Inspired by Tom Petty's Blue Sunday, originally posted on tumblr for ScoundressSaturdays.
"And these," she said, leaning around him to place two bottles on the counter.
"Do I know you?" Han asked, brows raised in confusion, sure he would've remembered-
"No."
"Need a ride?" She asked as they stepped out the door. "Could use the company."
Why not, he told himself. Nothing better to do.
They drove, wind whipping their hair back, allowing the setting sun to catch on the lenses of her sunglasses.
"You running away, Your Worship?"
She didn't answer for a long time, focused on the straight length of road ahead of them. Finally she offered, "I was in the way," and no more. Instead she turned up the radio.
As the night settled in Han moved to the back seat, tucking his jacket under his head as a pillow. He never quite settled into a deep sleep, instead drifting in and out as the night wore on. Never once did she pull over, instead he listened as she occasionally broke into song with the music on the radio before falling silent again after a few words.
I could get used to that voice, he thought before drifting off again. I could get used to hearing her sing.
The sun is just coming over the horizon when he wakes briefly to hear her turn down the radio-
"-blue convertible with plates 4FJH13-"
Something in the back of his mind whispers that they're talking about the car he is currently riding in, the car he's sleeping in right now but he's already drifting back to-
It's later, nearing eight am when he finally fully wakes up and maneuvers back into the front seat when she slows down. He casually mentions that he knows someone is looking for them as he lights a cigarette and he catches her sigh out of the corner of his eye.
"Knew you were runnin', Your Worship," he supplies, holding out the pack to her.
She waves him away, jaw tense. "I told you, I was in the way."
"So you decided to pick up some random guy at a gas station and drive through the night?"
"I knew you were safe," she said, quiet enough he had to strain to hear. "I knew my father would never choose someone like you to come after me."
He said nothing, didn't know how to respond, so instead he offered her another cigarette. He wasn't surprised when she refused again.
The sun was beginning to set when she pulled into the gas station. Their skin was glowing from hours in the sun and he teased her that he could already see the sun bleach in her hair.
As the day had worn on he knew their adventure was coming to an end, that she would continue down the road but that he could only follow so far, that eventually he would find himself watching her taillights fade into the distance. They had covered hundreds of miles since she picked him up, hours since either had stretched their legs, longer since since she'd had any she would have to stop for more than a few moments.
When they stopped at the gas station he knew, this was it.
"I had fun," she said. "Thanks for running away with me."
"Some of the way, Your Worship."
She laughed, looking away. "You're certainly something, Han Solo."
"Sure I can't run the rest of the way with you?"
She hesitates, head tilted to the side, biting her lip and he thinks for a moment-
"No. You can't." She sounds final. Sure.
He understands. "One for the road then?" He holds out the crumpled pack of cigarettes one final time and-
-she accepts, pulling one from the pack and accepting the offered lighter.
"Keep it," he says when she tries to hand it back. "You could use it's luck."
They were unlikely acquaintances and fast friends but all good things must come to an end.
The last time he see her she's leaning against the driver side door, smoking the cigarette he'd offered her, the late afternoon sun casting a sort of halo around her head.
He doesn't look back, doesn't acknowledge how it feels like he's walking away from something so important-
He never sees her again.
It's not until later, recounting his lost weekend to Chewie and Lando he realizes he never even got her name.