Title: Harmless Flirtation

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: None, really...

Characters: Jaina Solo, Wes Janson

Rating: PG-13 for hilarity

Summary: Janson isn't used to having his bluff called these days.

Author's Note: Set about 28 ABY

Based on this exchange from Rebel Stand:

Janson: Sithspawn, I was flirting with a nine-year-old.
Tycho: Nineteen. And she has more kills than the three of us put together at the same age.

My roommate keeps bugging me to write this story down, and so I did. *shrug *

Wes Janson strode across the hangar bay. He wasn't looking for anything in particular, but he had about fifteen minutes to kill before his meeting, and the hangar bay was always good for time killing.

There was only a handful of people assembled in the hangar, and none of them seemed to be any good by way of the distraction for which he was so hoping. He turned, preparing to leave the bay altogether, when something promising caught his attention.

In the area of the hangar usually reserved for the person flying under the callsign of Twin Suns Leader was an X-wing. That, in itself, wasn't unusual, but its pilot appeared to be there as well.

Jaina Solo was bent over a toolbox, picking out the correct hydrospanner for doing whatever light maintenance in which she was currently involved.

Janson was not fool enough to ignore the view. That was the nice thing about standard issue jumpsuits. They fit, and they fit close.

He hadn't really had much face-to-face interaction with the girl, but he knew that she was a terrific pilot. He also knew that she had a fairly sharp wit, and he'd had fun messing with her over the comm unit.

He wondered if she would be as easy to get a rise out of as her mother used to be. Teasing the kid could be a fun way to kill the rest of his down time.

He pursed his lips, letting a wolf-whistle sound across the hangar and Jaina straightened immediately, turning to regard Janson. Even though her face was slightly flushed, she managed her usual nonchalant lop-sided smirk.

"Can I help you, Captain Janson?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

"I have no doubt you could." He responded, crossing the room to stand in front of her. Jaina leaned against a landing strut and raised an eyebrow.

"Uh-huh. I thought I was nine."

"Ah." Wedge rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "Tycho told you about that?"

"So it would seem. Although, to be fair, I had thought that maybe he was kidding until you verified it just now."

"So I've no one to blame but myself?" Wes grinned.

"As per usual." Jaina snorted. "So?"

"So what, Lt. Colonel?"

"What happened to me being nine?"

"Well, to be fair, I hadn't seen you in ages."

"I see. And now?"

"Clearly nineteen is a lot different than nine."

"So is fifty." Jaina snorted. Wes laughed, in spite of himself. He hadn't had someone match him quip for quip in a while. At least, not since he'd run into Shalla three months ago.

"That would hurt if you weren't horribly wrong." Wes waggled his eyebrows in a comical, yet flirtatious way. "I'll have you know that I've gotten no complaints from anyone recently."

"Perhaps the people that you're dealing with are just too nice to say anything."

This is where the fun kicked in. Wes loved a good game of 'who folds first?'. Especially a round of the game that he knew he could win. This girl might be witty, but she was young. She'd run out of bravado in a few mere seconds.

"Ouch." Janson held a hand over his chest, giving a mock gesture of pain. "Perhaps I should work on finding more honest evaluators."

"Given the reviews of you that are already circulating around, Captain, I'd say that you might have a hard time with that." She raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?" Wes leaned forward, bracing a hand on the landing strut above Jaina's diminutive form. He leaned forward and she flushed again. "You don't know anyone who might be willing to help me with that?"

Jaina grinned suddenly, and Wes felt a knot form in his stomach. When she smiled like that, it became painfully obvious that Jaina was not her mother's daughter so much as her father's. This could get tricky.

"All right, Janson. Let's go." She shrugged, as though agreeing to have a cup of caf with him. Janson gawked, at a loss for words suddenly. He had to remind himself that this was not Shalla Nelprin or Koyi Komad he was dealing with. This was the daughter of a man with a very large DL-44 Heavy Blaster. And,

"I- uh- What?"

"You've been making these suggestions for over a month now. I don't do well with dancing around." She shrugged again, and then reached up, tugging the zipper of her flight suit down to almost her waist. Wes tried not to stare at the skin the maneuver proffered. He failed. "So, go ahead, flyboy. Rock my world."

"I- Uhh- here?"

"Why not?" She looked around.

Janson's chrono beeped. Stang! The meeting!

"I. I have a meeting. Umm... General Mathes and... I have to go."

"Oh." Jaina pouted slightly. "Well, that's too bad." She pulled the zipper of her flightsuit back up, turning to continue the maintenance on her ship. "See you later, Janson."

"Yeah. Uhh- I guess I'll see you, Solo." He turned to walk away, then he turned back. "Unless you wanted to finish this another time."

"Nah." Jaina shook her head. "I don't think so."

She walked around the back of her ship, leaving Janson to stare after her.

After a few minutes, he turned, shaking his head, and tripped his way to the hangar door. He turned around once more and looked back at the direction he'd come, shaking his head. That child was going to be the death of some poor guy and, for once, he was supremely glad that it wasn't him.

He was getting too old for this stuff.