. This is a waste of time.
She'd agreed in part to get everyone from High Command to the Rogues to Luke off her back about Han. Yes, she and Han had a certain chemistry that came in handy for their covert missions. And yes, she did spend a lot of time on the Falcon. And sure, Han did seem to pop in to the command center a lot when she was working late. Many times he had been her first choice for a difficult mission. But it's not what you think, she wanted to scream when High Command pulled her aside to advise her about her "station," when she heard the knowing chuckles of the Rogues as they laid their bets. Even Luke had started giving her these patient looks and saying things like, "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"
So when Jan had come to her with a plan for a covert mission requiring "an enlisted officer" to play the part of her fiancé, she'd said yes. "Enlisted" automatically put Han out of the running, and she couldn't always count on Han being around anyway, right? It would be good for her to learn to work with some other people. How bad could it be?
Very, very bad, evidently.
Luke was eliminated almost immediately thanks to that unfortunate episode on Tangenine. It would've been nice working with Wedge—they were friends, at least, and he actually still flirted with her a bit from time to time—but the Rogues were actually scheduled for a different mission, and Hobbie was in the medbay again, so Wedge couldn't be spared. Tycho was out for the same reason.
So she was left with a parade of whom she suspected to be High Command's ideas for proper actual suitors for her, all of whom left her cold. They were good men, certainly, would be lovely companions at a diplomatic dinner, and certainly seemed eager to play the part. But she hated how so many of them tripped over themselves with deference and "Your Highness" in one breath and talked over her with the next. And she wasn't sure how well any of them would handle her tendency to… improvise.
Han knew what fork to use on Tangenine, she thought, right after she'd narrowly avoided calling poor Yance "Commander Fancypants" to his face.
It was late when Leia showed up to the Falcon, but she knew from Luke's comm that Han would still be up. After the fight they'd had this morning and how short Han had apparently been with Luke this afternoon, Leia hoped the bottle of Whyren's she'd brought would be enough to broker a truce.
He looked surprised to see her, and even more so when she plunked the bottle on the table. But not angry, so that was a start. "Hey," she greeted.
"Hey." He looked at her a little warily. "What's this?"
"An incentive. I came to ask for a favor."
Han grinned. "Ah, a bribe." He gestured for her to sit down, then produced two glasses and poured them each a finger of whiskey.
She smiled as she took her glass. "You know, if it's a bribe you don't have to share it with me."
"Don't like drinkin' alone."
"Well, thank you, then."
They tipped their glasses to each other, then each took a drink.
Han sat back a bit. "So, you pick a fiancé for Brental IV?"
"I did." Leia sipped her drink quietly.
"Quite the group to choose from," he observed.
"Yes," she agreed. "But I was hoping you'd do it."
Han stared at her.
"High Command wasn't very happy with me—"
He seemed to recover from his initial surprise, and laughed. "Bet not."
"—but I decided you were the best choice. For the good of the mission, of course."
"Of course." He sat quietly for a moment, studying the bottom of his glass. "All right, I'll do it."
Well, that was easier than I thought. Leia couldn't help a sigh of relief.
"But I'm not in it for the good of the mission, y'know."
Of course. She smiled. "I know. You're in it for the money."
Han just looked at her for a moment, then silently shook his head. A shiver went up her spine.
And the lovers that you sent for me
Didn't come with any satisfaction guarantee
So I'll return them to the sender, and the note attached will read
How I love to hate you…
-–"Love to Hate You," Erasure